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

Tag: phil lesh (Page 40 of 105)

Dancing In The Streets

img_3304There is a convention for intellectuals and big-brains of all sorts in Albuquerque this week regarding the Dead. I was neither invited not notified, but I do have a good question for one of them researcher types to figure out: when was Phil allowed out from behind the drums? He was still hiding back there in some of the shots from Europe in ’72. By the Wall, it was physically impossible to stand back there anymore, and that continued with the more-traditional band setup that followed the de-hiatusing.

That’s what the Dead did in ’76: de-hiatused. Like you deplane.

Once More, With Feeling

img_3427TotD is happy to report–from multiple, unrelated sources–that Phil looks great and happy tonight; he is bouncing around and smiling, and this is a very good thing.

img_3426This is Robbie Taylor, who has been Phil’s Parish for four decades. His eyebrows will fight you; they will defeat you; do not challenge them.

(I know nothing about Robbie Taylor besides the broad strokes: came aboard in ’76 and stayed there ever since. I don’t know his childhood, or his family; his triumphs and regrets. He is a man in full totally alien to me. But I do know he could kick your ass.)

img_3428And this is Photographer-to-the-Dead Jay Bakesburg, mistaking guitars for teenaged hippie chicks. (Jay likes Hippie Chicks.)

The band is making its way through 5/13/83 from the Greek, with the first-ever Hell in a Bucket. Other than that, not many surprises in the setlist, but you can check out tonight’s version here.

In And Out Of Phil’s Restaurant He Goes

img_3425
Phil (and his Phriends) are celebrating 1983 tonight over at Terrapin Crossroads, and I am an idiot, as I just looked up when the last St. Stephen was instead of simply reading the shirt.

Also: muscle-T.

Also also: if you’re interested in what it all sounds like (man) then an innertubes hero named Busterdog has what you’re looking for.

Grateful Dead: Generations

Some things are funny; others make you smile. This is the latter.

Our man Phil showed up at his hash house for Super Bowl Sunday brunch and harmonized with his son with his grandkid in his arms. If the smile he and Grahame share around 2:15 doesn’t brighten your day, then I can’t help you, man.

All happiness is bittersweet, though, isn’t it? Baby Levon might by now more rightly be called Toddler Levon. Although, to his credit, he has maintained his position on fucks, i.e., he has none to give.

“Okay, I go with Grandma now.

“We’re in the middle of Ripple, Baby Levon.”

“Right. Okay. Grandma now.”

“It’s a short song, buddy.”

“A short song? Grampa, you weren’t in The Ramones: your idea of a “short song” is anything under 30 minutes.”

“What?”

“Goo goo ga ga.”

“I thought so.”

“But, still: Grandma now.”

“Okay.”

Look Up Here

img_3280Haven’t had a good group shot in a while. We’ll go left to right for as long as we can, but there’s so much bullshit here. So much bullshit.

  • Seriously: so much bullshit.
  • Billy looks…
  • Jesus, I can’t deal with this; there’s so much wrong.
  • Okay, let’s do this: Billy looks like a friendly Italian baker who likes to fuck the cannoli before he sells it.
  • “I-a bake-a wit’ love-a!”
  • Billy’s eyebrows also look like his mustache’s children.
  • Phil had to leave the photo shoot early to meet his Newsie LARPing group at the park.
  • The Grateful Dead were not a hat band, and Phil is not a hat person, and that is an ugly hat.
  • It’s as if you went to see a badly written play starring terrible actors at a condemned theater: there is a failure at every level.
  • I hope the other guys gave him shit.
  • We’ll circle back to the two band members who are not looking at the camera.
  • As always, Bearded Mickey is terrifying.
  • There have been many frightful versions of Mickey: Russian Hat Mickey, Shirtless Mickey, Pantless Mickey, but Bearded Mickey is the scariest.
  • Now we take you to the Musician Magazine offices, where they are selecting which photo of the Grateful Dead will be used as the cover photo:
  • “I have a bunch of shots of–“
  • “Which one does Garcia look coolest in?”
  • “Um, this one, but the rest of the band–“
  • “Print it!”
  • “–looks like goobers. Two of them aren’t even facing the camera. You walked out of the office.”
  • And so on.
  • Garcia looks like a hippie lion.
  • He is fierce.
  • Garcia has brought all of his sexy to this photo shoot.
  • I mean, he very well may be passed out behind the sunglasses, but still: lion.
  • Sleepy, sleepy lion.
  • I know I promised to get back to Bobby and Brent, but they’re going to have to take care of themselves. 
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