Deadology: October 17

            The Grateful Dead continued their early ’80s fall tour domination by playing four consecutive years on this date, as well as playing three quality shows on October 17 in the early ’70s. On October 17, 1994, Bob Dylan joined the Dead for an encore in Madison Square Garden. It was their final performance together. If there’s one show that stands above the others on this date, it would have to be 10-17-83 Lake Placid. This was a special evening that was influenced by the magic of the venue and the current state of world affairs.

            There was great anticipation amongst Deadheads for this show in Lake Placid, New York. Olympic Center became an American shrine on the night of February 22, 1980, when the US hockey team shocked the world by beating the Soviet Union 4–3 and went on to win the gold medal. At the time, American hostages were being humiliated in Iran, and the Soviet Union had invaded Afghanistan. Stagnation and inflation crippled the US economy, and frustrated motorists had to wait hours in line to get gas. The improbable upset of the Soviets, the greatest hockey team in the world, by a group of baby-faced American amateurs was a much-needed outlet for Americans to celebrate a collective victory, and at least temporarily revitalize the nation’s spirit. By 1983, many of these economic problems had eased, but the Cold War with the Soviet Union was still chilly.

            Pumped to play in Olympic Center, the Dead came out blazing with “Sugaree.” Garcia seems particularly fired up as he steps into the opening solo. The next jam starts off hot, and after Jerry moves through several phases, nothing but molten lava pours out of his Tiger. The band’s doing their thing, but Garcia isn’t waiting for any cues as he breaks out the full assortment of quick-picking runs in his “Sugaree” arsenal. Garcia shifts into Beast Mode with petrified chord fanning and a sneaky/ornery run before singing, “You know in spite of all you gave. You still have to stand out in the pouring rain.”

            This would have been a great “Sugaree” even if Garcia mailed in the third solo. But Garcia was an American hero in an enchanted venue. There’s no hesitation or deception as Garcia attacks with the galloping chord > peeling onion lick motif. Garcia’s gone mad. There’s more guitar soloing in the Lake Placid “Sugaree” than any of the epic ’77 versions. The reason I give the nod of best “Sugaree” to 5-19-77 Fox Theatre or 5-28-77 Hartford is that on those occasions, the band is discovering how far they can go with “Sugaree,” blowing away any preconceived notions of the song. And the ’77 jams are crafted in a sophisticated manner where the band is improvising and clicking as one. On 10-17-83 Garcia is possessed, and clearly the most inspired musician in the band, and it’s a beautiful thing. If you place this masterpiece alongside the 10-12-83 Help > Slipknot! > Franklin’s (MSG) and the 10-14-83 Scarlet > Fire (Hartford), you’re looking at one of the special weeks in Dead history.

            It’s rare that the top performance from a show comes in the opening slot as it does in Lake Placid. However, Garcia and crew remained inspired all night. Clean versions of “Little Red Rooster” and “Friend of the Devil” follow the grand opener. Sleep in the stars. Jerry sweetly sings as he manipulates his strings to noodle and tweet “Birdsong” in the fifth spot. During “Hell in a Bucket” Weir sings, “Like a friend of mine once said, ‘Ride, Sally, ride!” I didn’t realize Weir was buddies with Wilson Pickett. The last two times I saw “Bucket” on this tour, “Day Job” followed. On this night, in this consecrated arena, Jerry went for the jugular and busted out “Deal.”

            The “Deal” jam taps into the Olympic spirit. As I listen to this improvisation, I can envision ice skaters performing triple lutz and axel jumps to the sonic barrage. Garcia sends Deadhead nation airborne as the drummers and Phil push the pace. The relentless jam also has an aura of unhinged celebration: “Do you believe in miracles?” It sounds like the band has had enough around the eight-minute mark, but Garcia wants to impress the judges with his long program. The energy radiated by Garcia is surreal when one considers his subpar physical condition. The rhapsodic momentum of “Deal” sounds as if it’s emanating from an extremely athletic band. This was the most satisfying seven-song opening set that I ever witnessed.

            “We will get by-eye-eye, we will survive.” A “Touch of Grey” sing-along ignites the second half of the ceremony. “Touch” is an empowering anthem for humanity in the thick of the Cold War. After some silent contemplation, the drummers pound out the beginning of “Samson and Delilah,” a fitting choice in an arena where the strongest hockey team on Earth was humbled in biblical fashion by young upstarts. There’s a slashing grind to Garcia’s guitar as it skates on the band’s slick foundation—the crowd can imagine what it’s like to be checked into the boards of a hockey rink without the physical sacrifice. Garcia follows with a poignant presentation of “To Lay Me Down.” As always, this is a rare selection, and I was thrilled to see it for the first time. Jerry doesn’t quite nail it like he did in Kansas City on 8-3-82, but it still soothed our souls.

