Deadology Collaborations: July 10

Transcendent Moments 

7-10-81 St. Paul: This show looks great on paper, but most of the performances are sluggish. Luckily, that didn’t stop the Dead from trying to create magic after Drums as they put together this astounding loop: Uncle John’s Band > Playin’ in the Band > China Doll > UJB > Playin’ > Around and Around > Good Lovin’, and a “Casey Jones” encore. The crowd in St. Paul was ecstatic, and the novelty of this loop makes this a tape worth checking out.

7-10-73 Keystone, Berkeley: This was a fabulous night for Dylan covers. The day after Jerry’s death, August 10, 1995, Bob Dylan issued a press release on Jerry’s passing, which turned out to be the most poignant eulogy delivered for Garcia. Describing Jerry’s playing, Dylan said, “He’s the very spirit personified of whatever is Muddy River country at its core and screams up into the spheres… There’s a lot of spaces and advances between The Carter Family, Buddy Holly and, say, Ornette Coleman, a lot of universes, but he filled them all without being a member of any school. His playing was moody, awesome, sophisticated, hypnotic and subtle.”

If you listen to “It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry,” the fourth song of 7-10-73, you’ll understand what Dylan meant. Jerry lifted this tune out of the realm of Dylan creation, or standard blues, and delivered it in his mesmerizing style. The chord progression is at the same time stunning and soothing, rolling with the certainty of waves kissing the California coast. Garcia unloads hotter guitar solos in other versions of “It Takes a Train,” but this one is album-perfect, even though the rendition from the following night was used on Live at Keystone. Garcia tops off the 7-10-73 version with some falsetto vocal flourishes towards the end.

            The pride and joy of Live at Keystone (7-10-73), is the second track, “Positively 4th Street,” the next to last song of set two. Garcia taps into the heartbreak of the tune without anger. Dylan gave us this gift while the anger of being booed at the ’65 Newport Festival still tormented him. It’s a phenomenal performance, and so is Garcia’s gem. Jerry slows down the narrative to frame Dylan’s thoughts, and then his evocative solos reinforce the weight of the lyrics. On this date, a simple twist of fate would bring Garcia and Dylan together on the same stage fourteen years later in JFK Stadium.

7-10-87 JFK Stadium: Highlights of Dylan/Dead set: Song number two featured Garcia on pedal steel guitar as Dylan whined and wheezed his way through “I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight.” Redemption came during the fourth tune, “The Ballad of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest.” Dylan sang this dialogue between the best of friends from John Wesley Harding (1968) live for the first time. Dylan remembers most of the words and does a nice job reconnecting with his creation as the Dead play an upbeat arrangement that works. Jerry would go on to cover “Frankie Lee” with David Grisman in the studio.

This hit and miss show picked up some steam towards the end with a “Joey,” “All Along the Watchtower” finale followed by a “Touch of Grey” encore. Dylan and the Dead playing an MTV video of a hit song in front of a packed stadium must have seemed unfathomable after the prior year’s disaster when they played together. Dylan, backed by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, opened for the Dead in Washington, D.C. On 7-8-86. Dylan joined the Dead on stage for a pair of hideous performances. Two days later, Garcia lapsed into a diabetic coma. As off-kilter as this 7-10-87 show was at times, the fact that the Dead and Dylan were back on track was reason to celebrate. 

7-10-89 Giants Stadium: The Neville Brothers joined the Dead during Drums, and the logical outcome was “Iko Iko,” which was covered by the Neville Brothers on their 1981 album Fiyo on the Bayou. Garcia was ebullient as he fired off preambles to the chorus: “I’m talkin’ ’bout hey now… Let me hear you say hey now.”

An adventurous “All Along the Watchtower” that veers between rock, jazz, and anarchy follows. Out of nowhere, the Dead were on the verge of salvaging an uneventful evening. The Neville Brothers provided the impetus, and the Dead were eager to show them what it’s like to stop time in its tracks in a football stadium with 80,000 witnesses as they rang the bell for “Morning Dew.”

            When the Dead played the first Watchtower > Dew in Madison Square Garden on 9-18-87, it was the most thrilling live moment of my years following the Dead. The next one I saw at Oxford, Maine, on 7-2-88, was almost anti-climactic. Seeing the “Dew” was always colossal, but in the late ’80s, this once rare anthem had become commonplace. Garcia’s vocals are engaging on the 7-10-89 “Dew.” The middle solo rises like a tsunami and folds back into Giants Stadium. Garcia finishes the last verse and shrieks: “I guess it doesn’t matter anyway” four times. What happened next was absolutely brilliant—the last mind-blowing solo I’d hear from Jerry (I only saw four more shows in the ’90s).

            The majestic jam emerges with frisky licks that cascade through the swampy Jersey night. At the 9:10 mark, Jerry strikes a chord that rings out as if he’s punching a time clock. The creative direction of the solo changes as Garcia’s fingers scramble through scales, east and west, north and south, and then he retraces his footprints in reverse. It’s a stunning sequence, unlike anything in any other “Dew.” Garcia easily slides into the climactic crescendo, but the musicians are a step behind. Perhaps they were induced into a trance by the Bearded One’s virtuosity. As Garcia rams this across the finish line with rapid chord fanning, I envisioned myself paying my taper friend a visit the following day to dub a copy of the show. I knew that this was a solo I’d cherish. Since 7-10-89, I’ve listened to that solo at least 1,000 times.

