As I have discussed in prior chapters, there were an array of issues with the actual performances coming out of the Grateful Dead during the years 1992-1995. What I have not yet discussed are the issues with 'deadheads' during those years. I put the term 'deadheads' in quotes because, for the moment, it is a term that will be used as a catch-all. However, very shortly, we'll see that term used a bit more selectively and with harsher levels of discrimination.
I'll start with some of the basics of this discussion. First, to be a deadhead, you have to love the Grateful Dead. It does not mean that you have to be an apologist and not be critical of them, but you do have to some serious love for this band. Second, here is my list of absolute requirements that will disqualify you from being a card-carrying deadhead:
* If you went to the parking lot of a Grateful Dead show more for the party than you did for the music, you were not a deadhead.
* If you absolutely had to have drugs or alcohol to enjoy yourself at a Grateful Dead show, then you were not a deadhead. BTW - I'm not being a teetotaler here, I'm just conveying that if you, in your basic biological 'natural state' dont enjoy the Grateful Dead, then you're not a deadhead. If you did drugs at every show that is fine. But if you could not enjoy yourself without drugs at a Grateful Dead show, you had bigger issues to work on.
* If you did not know at least half of the names of the songs they played that night, then you were not a deadhead. That is not to say that couldnt walk out of the show mesmerized after witnessing something that was previously unfamiliar and now not be a potential deadhead. That happened all the time. Sometimes people saw the band, were totally blown away, and learned what all the songs were a bit later.
* If you talked a lot during the show to your buddy next to you, then you're not a deadhead. Deadheads LISTEN to the Grateful Dead. Saying something really quick during the music once in a while is not some kind of foul. But if you talked through an entire song on multiple occasions (other than drums and space), then you were not a deadhead.
* If you got shut out of more shows than you got into, then you're definitely not a deadhead. Showing up without a ticket, generally, is fine. But the caveat with the previous statement is that you were willing to do just about anything (short of violent crime or sexually debasing yourself) to secure a ticket. That means paying an exorbitant fee or trading something of extremely high value for a ticket is totally acceptable. So I'll restate this rule in a slightly different way; if you were perfectly content to just sit outside in the parking lot while the Grateful Dead played to a paying audience, then you were not a deadhead
Sadly, a great number of the people at Grateful Dead concerts (inside the show and certainly outside the show) were not deadheads. This was as true as it was in 1973 as it was in 1993. As a real deadhead, you just kind of put up with it. Sadly, I was not there pre-1986. I have heard from reliable sources and also believe that 1986 was the year that the quality of Deadheads started to diminish in relation to the quantity of people at the actual concerts. This was mainly in part due to the full blown stadium tours with Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, along with Bob Dylan. The exposure those tours afforded the 'scene' was way more than it was ready to absorb.
It was pretty cool outside of a Grateful Dead show. There were lots of friendly people having a good time. Many of them having arrived from a variety of disparate places (geographically, economically, and socially) There were handcrafted items for sale and a sense of freedom from the everyday trappings and expectations of society. It seemed to be its own polite society unto itself. There were also a lot of social lubricants being freely passed around too. Generally, everybody liked that...sometimes a little too much. But up until 1986 the coolness of the Grateful Dead 'scene' was just a poorly kept secret that allowed it to exist with only a bit of hassle here and there. After 1986 it became a known destination for the masses and resulted in a classic case of 'the tragedy of the commons'; which is to say, a greater number of people took rather than gave.
There was a certain amount of inevitability to the scene's demise. Back in the 60s and the 70s it was en vogue among younger people to be very kind to your fellow human being. That began to very slowly transition in the 80s, and by the 90s it was mostly en vogue for a lot of the young (particularly men) to be aggressive. You could maybe blame punk rock, gangster rap, violence on TV, or the slow erosion of Victorian etiquette, but regardless of who or what was to blame, a certain segment of newer deadheads were very aggressive and a lot of that aggression would manifest itself after shows when they were drunk. It was an ugly element that had always been there, but now it was a trend among the younger deadheads that were 'on tour'.
Running in parallel, you had another very silly side to the deadhead community during those final years that was 'on tour' mainly there to sell wares. They had stumbled onto this big party and figured out that they could stay pretty buzzed and be a carnival barker while bringing in lots of cash.