            After “Women Are Smarter,” everybody swayed and sang as one to the National Anthem of Deadhead Nation: “Terrapin Station.” Inspiration, move me brightly. Herb Brooks didn’t say that to his team, but he implied that before the US took the ice against the Soviet machine. In one of my previous books (Tangled Up in Tunes), I suggested the “Terrapin” refrain could serve as a universal replacement for National Anthems during medal ceremonies. It has a royal ring to it, and it hit the spot in Lake Placid.

            After Drums, Space slowly whirls into “The Wheel.” Behind the stage, a group of Heads formed a sizeable circle and rotated in time to the beat. The joy in Olympic Center is tangible as one listens to the tape. Jerry’s giving it his all and loving the moment. “The Wheel” segues into the inevitable “I Need a Miracle,” followed by Goin’ Down the Road Feelin’ Bad > Good Lovin’. The flow of the show is jubilant and resolute. A “Wharf Rat” or “Black Peter” would have been out of place. The show comes full circle as the Dead perform their second rendition of “Revolution.” If you go carrying pictures of Chairman Mao. You ain’t gonna make it with anyone anyhow. You know it’s gonna be alright. It was a gold medal night for the ultimate All-American band, the Grateful Dead. 

            Fall tour ’83 was special, and the following year followed in those footsteps. After successful two-show stints in Worcester, Augusta, and Hartford, the Dead’s ’84 tour rolled into the Brendan Byrne Arena for a pair. East Rutherford, New Jersey, had become the go-to destination when Madison Square Garden wasn’t available for a Deadhead invasion. At the time, I was disappointed with these Brendan Byrne shows. Such was the plight of a young Dead critic who was spoiled by legendary performances in Worcester and Augusta. I had attended the first ten shows of this East Coast tour, and I’d be missing the tour finale in Syracuse because I had to be at my brother’s bar mitzvah on that Saturday. It seemed like the band was a little tired, and they were saving their best for Syracuse. It turned out to be true, but I’ve come to cherish part of this Brendan Byrne show.

            I can’t rave about anything from the nine-song opening set of 10-17-84. Help on the Way > Slipknot! > Franklin’s Tower is a gem of an opener to kick off set two, even if it didn’t make a grand impression on me that night. This “Slipknot!” isn’t as long or majestic as my favorite from 10-12-83 Madison Square Garden, but Garcia tees off. His clever leads swirl around and bounce off Phil’s pounding bass attack. Garcia’s guitar licks ramble on impressively as the band’s foundation dissolves behind him. Jerry throws out the signature line prior to the Slip > Frank bridge. It’s a jarring statement, and Garcia finishes it with a devilish plinking twang. Garcia leads his mates to the bridge and abruptly double-times the melody as the band scrambles to stay with their inspired leader. The hair-raising transition explodes into “Franklin’s.” It’s as exhilarating a start to “Franklin’s” as there is. Garcia accentuates the moment with shrieking leads before the first verse. His voice is bolstered by echo and reverb courtesy of Healy. Garcia’s off to the races. The sharp guitar tone combined with Jerry’s aggression makes this an invigorating listen, although this “Franklin’s” suffers from blown lyrics and sloppy execution.

            After “Women Are Smarter,” there’s a “Terrapin” that comes off a bit ragged. The band’s lack of communication continues after Drums as Weir jumps into the opening verse of “The Other One” with minimal instrumental buildup. In his race to start “The Other One,” Bobby blows the words. After finishing off this hideous creature, Weir blows the whistle and here comes “Truckin’.” The outro jam leads to a brief “Nobody’s Fault” flirtation. Garcia’s worn voice suits “Stella Blue” well. This fine presentation segues into “Goin’ Down the Road.” Bobby suggests “Satisfaction,” but the rest of the band steps on that idea as they end the set. It seems like Bobby was at odds with the band’s will on this night. Garcia sings his third song in a row with a “Brokedown Palace” encore. This show, which I found disappointing at the time, is a better listen on tape, and the Help > Slipknot! > Franklin’s is an imperfect masterpiece.

 For more on Oct. 17 and the other essential dates of GD history, check out Deadology