            “Sugar Magnolia” was the ideal set closer. After an obligatory lead guitar surge, Jerry stepped back and let the driving rhythms engulf Giants Stadium as Deadheads bopped and bounced to the certainty of the beat laid down by the Neville Brothers and the Dead. The show closed with a soothing “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door.” Post drums came off like a short historical documentary on the history of American music. Iko Iko (Nevilles/Cajun) > All Along the Watchtower (Hendrix/Dylan/classic rock) > Morning Dew (Pure Jerry/Holy Grail) > Sugar Magnolia (Grateful Dead feelgood anthem), “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” (Dylan spiritual). 

Check out my July 10 YouTube Playlist. Several of the above mentioned performances are there, as well as a Jerry Garcia interview from 7-10-81.

The Perfect Eulogy from Dylan to Jerry

There’s no way to measure his greatness or magnitude as a person or as a player. I don’t think any eulogizing will do him justice. He was that great, much more than a superb musician, with an uncanny ear and dexterity. He’s the very spirit personified of whatever is Muddy River country at its core and screams up into the spheres. He really had no equal. To me he wasn’t only a musician and friend, he was more like a big brother who taught and showed me more than he’ll ever know. There’s a lot of spaces and advances between The Carter Family, Buddy Holly and, say, Ornette Coleman, a lot of universes, but he filled them all without being a member of any school. His playing was moody, awesome, sophisticated, hypnotic and subtle. There’s no way to convey the loss. It just digs down really deep...BOB DYLAN 

Every time I read this press release from Dylan the day after Garcia’s passing (8-10-95) I get choked up because in one paragraph, Dylan captures the essence of Jerry. It’s an elegant portrait, one that any fan of Garcia’s loves. Each thought from Dylan states something essential to what made Jerry Garcia such a beloved musician and person.

There’s no way to measure his greatness or magnitude as a person or as a player. For those who loved Jerry’s music, we never needed validation of his greatness. He never won Grammy Awards, or was voted the greatest guitar player in Rolling Stone. Just having the exquisite musical taste to enjoy his music is an eternal blessing. In his thirty years of public service with the Grateful Dead and Jerry Garcia Band, he gave more of himself to his fans than any other musician, with the possible exception of Dylan. Work eight days a week and baby give it all to you. That’s what love will for you. That’s what love will make you do. Dylan and Garcia were friends for twenty-five years, but their friendship grew deeper during the last ten years of Jerry’s life. For those of us who never met Jerry, we got to know him intimately threw his music, which was filled with compassion, inspiration, and wisdom.

I don’t think any eulogizing will do him justice. Many brilliant and kind souls tried, but Dylan’s press release came as close to doing Jerry justice as anything.

He was that great, much more than a superb musician, with an uncanny ear and dexterity. He’s the very spirit personified of whatever is Muddy River country at its core and screams up into the spheres. There are a lot of superb musicians, but there was only one Jerry. From Old Weird America and the Delta Blues to anything that was authentic Americana, Jerry weaved through this terrain and glorified the best of that expansive milieu.

He really had no equal. Amen.

To me he wasn’t only a musician and friend, he was more like a big brother who taught and showed me more than he’ll ever know: Dylan was a year older than Jerry, and if anything, Jerry probably saw Dylan as the big brother. I think what Dylan is getting at here is the calming warmth, patience, and trust that Garcia exhibited. Garcia had a knack for trusting those around him for good or ill. Throughout his career he had faith in the members of his bands, and the extended family that surrounded him. Dylan seemed to trust in nobody but himself, but that changed after his time touring with the Grateful Dead. He adopted the non-stop Grateful Dead touring philosophy, and he’s employed bassist Tony Garnier for the last twenty-eight years, drummer George Receli has been there for fifteen years, and lead guitarist Charlie Sexton has been with Bob for more than ten years. Jerry was a reliable friend and calming influence during a turbulent time in Dylan’s life. When Dylan couldn’t find the essence and joy of his own songs, he turned to Garcia, because he knew Jerry had tuned into the spirit and essence of Dylan’s songs when he covered them.

There’s a lot of spaces and advances between The Carter Family, Buddy Holly and, say, Ornette Coleman, a lot of universes, but he filled them all without being a member of any school. Garcia always put his own distinctive stamp on songs that he covered, elongating, magnifying, and celebrating the creation without copying it. He explored the nooks and crannies around, and within, the melodies, hooks, and riffs. Time constraints were disregarded when Jerry was covering a tune he loved. He never tried to imitate or show up the original artist, he just wanted to share his passion for the song. Everything Jerry played was an original even if it was a cover, and it always had a distinctive style that excluded being a member of any school.

His playing was moody, awesome, sophisticated, hypnotic and subtle. Those are the perfect adjectives to describe Garcia’s playing. In that regard, he’s more like Miles Davis than any other musician.

There’s no way to convey the loss. It just digs down really deep. There will never be another Jerry Garcia. Just think of the pleasure he would have had covering Dylan songs from albums like Time Out of Mind and Love & Theft. Somewhere in God’s heaven Jerry heard Dylan’s words (eulogy) and he’s still smiling. And fans of Jerry are still smiling because he left us a treasure trove of music that will continue to inspire us for as long as we live.

Dylan and Garcia Highgate, Vermont '95

 Books by Howard F. Weiner

 

 

Dylan and the Grateful Dead: A Tale of Twisted Fate on Amazon

 

 DEADOLOGY: The 33 Essential Dates of Grateful Dead History