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John A last won the day on February 18
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With all the respect in the world for Deadbase, which has been the beloved and go to reference for decades, gratefulsets is the bomb; state of the art research portal for all things Dead lists.
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That Miracle -> Shakedown transition from the original shoe never fails to astound.
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Love those '76 second sets.
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That's a interesting double Jerry / double Bobby show opening sequence, especially given that those aren't songs that go together. Research uncovers two other Mississippi -> Roses (all in the week of this show) , and no other Jack Straw / BIODTL. Interesting indeed!
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I consider '87 the year the band was improving each and every tour, a phenomena that continued into the start of '88. It set the stage for the epic 3 year run which would follow. So while I may not think it's a great year onto itself, it's a damn important one.
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I used to write the setlists on the back of the ticket stubs. Required a "tiny font" level of penmanship. đ˛ After abut 35 shows I could have told you the setlist for every one. Then suddenly the memory bank overloaded and said ability went poof!
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Take a gander at the Jerry songs in set 1. Wow, what a collection!
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Was thinking of watching Mulholland Drive tonight. Been over 20 years. Must admit I never got too heavy into Twin Peaks.
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Been digging through some old files and I dug up my write up of the TXR evening where the power went dead... Terrapin Crossroads, the project that Phil and Jill Lesh had been working on in Fairfax for some time, and that was forestalled by a vocal minority of locals, finally opened this Spring in San Rafael to a chorus of complaints about the hefty price of admission for Phil & Friends shows - $150. But hey, that comes with a poster, plus a grilled cheese sandwich on the way out the door. More recently, Phil and been leading various groups of musicians through a series of âWest Coast Ramblesâ, modeled after the famous Levon Helm âMidnight Ramblesâ held in his barn studio in Woodstock. For the Rambles shows, the costs are scaled back to $65. Then last week The Crossroads announced a âTelstarâ show this coming Sunday, more open ended jam oriented, for the bargain basement price of $30. And finally, this Tuesday and Wednesday, the fee to see Phil at the Crossroads came crashing down to zero. Now, these shows were not held in the âGrate Roomâ, but rather in the adjoining restaurant. But they were scot-free. The line up was a sub set of this weekendâs Ramblers; Phil on bass, John Kadlecik on lead, and Jon Graboff on pedal steel. Reports on the Tuesday show were quite positive, so after an open house for my 7th grader at Mill Valley Middle School, I was off to San Rafael. I arrived around 8:30 to a casual scene. The cocktail/bar section of the restaurant was full but not bursting. The performance area encompassed the landing at the bottom of a wide, twisting staircase. The back of the âstageâ opened onto the main dining area, and the front (slightly more than 180 degrees of the ring) opened to the cocktail space, the hallway from the main entrance, and the wood burning oven. I was able to settle in just behind the people who were against the ropes, in the thin corridor between the pizza bar and the stage. There were somewhere around 150 people already there, swelling to maybe double that as the 9pm show time approached. Then it happened. Complete darkness. At first it seemed like something had blown right there on site, but the jolt of having large amps and speaking several feet away instantly cut out will create such an illusion. And the only good view of the outside world from where I stood was through the back of the restaurant across the canal; all lights on there. So I was surprised when, after about 10 minutes, a security officer announced that the outage was area wide (apparently only on Terrapinâs side of the water) and that no further details were available. Frankly, I was even more surprised that they werenât moving to have the place evacuated. But no, we were just told to hang tight. In fact I had just been pondering that there likely must be some sort of public mandate about evacuating a crowded establishment where there was no power. Instead, it appeared Terrapin was able to play by its own rules. And indeed, Phil came out minutes later and said there will still be a show, it will be acoustic, and that amazingly there were no acoustic instruments on hand but they were ânearby.â It was another half hour before several guitar cases made their way through the front door and up the staircase. Itâs a good bet going forward that Terrapin will be better prepared! By this time staff had swept through with trays of lit candles, doors had been propped open for ventilation, camping style lamps were strategically placed, and a table of brightly burning cylindrical candles of varying heights had been set up in the center of the performance space (to call this a stage is a misnomer). The power wasnât coming back but music was imminent. When the musicians finally came down the stairs, slightly over an hour after we were plunged into darkness, JK, Jon, and Phil all had acoustic guitars. JK had what could have been a Takamine, looking exactly like something Jerry would have played. Jonâs guitar looked to be a steel strung model with dark grained wood. And Phil had a large bodied instrument similar to what I recall him playing at a benefit show way back in 1994 at the Berkeley Community Theater Berkeley High School benefit. Phil also carried out a MacBook Pro, which I found curious. He consulted it briefly a few times between songs. There were also small battery powered lit-lights on JK and Jonâs music stands. Now it was time to see not only what these performers were made of, so far as their ability to roll with this massive audible, but also to see what the audience was made of. This was the absolute test of an audienceâs resolve to pay respectful attention, the likes of which Iâve never experienced. Think about it: 300 plus folks, most of whom had a few drinks in them, in an inherently awkward performance space, with zero amplification. This should prove interesting. And by god it worked. Not perfectly of course. There were bottles to recycle at the bar. And there was the aisle behind us that kept getting clogged, requiring the occasional âplease, we have to keep this space clearâ from staff members. But the catcalls were almost exclusively between songs, and the few sing-along moments were well placed and mostly fitting. I think ultimately the urgency of keeping silent was so obvious to everybody that 99% of folks didnât dare even breathe heavily. That made it even more head scratching the few times someone had to be shushed; what could anyone be thinking?? So the show then was a tightrope act; a continuous give and take between the spellbinding understated power of what we were witnessing with the annoyance of the varying distractions. Most importantly though, on balance it worked. Perhaps not consistently throughout, but certainly on the whole. The set list was nuanced, varying from classic acoustic numbers like Dire Wolf, Folsom Prison Blues, Dark Hollow, and Jack-A-Roe, to complete surprises such as Casey Jones, Bertha, and Here Comes Sunshine. Jon Graboff sang the Johnny Cash classic along with Dark Hollow, but I felt his vocals were less than ideal given the scenario. Phil sang only one song, but it was a soft, gorgeous, lilting version of Peggy-O. And wow did the crowd stay quiet for this one, especially when it become apparent how hushed and reticent his voice was. For the high notes you had to crook your neck forward to hear, but I must say Iâve never heard his voice sound so soothing. It felt like you were with him in his living room. With JK, however, it was more like being around a raucous campfire. He projected, intoned, resonated, and more or less just stole the show. I have a completely new respect for the Ryan Adams song Peaceful Valley. Dire Wolf and Bertha were rollicking and bouncy. Here Comes Sunshine was a ray thereof. But the knockout punch was Visions of Johanna. The lyric sheet was clearly placed and the light on JKâs music stand adjusted. Being able to refer sporadically to the lyrics made him that much more confident. And his reading was breathtaking - both forceful and seductive. Unbelievably, the guy behind me and to my right not only knew most all the lyrics but proved it by mouthing them softly. I suffered through a few verses before realizing he wasnât going to stop, so I told him âHey man, itâs really impressive that you know all the words to this song, but I can hear you as loud as John.â Thankfully that shut him up, and it might also have shamed him as he left the area when the song was over. Lyrics always have a way of taking on a continued, evolving meaning with the Grateful Dead, whether it be their own songs or those of others. In Visions, several lines had a newfound resonance, such as âAin't it just like the night to play tricks when you're tryin' to be so quietâ, âLights flicker from the opposite loftâ, and of course âThe ghost of electricityâ. Unmistakably powerful stuff. After playing for just over an hour, they closed the show with a magnificent I Know You Rider, featuring splendid, potent harmonies. And then, with what was probably a collective breath of âThank god we made it through that,â the show was over. The crowd whooped, banged, and hollered rambunctiously for several moments after the musicians had retreated up the stairwell, but when the candles were blown out it was clear there would be no encore. It occurred to me that not only were such unforeseen circumstances necessary for this scenario to have gone down, but had the power actually come back on at any point (and itâs amazing that it didnât) the unique and astonishing vibe would have been derailed. What an improvised, singular experience, the likes of which will almost certainly never be witnessed again. I wouldnât want to be part of such an experiment with a NYC crowd of socially lubricated Heads, but the West Coast folks were able to make it work. In the Lesh household, I fancy that JKâs stock just skyrocketed. The set list went like this: Casey Jones Dire Wolf Bertha Folsom Prison Blues Here Comes Sunshine Peggy-O Peaceful Valley Dark Hollow Visions Of Johanna Jack-A-Roe Donât Ease Me In I Know You Rider
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The best thing I saw by a country mile at Terrapin Crossroads was a bar show that featured Phil and JK. Shortly before show time a generator blew somewhere in the neighborhood, knocking the place dark. When it became clear the power wasn't going back on, acoustic instruments were fetched as well as a gorgeous array of candles lining the band as they sat in stools. JK laid down a Visions that evening that was quite literally haunting, to a completely silent and enraptured crowd. Goosebumps.
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I like it when a song like Stagger Lee is so new the Dead weren't sure what to do with it let, thus the set closer spot. And IIRC, Jerry really belts out this one.
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Great Stella at original show.
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Ouch - I'm better than that! đ I knew it wasn't '90 but should have recalled '89 - great runs of shows that year at Cal Expo.
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Not 2 min, but there was a Dark Star post space at Deer Creek in '93 that was shorter than that night's The Wheel. đ˛
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Off the top of my head there's only one other Rider with no China Cat since China->Rider became a thing. Cal Expo, '91 I think?