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

Tag: terrapin crossroads (Page 10 of 11)

Phil Lesh Sits With Excellent Posture And Answers Questions

phil jay blakesburg

How many times did the water bottle get knocked over before someone figured that trick out?

Additionally of note: Phil’s 76th birthday is coming up and he doesn’t look a day over 75.  He has a proud posture and a new Apple watch. There could not be a more obvious “yes” answer to a question than, “Has Phil called his Tesla to him with his Apple Watch?” Maybe “Did Phil make Jill come and watch him do it, like, three times?”

Also, on Phil’s right arm is his new Apple sweatband. It has Bluetooth.

What Jay Blakesburg is pointing at may be guessed in the all-new, chromed-out, luxury-package Comment Section.

Wait.

Is that Tiger? And, wait, what? There are two? (Partially obscured behind Jay: white pickups.) Did Phil borrow them for the night? I don’t think you’re allowed to borrow any of Garcia’s guitars anymore. (I mean: you weren’t allowed to borrow them when he was alive, but I’m pretty sure no one ever asked.) Garcia’s guitars–even the minor ones–now go out On Loan.

Or are those Fake Jerry guitars? Does Phil make his band play Fake Jerry guitars, like how you had to dye your hair when you joined KISS? (Because I don’t get that. No judgement, but having yourself a Fake Jerry axe crafted by Alembic–has to be Alembic or it doesn’t count–just confuses me. Do you go all the way and strap on a fake beard and shove a pillow under your shirt? But, hey: different strokes for different Enthusiasts. If you’ve got a couple grand to spend on a guiHOLY SHIT, THEY’RE ELEVEN THOUSAND DOLLARS.)

I demand answers.

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

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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.

You Got Yourself A Stu

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After one of the Chicago shows (either the first, second, or third; I’m sure about that), Chris, Martin, and I went to an after-party that Stu Allen was playing at. It was in a warehouse that had been turned into some sort of theater in one of those Arts District tax schemes cities are always trying; they presented the kinds of plays that featured people being impaled on stuff, and not in a Titus Andronicus-staged-by-Julie-Taymor way, more in a Bob Flanagan kind of way. (Dare you to look him up.)

Stu and his band were playing, and well, but the venue had large ice buckets full of water and there were many couches. Coca-cola was also available for a very reasonable price, and while I rarely drink soda, there are times when a cold Coca-cola is the only option. My two friends boogied and the music was at just the right volume: it filled up every patch of space in the room and you could feel it massaging your potato salad.

Stu may or may not have been wearing a hat.

Anyway, this is to say that Mr. Allen, along with some friends and a Phriend, will be celebrating his birthday over at Terrapin Crossroads starting at 8 o’clock Marin County time; if you’d like to hear what all the hubbub is, then perhaps you should click here.

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