Somewhere in all this were the real deadheads. Some of the real deadheads sold things, some of the real deadheads even got aggressive once in a while, and lots of them got buzzed. But none of them were aggressive most of the times. And none of the real deadheads were constantly figuring out ways to fleece people outside of the show. Maybe lots of the real deadheads got buzzed, but they mostly managed it in a mellow kind of way. The best deadheads I've met are kind of like the Grateful Dead band and crew themselves; passionately anti-authoritarian whilst simultaneously being politely uncooperative.
But people at the Grateful Dead concerts, by and large, during the years 1992-1995 were shit. I like to think that if you could empty out all of the people that were there just for the party (frat boys, curious voyeurs, drug takers that were not interested in Grateful Dead music, etc), and then get rid of those that were just 'on tour' parasites (i.e. - professional vendors), you would probably end up with about 60%-70% of the audience numbers that flocked to shows up until the 1995. That would leave you the Grateful Dead playing the occasional stadium in huge markets, but mostly shed-style outdoor venues and featureless basketball / hockey arenas. What I imagine is the audience mostly plateauing at 1984 and 1985 sizes. Imagine 30% to 40% of the audience being gone. You would basically never have more than 20-40 people outside of a show while the concert was going on. Maybe if they played a Berkeley Community Theater or a Red Rocks you would get 100+ shut out, but there would be less than 10 of those types of shows a year.
For you deadheads that were around in 1985 and before, it was a mellower scene right? There was still some craziness now and again, but by and large, the deadheads were different. I wish I got to experience that. My early years (1988 and 1989) had crowded shows and crowded parking lot scenes, but they did not have a lot of aggressive elements going on among the fans. I did not start seeing that until around 1992. And as I've said, 1992 is the beginning of the end. Not only for the band itself, but for the culture of deadheads. It was sad to watch it happen.
Sunday, August 6, 2017
The Midnight Audiophile - Chapter 3
For every severely devoted hobbyist that constantly tinkers with the items in their hobby, there has to be a moment when you are actually satisfied. Make no mistake, a tinkering hobbyist is different than a collector. A collector may reach points of satisfaction, but they tend to chase things around a lot and their collection (more often than not) just morphs around the idea of eventually being satisfied.
A tinkering hobbyist is the cyclist that is regularly taking parts on and off their bike, perhaps making it more rugged, or faster, or allowing it to add more-value-for-the-money. A tinkering chef may futz with gear a bit, but oftentimes they're experimenting with different herbs, sweeteners, rise times, roasting times, etc.
The tinkering audiophile may have an array of things they're chasing, but the most hardcore of them are trying to seek out truth. The truth? Yes, the truth. The accurate and real sound of instruments (they be percussion instruments, brass, woodwinds, strings, the human voice, or something else along those lines) is what the hardcore seek. A truly accurate replication of music from a time and place being played back in a living room. The aural truth of an event testifying over and over, at the whim of the audiophile, in his or her listening room.
People say sound is subjective. It is not. We sometimes put people away in jail (or to death!) based on audio recordings of their crimes. We recognize our friend's and family's voices from rooms we cannot see them if we hear them talking, Somewhere deep in our lizard brains we know the sound of a piano is different than the sound of a violin. We know the truth of these things because, with experience, they have characteristics that imprinted themselves on us, and thus define them in our aural memory for as long as we live. Instruments we hear pressurize air in a certain way. And depending on the environment (an empty room, or a room with lots of people talking, in a small room, etc), we know that these sounds we hear may sound different, but still instantly recognizable.
If you get a hearing test done, and you are able to hear in both ears at most of (if not the entire) frequency range that humans can hear at, then sound is not subjective. If you have impaired hearing, then sound will be subjective. But leaving the hearing impaired out of the conversation for a moment, the only other disadvantage that could be viewed as subjectivity is the 'untrained' ear.
The untrained ear may not pick up on sibilance, but the moment it is pointed out to the listener, they can easily pick up on it. So we all hear the same exact things, but we may not all be trained to articulate what we're hearing or sieze upon all the layers found in the waves in order to readily explain all of the nuances. A lack of vocabulary to describe sound (or a lack of skill to detect it) does not necessarily mean we hear differently.
