Excerpt from Deadology
The
Dead made the third stop of their northeast tour on the campus of William and
Mary on 9-11-73. It’s Mickey’s 30th birthday, but he wasn’t a member of the
Dead at this juncture. The first set flows nicely until it explodes when “China
Cat” is played in the eighth spot. It’s around this time in ’73 that “China
Cat” flourishes into a beast. As the band pounces on the heavy “Cat” jam,
there’s that wonderful dichotomy of patient, thoughtful playing in the thick of
a brewing storm. As the band elegantly skates past the crescendo and works
toward the “Feelin’ Groovy” motif, the musical blend is striking—the
psychedelic intensity of Haight Ashbury melts in a stream of steaming jazz.
In
the penultimate slot in the set, “Mississippi Half-Step” is ripe and bursting
at the seams. You can hear the intoxicating effect of the song in Jerry’s
vocals and the shuffling groove of the band. It’s inevitable that the
instrumentals within would continue to flourish. That’s not as apparent in the
second tune of the set, “Sugaree.” As sweet as the Dead shake it, “Sugaree”
shows no signs of turning into the masterpiece it would become in ’77 and
beyond. The opening set of 9-11-73 ends with another mind-bending ramble
through “Playin’ in the Band.”
The
first two nights of this tour were in the Nassau Coliseum. On 9-7-73, the
latest Weir/Barlow composition, “Let it Grow,” was debuted. Garcia’s garrulous
guitar shredding made this a huge success. The following night in Nassau,
“Weather Report Suite” was played in its entirety. This Wake of the Flood anthem had already been recorded in the studio,
and the album was due for release on October 15. The second set of William and
Mary begins with Keith’s contribution to Wake of the Flood, “Let Me Sing
Your Blues Away,” as guest horn players Martin Fierro and Joe Ellis join the
Dead on stage for the first time. Martin and Joe were in Doug Sahm’s band, the
opening act for this tour.
Fierro
and Ellis remain as the Dead break into “Weather Report Suite.” You have to
respect the Dead’s thirst for fresh adventures, but more horns equal less
Garcia. And the way Jerry nailed that first version of “Let it Grow,” any
interruption by any musician, with the possible exception of Miles Davis, was
unnecessary. I’m a huge jazz admirer, and this might have worked with the right
players, but these talented cats sounded out of place and too loud. Luckily,
they were only on board for the first three songs.
“Row
Jimmy” returned the Dead to their natural hypnotic flow, and it was the fourth
consecutive Wake of The Flood tune.
After three more standalones put the band into their element, they rolled out
“Dark Star.” For the most part it’s a delightfully understated journey,
atmospheric and embracing. Seventeen minutes pass before the first verse. Phil
takes command of the next jam, and early on I hear hints of “The Dew.” As Phil
carpet-bombs William and Mary, the rest of the band seemingly cowers in fear
and prepares for the inevitable. This bass-driven jam is as much a “Morning
Dew” prelude as it is a continuation of “Dark Star.” William and Mary College, the
second-oldest American institution of higher education, founded in 1693, was
about to experience an aural sensation and molecular transformation that
couldn’t be explained in any lecture hall.
The
musical terrain has been eviscerated, and out of the rumbling ruins of Phil’s
bass, “Morning Dew” is born. Jerry’s solemn voice sings respectfully, as if
he’s comforting survivors of a nuclear holocaust. It’s eerie, and ultimately
moving as Garcia connects with the spirit of the lyrics. Suspense is born out of
the stillness of this version.
Keith
and Jerry carefully walk out in the morning dew to Phil’s sobbing bass.
Garcia’s emotional playing comes through in soft, rolling waves. The band’s
executing in conjunction with their leader, and the music swirls and intensifies
naturally—the laws of physics are in play. Yet, the thickness of the bass and
the temperature and velocity of these guitar notes can’t be charted. As the
shit’s about to hit the fan, the soundboard recording cuts out, as if it
couldn’t handle the heat. Luckily, a Deadhead is out there making a decent
audience recording, and this is wonderfully spliced in—not one note is lost.
Garcia’s guitar runs squeal like sirens and then he pulls back as Keith bangs
away and thunderous bass clears the way for the final run. Jerry’s
chord-fanning sequence climbs the high-frequency ladder faster and faster, with
Weir matching him in a lower register every step of the way until the last
remaining voice sighs, “I guess it doesn’t matter anyway.”
A
“Sugar Magnolia” rampage turned William and Mary College Hall into a sweaty
mess of happy hippies. The 9-11-73 Morning Dew > Sugar Magnolia gives us two
of the best versions from a legendary year. The Dead played one of the all-time
great “Dews” in Alexandra Palace, London, on 9-10-74. For this narrative, it
would have been a nice coincidence if this “Dew” was played at their second
performance in Alexandra Palace on 9-11. The first gig with “The Dew,” on
9-10-74, was the better show. However, night two gives us several outstanding
performances.
