Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: horn show

My God, It’s About The Dead

Enthusiasts, I have recommended this indelible offering from 1973 before; it’s just that marvelous. 9/26/73 from the War Memorial Auditorium in Buffalo, NY, is a delight of a show. Less of a delight: Harvey Weinstein was the concert’s promoter.

(War Memorial Auditorium is a wonderfully generic name for an arena. Did the designers call it that as a placeholder, but neglect to circle back around and punch it up? And by the time they remembered, the stone had been chiseled? Unless there’s a Revolutionary War hero from Buffalo named Instance Starchroot War and the building’s in his honor. If that’s the case, then I apologize to General War’s descendants.)

It is a horn show, Enthusiasts. If I may be permitted some wanton capitalizing–

You may not.

–it is a Horn Show, baby.

Ugh. The horn shows are failed experiments and curiosities, at best.

You lie.

AT BEST.

The Horn Shows were splendid, the Horn Shows were great; the Horn Shows befriended my weary prostate.

Ew.

There were eight Horn Shows, all during a ten-date tour in September of 1973, and they are fantastic. The Dead had invited folks up to toodle on the trumpets or twiddle their flutes before, but this was different. This was a trumpet and sax–the typical Rock and Roll configuration, give or take a trombone–and their part in the arrangements was to be counter-punchy, and blippative, and overly dramatic. Just like all the other bands’ horn sections. Just like, say Huey Lewis’ News.

Except the Grateful Dead are bush league, and therefore did not rehearse, or even write up charts in the first place. By the Buffalo show–the last of the run–trumpeter Joe Ellis and saxophonist Martin Fierro–have resigned themselves to BAPBAP stabs during choruses, and they’d solo during Eyes, and nothing worked at all ever not for one note; the musicians all seem angry with one another. It is glorious. I’m sure there’s at least several “jam bands with horn section” acts touring the festivals this summer. I am not saying that the feat cannot be performed. I am saying that the Grateful Dead and the Keep On Truckin’ Horns could not accomplish the feat of mixing the Dead’s music with the traditional Rock and Roll horn section.

But they tried. Not their hardest, as that would imply rehearsal, but they tried a little bit.

Want to read more about the Horn Shows? Visit your local library, and eat the librarian. Eat all of the librarians. Surrender quietly. Society will place you in a facility. It may be prison. It will more likely be the booby hatch. Behave while incarcerated. Earn privileges, such as internet access. When you are permitted to once again visit the information superhighway, then click here to read Lost Live Dead’s far, far better telling of the Tale of the Horn Shows than mine. You’re welcome, and remember: Reading Is Fundamentalist!

Little Big Horns

Listening to 9/26/73 at the War Memorial in Buffalo, NY at Fillmore South tonight and luxuriating in the mostly-on-key stylings of one of my beloved, polarizing, belovedly polarizing horn shows.

The horns in the horn show don’t show up until Eyes, after the Boys have already ripped through a HoF China>Rider and a shit-hot second set with Bobby taking the wheel from Playing through Truckin’.

but from there, it’s pure horny goodness. Lemme get my valve oil, baby. Spit valve? Swallow valve.

Eww.

Yeah. You ever see most horn players? They take the keyboardist’s leftovers.

Horn Of Plenty

So, that’s what Eyes of the World has been missing: noodly jazz horns. I’ve always felt that the song most prone to endless jamming would be improved by adding two more guys playing.

Apparently, the Dead took a horn section out with them in Fall of ’73 for ten shows or so. They did this because the Wall of Sound wasn’t finished yet, so the drugs said they had to spend money on something else absurd. Except it wasn’t absurd: the horns were great. Listen to the Weather Report Suite from the same show: after the lyrics end, they all–all SEVEN of them–split instantly in different musical directions, like kids scattering after the baseball breaks a window, but it holds together, still (Thanks, Billy!) and turns into the jazz that the Dead used to lie to themselves about being able to play. Hell, forget about what the actual horn players are doing, and just listen to the rest of the guys, who seem to be more excited than a dog in one of those Soldier Returns Home videos.

So there you go: September 15th, 1973. That’s your Rick’s Pick volume 1: a weird show of a forgotten tour featuring an experiment that all involved say didn’t work out. How am I not employed by this band?

PS: If you want actual information and, you know, facts about these shows, check out this article from the AWESOME website Lost Live Dead.

PPS: This show also contains one of only a handful of performances of Let Me Sing Your Blues Away. After you hear it, you will be wondering, “Why a handful? How could they ever do this again?” LMSYBA (never thought you’d see that acronym, did you?) should have been treated like an accidentally-killed hobo: you bury him, you have a longish talk with yourself about going back to work for your father, and you never go back to Dallas again. You don’t do it the next weekend at the College of William & Mary.

PPPS: Actually, check out the Truckin’ from 9/17 from Onondaga in upstate NY. They’ve had some time to work on the new horn arrangement and they’re just blasting ass, just blasting ass all over the assy plains, man. It’s not a totally new song, though: Bobby still fucks up at least half of the lines.