
So much fucking power. And, you know: God bless Mrs. Donna Jean, but we all know who has the unicorniest mane in Tennessee.
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

So much fucking power. And, you know: God bless Mrs. Donna Jean, but we all know who has the unicorniest mane in Tennessee.

Bobby didn’t feel like going back out for the bow, so he sent Red Metal Stool to do it on his behalf, much like Marlon Brando sending that fake Indian lady to get his Oscar.

In this episode of Grateful Deads Taking Pictures With Amps For Free Shit, we feature Jeff Chimenti. He is doing his classic pose “I would like a free amp: ta-da.”
OR, this photo could be interpreted differently. Observe the mild confusion on Jeff Chimenti’s face. Perhaps it went like this:
FAT JIMMY
Hey, Jeff Chimenti. Lemme take your picture.
JEFF CHIMENTI
Why do you want–
CLICK
And now Fat Jimmy’s all “Jeff Chimenti loves my amps,” and whatnot. If that’s true, then shame on you, Fat Jimmy. If Jeff Chimenti is getting himself some gear, than huzzah for Jeff Chimenti. Amps are expensive as hell.

As usual, Annabelle’s eye was just about the best in the room, plus she keeps in mind one of the rules of photo composition: if at all possible, let Jeff Chimenti show his power.


Did you see it?
Not Billy’s vest; we’ll ignore Billy’s vest; perhaps it’s his Birthday Vest.
And obviously not Josh Meyers’ guitar face, which is the most advanced case of Les Palsy I’ve ever seen.
Look carefully.
Jeff Chimenti has switched to his summer shorts.
Dead & Company are on the Kimmel show tonight, if you’re interested. Not only are they promoting their upcoming tour, but also the movie project they are working on, in which the band splits into two teams and punches one another. (Josh Meyers has been wearing his Iron Man outfit for weeks and won’t take it off, no matter how many fridge magnets Billy sticks to his back.)
Is this a Periscope of the dress rehearsal? I dunno, maybe.
Is this a photo from the other day of the band rehearsing?

It is. We can learn two things: Mickey has negotiated the return of his bass drum; and the services of Red Metal Stool are apparently no longer required, which is good news.
Also: who wrangles the kleenex? Does the guitar tech do that, or is there a special roadie just for tissues? Is there a head cold going around the Dead & Company communal living space? (Oteil and Jeff Chimenti have to share a room.)
[embedyt] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=afHQQhig9BY[/embedyt]
That’s the Hammond B3 organ, played by Jimmy Smith in honor of Al Green’s birthday. (Do not get Al Green hot grits for his birthday.) Before laptops full of sounds, and MIDI, or even analog synths, there was the instrument you are legally required to refer to as “the mighty B3” at least once while writing about it.
The Hammond organ originated because people couldn’t afford pipe organs. In defense of the pipe organs: they pretty much have to be pricey. A pipe organ is both labor and material-intensive, and then requires constant maintenance and you also need to build the building around it. This is out of reach for most churches, especially smaller American churches, but a relatively thin and quiet piano wouldn’t do, either. Pianos are for thinking; for praying, you need an organ.
So, in 1935, a guy named Laurens Hammond invented this:

Okay, not that one. That’s the B3, which was introduced in ’54, but it has all the features of the original design: two 61-note keyboards, bass pedals, drawbars for the tone, and the iconic Leslie rotating speaker. Inside the guts of the thing are tonewheels: little metal spinners next to a pickup that generated a given frequency. Speaking of spinning, the Leslie is not called a rotating speaker euphemistically: that sucker has a motor in it.
This naturally made the instrument unspeakably heavy. Combined, the organ and speaker weighed three tons, more if the crew was stashing their drugs in it, but heft wasn’t a concern for Mr. Hammond in his design; these things were not intended to be moved. The guy came to fix it, rather than you bringing it in for repairs.
The B3 is complicated, if you play it right: the tonewheels only do “on” and “off” so you control the volume with your foot, plus you’re heel-and-toeing the bass line, and also playing two keyboards simultaneously while fucking around with the drawbars. And since this is the past we’re talking about, you were smoking a cigarette while you played.
Plus, they were expensive: none of Garcia’s costly guitars could begin to reach the cost of the B3. When the Dead upgraded Pig from the piercing and cheesy Vox organ he was originally saddled with, a new one was three grand. Figure the Dead got it used for two: that’s $13,000.
(And though the Boys had a habit of picking up shady equipment, the Hammond must have been acquired from a legitimate source rather than in a “cash” deal with a “friend.” It was repossessed right off the stage in late ’70, and things you buy from drug dealers don’t get repossessed, only stuff from actual stores.)
Keith was terrified of the thing, preferring his grand piano and Fender Rhodes to the point of obstinacy, but when Brent joined the band, the road crew dug the old girl out and Brent could truly play the fuck out of that beast.

Brent didn’t have a piano; more correctly, the band wouldn’t give him a piano. This was a plan that reached its logical conclusion when, after Brent died, they hired a guy to decide what Vince’s sounds would be. (And Garcia specifically forbade him from playing with a Hammond tone.)
Also:
“Precarious, where should I put this amplifier?”
“On top of another amplifier.”
“How?”
“Set it down in the least stable way allowed by its shape.”
“Gotcha.”
Now, though, the Dead (Or What’s Left Of ‘Em) have over-compensated and have adopted a laissez-faire policy towards the question “How much room does the keyboardist get in the truck?” and this now happens in cities across America:

Enthusiasts, you will note my long-standing love for Jeff Chimenti. I don’t need 50 shades of gray, just one: Jeff Chimenti. If Jeff Chimenti and I were playing Star Wars in the schoolyard, I would let him be Han. He might be pound-for-pound the best keyboardist that’s ever been in any version of the Dead: he plays the piano as well as Keith; and the organ as well as Brent, and that’s saying something. Those two were motherfuckers. (Jeff also makes distracting calliope noises as well as TC or Vince.)
But, holy shit, is that too much keyboard. That’s the Full Wakeman. If Jeff Chimenti wants to continue having that much keyboard around him, then he should be further surrounded by ice skaters dressed as Knights of the Round Table. This is hubris, Jeff Chimenti, and you are flying too close to the stage lights.
Although, this is truly the Grateful Dead thing to do. The truth is that the sounds generated by each of those instruments can be reproduced now so faithfully that maybe 1% of the population could tell the difference, and each sound triggered by one keyboard. Grand pianos, B3’s, Fender Rhodeseseses: heavy as shit and finicky. The humidity matters, and they need professional care.
Plus, that is Brent’s B3 organ/Leslie speaker combo, and it belongs onstage. And if it’s onstage, someone might as well play it. (The Rhodes and the piano are of unknown–to me, at least–provenance and perhaps someone could fill us in. Keith’s piano at least one Stealie inlaid in it, so I don’t think that’s it.)
I retract my assertion: Jeff Chimenti is playing the proper amount of keyboards. In fact, I propose another two or three be suspended above him, and that the floor-piano from Big be installed beneath him.

Or maybe the LGBT crowd can fend for themselves and we can fight the real fight.
“WHAT DO WE WANT?”
Lillian Monster? How’d you get in here?
“I HEARD THERE WAS INJUSTICE! WHAT DO WE WANT?”
Please put the bullhorn down.
“ABSOLUTELY NOT. WHAT DO WE WANT?”
…
Fine. We want equal fonts for Je–
“AND WHEN DO WE WANT IT?”
Now?
“WE ALSO DEMAND THAT DEAD & COMPANY USE LOCALLY-SOURCED GUITAR STRINGS!”
Is that a thing?
“SECOND SET SUGAREE!”
Okay, I’m with you there.
“AND THE FONT THING!”
There you go.
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