Many audiophiles explain that they have preferences. They say things like, "I like a warm sound that is very musical". When they say things like that they are talking about the presentation of the music being played back through their system. Some audiophiles will say things like, "I try to have a very neutral presentation in my system". And then they have a few audiophile buddies over to hear that system and they gently tell their friend that his system is, "not so much neutral as it is a bit cold and sterile". Quite a confusing vocabulary!
But would the original audiophile with his preference for a 'neutral presentation' ever sit in front of a violinist and say something like, "please play me something with a neutral presentation". I think maybe the violinist would shake her head and laugh. WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN???
You dont get a "neutral presentation" from the violinist. You dont get something "warm and musical" from the violinist. You get a violin playing. You get the truth! So any audiophile that speaks in such a language of "golden glows" and "brittle highs" is either
a) imitating his buddies
b) imitating what he reads in magazines and audiophile review websites
c) still training his ears and doesnt know any better
d) legitimately knows why a system sounds wrong and has the proper vocabulary to describe it
It either sounds like the truth or not.
Now, one thing very few (if any?) systems will ever achieve is being able to play at the sound pressure level of louder unamplified instruments (think trombones, etc) . Nor will any system (ever?) be able to accurately replicate the sound of a full orchestra. However, there have been a few people that have tried over the decades, but we'll leave those endeavors out of this conversation for the moment.
When you put a system together, your first requirement should be that you can sit back and enjoy it (another top requirement should be whether you can afford it or not - please use common sense and dont go into debt for these things). Your next priority should be that it sounds relatively convincing from a tonal perspective. And perhaps a few final considerations should be how it looks, and how easy it is to operate.
A lot of audiophile will read that prior paragraph and be saying, "geez - why is he not talking about the room that the gear will be playing in", as one of the top priorities. I have not left that out. It is actually bundled into the first priority of "that you can sit back and enjoy it". If the speakers are too big for the room, then you wont enjoy it (crazy low end energy will dominate the listening sessions). If you have a small room and multi-driver speakers that you have to sit close to, then their respective sounds will not have a chance to integrate before they hit your ears. The scenarios go on and on with the wrong-system-for-the-room. Bottom line, if you have chosen gear for the room poorly, you will not enjoy the system.
Personally, after having a bad experience (and spending a criminal amount of money in the process to try and fix the problems) with room issues due to big speakers in a small room, I err on the side of smaller speakers for a rooms now. I'd rather come up shy in low frequencies than have them overpower and muddy everything else....but I have not had that problem for years. Anyway, my point is that "enjoying the system" means not having screwed up the system / room interplay.
So assuming that you've met the requirements of a system that you can enjoy, and that is sounds relatively convincing from a tonal perspective, now you can begin to tinker with it.
A tinkering hobbyist is the cyclist that is regularly taking parts on and off their bike, perhaps making it more rugged, or faster, or allowing it to add more-value-for-the-money. A tinkering chef may futz with gear a bit, but oftentimes they're experimenting with different herbs, sweeteners, rise times, roasting times, etc.
The tinkering audiophile may have an array of things they're chasing, but the most hardcore of them are trying to seek out truth. The truth? Yes, the truth. The accurate and real sound of instruments (they be percussion instruments, brass, woodwinds, strings, the human voice, or something else along those lines) is what the hardcore seek. A truly accurate replication of music from a time and place being played back in a living room. The aural truth of an event testifying over and over, at the whim of the audiophile, in his or her listening room.
People say sound is subjective. It is not. We sometimes put people away in jail (or to death!) based on audio recordings of their crimes. We recognize our friend's and family's voices from rooms we cannot see them if we hear them talking, Somewhere deep in our lizard brains we know the sound of a piano is different than the sound of a violin. We know the truth of these things because, with experience, they have characteristics that imprinted themselves on us, and thus define them in our aural memory for as long as we live. Instruments we hear pressurize air in a certain way. And depending on the environment (an empty room, or a room with lots of people talking, in a small room, etc), we know that these sounds we hear may sound different, but still instantly recognizable.
If you get a hearing test done, and you are able to hear in both ears at most of (if not the entire) frequency range that humans can hear at, then sound is not subjective. If you have impaired hearing, then sound will be subjective. But leaving the hearing impaired out of the conversation for a moment, the only other disadvantage that could be viewed as subjectivity is the 'untrained' ear.
