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

Tag: 11/22/72

If You Get Confused

After Crazy Fingers, which Garcia sang correctly precisely three times, the most-pooched tune in the Big Man’s repertoire was Franklin’s; no other song can compete, and it is only the hilariously predictable mumblings and fumblings of CF that keep it from that number one slot. The magic of Franklin’s is that Garcia would lose his grip on both lines and verses. It was an As Above, So Below situation, lyrically speaking.

Maybe the part about the four winds comes first, and maybe the Let the music play line does. Which verse comes when? Who knows? Certainly not Garcia. He would sing ’em as they came to him, and not argue about petty bullshit. The man was too busy trying desperately to get through a couplet without stumbling and bumbling.

Sometimes–and the 80’s versions of the ditty feature this more than those of the ’70’s–Garcia’ll whack his head on the first word of a verse and never recover. I find that fun.

ANYWAY, 11/22/72 from the Austin Municipal Auditorium is from 1972, and therefore has no Franklin’s, but you should listen regardless. Brokedown and a Casey Jones, braj. Motherfuckers wanna play like they’re too good for Casey Jones, like they’re above Casey Jones, but fuck those motherfuckers.

Nudielicious

Here’s another shot of Garcia’s Nudie Suit from behind; the outfit maintains the usual Dead motifs: skulls and roses and bullshit. Nothing says Grateful Dead like skulls and roses and bullshit.

Fuck it, might as well empty out the Nudie Suit library in one easy-to-find place. Here’s Bobby:

Is that a chicken? I think that’s a chicken. Here’s another of Bobby:

The son of a bitch just didn’t have a bad angle.

Say “Cheese.”

“Cheese!”

You look spiffy.

“Flash, baby.”

Awesome. This is Phil:

But you already knew that. (Check out the cowboy boots.)

This is a better shot of the weirdo Strat from late ’72:

This is 12/12, and he also played Numbers (I just named the guitar) on 11/22/72 at the Municipal Auditorium in Austin. We know this from this picture…

and this article.

I gotta be honest with you, Enthusiasts: this research horseshit is not for me. I’m exhausted. The president’s right: facts are for suckers.

And we finish up with a shot featuring both the Nudie Suit and the weird guitar. I brought all the threads together.

And you without a Pulitzer.

I know, right?