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

Tag: bill kreutzmann (Page 35 of 88)

2000 Light-Years From Sober

billy stones

Hey, Billy.

“Ass! Looky where Billy is!”

Stones show?

“Yeah. Never saw ’em before.”

You shared a bill at Altamont.

“Alta-what?”

We’re playing this game?

“Listen: common wisdom is that Altamont was 100% the Stones’ and the Angels’ fault.”

The Dead could’ve stopped it.

“Who are we: the fun police?”

Altamont was fun?

“Was for me. Helicopter rides.”

Great. You a Stones fan, Bill?

“I’m a heterosexual white American baby boomer?”

Yes.

“Then you know the answer to that. The Stones were the last band that everybody loved. Zeppelin was for the meat heads, we were for the drugfaces, The Eagles were for people with shitty taste in music, you know what I mean. Things got fractious.”

Yeah.  Bill?

“Sure?”

How come they’re still touring and you guys could barely keep it together for a fortnight?

“Well, both of their Garcias are still alive.”

Good point.

“Plus, Phil isn’t in that band.”

He might say the same about you.

“No ‘might’ about it.”

Truck, In

billy willy truckHey, Billy.

“Ass. Yo.”

Whatcha up to?

“Brainstorming over here. How about I slam Benjy’s hands in a convection oven?”

Why?

“Yeah, I guess. How about I put some C4 in one of those steamers you rent at the supermarket?”

Huh?

“What if Mickey and me shove broomsticks up our ass and reverse-joust with each other for a half-hour?”

Fishman’s vacuum thing?

“I don’t get it, but the kids seem to love it.”

They’re on drugs.

“So are our fans.”

True.

“Does he put his dick in it?”

Not onstage.

“But he’s fucked that vacuum, right?”

Oh, yeah. No doubt in my mind.

“I’ve fucked worse.”

Such as?

“Okay, I never fucked any appliances. You got me there.”

I think you should just be yourself, Billy.

“You’re probably right. Worked out this far, huh?”

Sure has.

“I’m still gonna slam Benjy’s hands in a convection oven.”

He deserves it, I’m sure.

“You have no idea.”

Peachy, Keen

billy pretty girl
Look at you. Sly ol’ dog.

“Gonna woof at her. Doggy needs to bone.”

You made it so creepy so quickly.

“She smells like overpriced textbooks and institutional mac-and-cheese.”

Billy, c’mon.

“College filly. Put a saddle on her and prance her through town. SHE MY PRIZE!”

Shrooms just come on?

“Little bit, yeah.”

“Gonna let Benjy watch.”

COME ON, MAN.

The Position Has Been Filled

As the Dead & Company tour is planned for the late Fall, Woody Hayes will already be in hibernation, plump from craft-services barbecue and tuggers from divorcees; he also will have plugged up his backdoor with leaves, dirt, and free t-shirts. It is dangerous to approach his dwelling during these months, but when Festival Season arrives anew, Woody Hayes will be there, sitting in on a Merle Haggard song and making a serious dent in the shrimp tray.

Sammy Hagar came down to TRI Studios one time when Billy and Mickey were there. Jeff Chimenti was there, too, as this pre-dated his life of crime. It didn’t sound anything like the Dead, obviously, but there was a goofy energy about it and they sounded like fun at 100 decibels; they played for hours. When they were putting their guitars away, Bobby asked Sammy Hagar to he wanted to tour with himself and the drummers  and Sammy Hagar started laughing so hard that he pissed his jumpsuit.

David Gilmour responded to the Dead’s outreach with a handwritten note on handmade paper. It informed them that the offer was a huge honour (they do that) but he would have to regrettably decline, as he was already playing most of the venues a bit later in the year. If you didn’t know how to read British, you would assume he was being polite, but he was doing that English bullshit where he speaks in code because he’s fancy and all the other fancy people laugh at you.

An entreaty was also made to Queen’s Brian May, but the call did not go well because Brian May started talking about badgers. Brian May is fucking obsessed with badgers, which as far as I can make out, are some sort of fat European tunnel squirrel. They fuck up gardens; they’re pests; Brian May has chosen them as his totem. After around ten minutes of “They also enjoy eating rutabaga,” Billy lost his patience and called him a limey and that was the end of that.

Stevie Ray Vaughn did not return calls.

Sidekicking And Screaming

IMG_1988“That’s a good question, Sunburned Guy. Dead & Company was my idea. I remember watching the band in Chicago and thinking, ‘What if we kept doing this, but worse?’ And then I put together a business plan and here we are.”

“What was the business plan? Well, I wrote down ‘Mo’ Shows = Mo’ Money’ on a napkin and then I lost it. Anyway, the Dead aren’t really detail guys, so I gave ’em a little of the Razzle-Benjy.”

“How did the Razzle-Benjy go? Other than Phil blocking my phone number and Trey threatening to ban me from MagnaBall if I bothered him again? Okay, I guess. I sensed Mickey wasn’t listening.”

“Mostly the sound of a thumb-piano being screwed with, I suppose.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny any upcoming tour dates, mostly because I am not included on those phone calls or told about those meetings any longer.”

“Of course, I’ll be on the tour if it happens. I’m Billy’s personal manager. Right, Billy?”

“Your head looks like a Jiffy Pop and I’m going to murder you.

“See?”

Q And A With B And B

billy and benjy at peach“HOTCHIE MOTCHIE! Where am I? What the fuck?”

“Billy?

“Benjy? I killed you. Where am I?”

“The Peach Festival.”

“Georgia?”

“Scranton, Pennsylvania.”

“That makes no sense.”

“No, but the check cleared.”

“Oh, thank God.”

“Did you maybe blackout a little bit?”

“Maybe a little bit, yeah.”

“We’ve been doing a Q-and-A for forty minutes. You know that, right?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Chicago.”

“Dammit.”

“Anything happened in between then and now?”

“Three or four of these sunshine, drug, and outdoor-pooping jamborees.”

“Did Woody Hayes sit in?”

“Obviously.”

“What else?”

“Joined a new band.”

“I did?”

“Kinda.”

“We sell out?”

“Two nights at the Garden.”

“I’m awesome.”

“You wanna know who’s in the band?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t seem to.”

“There a blonde behind me?”

“How’d you know that?”

“Because I’m a Grateful motherfucking Dead, that’s why.”

“Okay.”

“Shit like that is why you get murdered so much.”

“Scranton?”

“Just outside.”

“Jesus. The only reason more people living here don’t kill themselves is lack of ambition.”

“Scrapple.”

“Yeah, okay.”

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