Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
You can be someone’s rock, but no one’s made of stone; even if you were, it’s a losing proposition. Rock beats scissors, but wind and water rub rock down to sand and silt. Time beats rock. Time beats everything.
Smoke your cigarettes and skip the barber. Drink your coffee and play the guitar. What else is there to do while time takes you by the hand?
We may argue (good-naturedly, of course) about the BEST EVAR Dark Star. 10/31/70? The nearly hour-long journey to the center of Rotterdam from the Europe ’72 tour? The out-of-nowhere brilliance of 1/10/79? Cleveland ’72? Cleveland ’73?
If we’re honest: the best Dark Star is the one you’re listening to at the moment.
Unless you’re listening to this one: 12/31/81 from the Oakland Auditorium. Now, I’ve not listened to most of the 90’s Dark Stars because my time on this planet is finite, but none of them can possibly be as half-assed as this version. It is the dictionary definition of “ehh, fuck it.”
The rest of the show is worth a listen (and so is the DS: a bad Dark Star is still fucking Dark Star, maaaaaan), all three sets of it.
WARNING: Joan Baez.
BONUS: the recording I’ve linked to is courtesy of FoTotD David Gans, whose wonderful oral history of the band This is All a Dream We Dreamed can be purchased right over there on the sidebar.
“Billy?”
“Yeah, Mick?”
“Whatcha thinking about?”
“Drumming.”
“Me, too.”
…
“Mick?”
“Yeah, Billy?”
“I was really thinking about pussy.”
“Me, too.”
…
“Billy?”
“Yeah, Mick?”
“When I said I wasn’t thinking about drumming, and that I was thinking about pussy? I was lying. I was totally thinking about drumming. I just said that to sound cool.”
“I know, man.”
Commentator and probably not the dead poet jim carroll informs us that the previous pic–and this nifty one he sent along as well–were taken in Switzerland, which would explain the presence of the Citroen 2CV, which was the Gallic version of the Model T and the Jeep at the same time.
Like the Beetle, it had a small air-cooled engine and could be configured into a bunch of different platforms: this one is the “hippie-lugging” package, I guess.
Also, our younger Enthusiasts should note the spare tire on the roof rack and realize that there was room in the truck for the spare, it’s just that the driver knew without a shadow of a doubt he was going to need it soon enough. Tires used to be made out of semi-chewed Bazooka gum and luck.
Well, what else could the title be?
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uwZIUSfGo40&w=420&h=315]
Two of my favorite dead guys. I used to watch Tom Snyder religiously, especially when Robert Blake came on. He was on that show frequently, if I recall, crazy as a shithouse rat each time. Tom would also have the TV writer David Milch on a lot. Milch had some sort of neck thing where his head would just loll to the side and then Snyder’s eyebrows would start to do some outlandish bullshit; it was some great TV.
Watch the pictures of the Boys as they fly through the air. They’re their usual charming selves. (Seriously, they–mostly Garcia–bitched about being on TV, but were suspiciously good at it.)
And then go listen to Dick’s Picks 13, with the He’s Gone for Bobby Sands, because that’s what they’re referring to when they say last night was “good”.
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