September 11
offers several elite performances through the years, but the version of “Happy
Birthday” by Joan Baez for Mickey Hart on 9-11-81 is one of the best you’ll
ever hear. Joan opens the show by belting out a traditional “Happy Birthday”
before segueing into a quick riff off the Stevie Wonder interpretation. It’s
the best “Happy Birthday” since 5-19-62 Madison Square Garden when Marilyn
Monroe seductively sang it for President Kennedy. On Mickey’s first performance
with the Dead on his birthday, the band busts into “New Minglewood Blues.” This
is opening night of what would be a fabulous three-night residency in the
magnificent Greek Theater, and it’s the first time the band has played the
Greek since ’68.
The first six
songs were typical fare, and then Deadheads in the Greek were thrilled to hear
“Cumberland Blues,” the third version since it was returned to the lineup after
a seven-year hiatus. Classic tunes getting lost in the shuffle is inevitable
for a band with an ever-expanding repertoire. “Cumberland” is followed by three
solid Go to Heaven performances,
“Althea,” Sailor > Saint, and the set closes with a pulsating “Deal.”
“Feel Like a
Stranger” starts set two with that idiosyncratic Dead groove. Garcia plays
gorgeous melodic lines through the jam as Weir and Mydland fill the space between
with funky riffs and noises. Jerry holds back a bit here, but all restraints
vanish as the band frolics into “Franklin’s Tower.” Each solo is attacked with
gusto as Billy and Mickey ensure a steady ride with their unshakable rhythm.
There’s a perky tone to Jerry’s bubbling leads as this show develops a unique sonic
personality.
After a raw “Women
Are Smarter,” “He’s Gone” swerves into “Truckin’.” The “Truckin’” crescendo
smolders into an “Other One” jam, although that hasn’t been properly documented
in Deadbase or other set list sites.
It’s more than a tease, it’s a tantalizing three minutes of “Other One,” which
is resumed after Drums. The jamming is hot here, but Weir cuts Jerry off by
entering the verses too quickly. However, Garcia won’t be denied. He noodles
his way into another solo after the second verse, making that a total of four
healthy “Other One” solos.
It was that kind
of night. All roads are leading towards “Morning Dew” and the crowd howls,
yodels, and roars as Jerry smoothly rolls into the opening licks of “The Dew,”
only the third version of the year. Ascending into the majestic jam, the
drummers push the tempo a little quicker than usual, but Garcia takes control
of the intuitive and builds his solo soulfully. Brent’s sweeping organ takes
the jam to the next plateau as Garcia’s playing intensifies with the overall
volume. The chord-fanning crescendo is fabulous; Garcia seemingly hits on a
frequency that’s engrained with that distinctive 9-11-81 Greek sound. Dew >
Johnny B. Goode completes a quality set and birthday celebration.
Our next Mickey
Hart birthday bash takes us to the high deserts of New Mexico and a place they
call Santa Fe. On their second night in Santa Fe Downs on 9-11-83, the
first-set song selection was uninspired. There was no reason to believe that a
special second set was imminent.
The resplendent bouncing beat of
“Help on the Way” clears a path for glory at the start of set two. More than
any other opening combo, Help > Slipknot! > Franklin’s can positively
alter the tone of a show. “Slipknot!” is stretched out and explored as it was
nine days earlier in Boise. The next time they play this, in Madison Square
Garden on 10-12-83, the potential of this Blues
for Allah masterpiece is fully realized. In Santa Fe there’s extraordinary
individual virtuosity in Slipknot! > Franklin’s, yet, collectively, the
band’s execution’s sloppy at times. There are two factors in play here: the
furious jamming is too hot to handle, and the band isn’t listening to each
other as it had in years past.
There was no cooling off as the band
follows with “Let it Grow,” an apropos choice in the high deserts of Santa Fe,
a pleading prayer to the gods. Garcia’s playing is savage here; you can get
whiplash listening to this. In the long jam, the band had established a
three-pronged attack where Weir signals the transition to each segment. In
Santa Fe, Garcia just puts his head down and plows the fields without much
regard for structure. More Garcia is always a winning formula, even if it comes
off a tad chaotic at times. This doesn’t have the framed brilliance of the
8-7-82 Alpine Valley “Let it Grow,” but The Boys deliver an elite
fifteen-minute rendition. And then they collapse into a weary “He’s Gone” that
drifts into Drums.
“Truckin’” segues into “Wang Dang
Doodle.” Weir has trouble remembering the words, so the band jams extra-long as
Weir recalls the lyrics. This isn’t Madison Square Garden, there’s no pressure.
On take two Weir gets it right, and there’s more blues jamming. On the verge of
Dead show immortality, Garcia makes the crucial decision to segue into “Morning
Dew.” Wang Dang Doodle > Dew has a nice ring to it.
Although Garcia’s voice is a little
scratchy and the tempo’s a tad fast, this had the makings of a killer “Dew.”
Garcia develops the final jam nicely, and the band’s playing loud by his side.
As they move towards the crescendo, Phil and Brent play like madmen. I expect
to hear Jerry rise to the occasion and finish it off heroically, except he
whiffs and just ends it, “I guess it doesn’t matter anywayyyyyyyyy!” The band
gets an A+ for effort as they follow with Around and Around > Sugar
Magnolia. Mickey’s 40th birthday celebration ends with “U.S. Blues.”
More on other 9-11
shows in Deadology: The 33 Essential Dates of Grateful Dead History
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