The untrained ear may not pick up on sibilance, but the moment it is pointed out to the listener, they can easily pick up on it. So we all hear the same exact things, but we may not all be trained to articulate what we're hearing or sieze upon all the layers found in the waves in order to readily explain all of the nuances. A lack of vocabulary to describe sound (or a lack of skill to detect it) does not necessarily mean we hear differently.
Many audiophiles explain that they have preferences. They say things like, "I like a warm sound that is very musical". When they say things like that they are talking about the presentation of the music being played back through their system. Some audiophiles will say things like, "I try to have a very neutral presentation in my system". And then they have a few audiophile buddies over to hear that system and they gently tell their friend that his system is, "not so much neutral as it is a bit cold and sterile". Quite a confusing vocabulary!
But would the original audiophile with his preference for a 'neutral presentation' ever sit in front of a violinist and say something like, "please play me something with a neutral presentation". I think maybe the violinist would shake her head and laugh. WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN???
You dont get a "neutral presentation" from the violinist. You dont get something "warm and musical" from the violinist. You get a violin playing. You get the truth! So any audiophile that speaks in such a language of "golden glows" and "brittle highs" is either
a) imitating his buddies
b) imitating what he reads in magazines and audiophile review websites
c) still training his ears and doesnt know any better
d) legitimately knows why a system sounds wrong and has the proper vocabulary to describe it
It either sounds like the truth or not.
Now, one thing very few (if any?) systems will ever achieve is being able to play at the sound pressure level of louder unamplified instruments (think trombones, etc) . Nor will any system (ever?) be able to accurately replicate the sound of a full orchestra. However, there have been a few people that have tried over the decades, but we'll leave those endeavors out of this conversation for the moment.
When you put a system together, your first requirement should be that you can sit back and enjoy it (another top requirement should be whether you can afford it or not - please use common sense and dont go into debt for these things). Your next priority should be that it sounds relatively convincing from a tonal perspective. And perhaps a few final considerations should be how it looks, and how easy it is to operate.
A lot of audiophile will read that prior paragraph and be saying, "geez - why is he not talking about the room that the gear will be playing in", as one of the top priorities. I have not left that out. It is actually bundled into the first priority of "that you can sit back and enjoy it". If the speakers are too big for the room, then you wont enjoy it (crazy low end energy will dominate the listening sessions). If you have a small room and multi-driver speakers that you have to sit close to, then their respective sounds will not have a chance to integrate before they hit your ears. The scenarios go on and on with the wrong-system-for-the-room. Bottom line, if you have chosen gear for the room poorly, you will not enjoy the system.
Personally, after having a bad experience (and spending a criminal amount of money in the process to try and fix the problems) with room issues due to big speakers in a small room, I err on the side of smaller speakers for a rooms now. I'd rather come up shy in low frequencies than have them overpower and muddy everything else....but I have not had that problem for years. Anyway, my point is that "enjoying the system" means not having screwed up the system / room interplay.
So assuming that you've met the requirements of a system that you can enjoy, and that is sounds relatively convincing from a tonal perspective, now you can begin to tinker with it.
Saturday, October 17, 2015
They were ALL amazing
Like most half-assed bloggers on the internet, I take a break from time to time, this being more of a passing fancy and exercise in vanity than an actual way to put food on the table. So you'll have to indulge my artistic ebbs and flows while simultaneously contemplating my erratic approach to churning out magnificent content.
Now, with all of that out of the way, lets get down to brass tacks!
Back in late August I was in a 3-way email correspondence with 2 of my greatest GD resources, eVop and Gumball. I had read an interview / article with the famous deadhead, Bill Walton and felt that it was uplifting and not embarrassing, so I passed it along to those two. eVop immediately seized upon how irritating it was during the 2015 Fare Thee Well 'reunion' shows how the camera focused on Walton so much (and then eVop absolutely started frothing at the mouth, raging about how they would also focus on David Gans too).
Gumball, who really likes Bill Walton and appreciates his place in GD history, said that he liked the article but also said that he laughs a lot at Walton's take on GD because he inevitably seems to conclude that every show ever played was 'amazing'. But then Gumball, always the positive yin to eVop's negative yang, finished his email with, "but like you said the other day, they were all amazing". I said that? Really? Yeah - I guess I did. