That guy is a trip, I saw him do a late night set at Nelson’s ledges and he was a freak about people taking his picture. This was before camera phones were a common thing, he had issues with just a regular camera and it was the biggest part of his set. I thought he was going to jump off stage and kick someone’s ass. I know I wouldn’t mess with that old bastard. he opened for Todd snider last night in Colorado and joined him for his encore. He seems to be getting a good bit attention in the last month for the first time in 4o years.
No, I’m addicted to being offended and confrontation. The internet is the best thing that’s ever happened for me.
Gettin’ psyched for the upcoming Philly ‘73 Dave’s by playing the final show of the Spring ‘73 East Coast tour: Dave’s Picks Volume 21 Boston Garden, Boston, MA 4/2/73
Using candleflame and lemon juice I was able to discern @fishcane's original post before apparent fear of public rebuke led to bit of conformist reductionism: It's gotta be Mayer A stone cold playa Phat riffs, not anorexic Better'n Garcia when cachexic Courage comes in all forms. For instance, I'm headed to Knoxville shortly with friends who plan a definitive live demonstrate as to how the erratic, atonal, and cacophonous howlings of a traditional piano, standup bass, and minimal drum trio constitute higher art. Having covertly listened to the Bandcamp CliffNotes, as well as orienting my compass to true north with a bit of Jarret/Peacock/DeJohnette, I feel critically - if not aesthetically - prepared. Edit - thread relevance: none.
Kate - all you need is an open mind and heart to hear formally unlistenable genius improvisational magic music. When you are near NYC, check in here
Fun story, I saw some of the first Rat Dog shows in 1996 with Vince in the band. I had a very good attitude about going to the show, I played Heaven Help every day for a month leading up to it. Day of the show I ate some boomers and got tits on the rail at Mesa Amphitheater. Bobby came out wearing that shirt and what I now understand to be yoga pants. The linen kind that are cut off mid calf. He may have had the pink guitar but in I’m not certain. It REALLY freaked me out. The show was horrendous, nothing like Heaven Help the fool or anything that resembled what a man that spent 30 years playing guitar with the grateful dead should be doing. Vince's face was bright red like a fever blister that was about to pop and he may have been nodding off, his playing was very sloppy and booby was getting bitchy about it. Bobby ran through a 3 minute version of FOTD that was just down right offensive. I looked over at my buddy and we knew it was time to bail. I’m still disturbed by that shirt. Dare I say, offended.
The Playing the Band is quite notable as well. Jerry’s complete mastery of his wah pedal as an improvisatory tool by this point is impressive.
Tonight I'm doing a compare/contrast of Slipknot! (no Help; no Franklin's, just Slipknot!) from 2/26/77, 5/9/77, 5/22/77 and 6/9/77. Each one gets two listens in varying order. For my first pass, I'm listening to the 2/26/77 version last simply because I've listened to that something like 17 times over the past several days. I'm fairly convinced that the best version lies somewhere therein (which just so happens to correspond, when one adds in the rather brief/LP-derivative 8/13/75 version, to the top 5 at headylemmingsversion. I know; don't rub it in. Even a broken clock is right twice a day).
I can't tell the players without a scorecard. It used to be that you could buy a program and scorecard at baseball game for $1.00 (or perhaps even $0.50) when I was a yute. Now they're probably $27.50 plus a two-drink minimum at $13 a pop (not fly). So, are we all ignoring each other now or is this some inside joke where the 73-second listeners don't get clued in?
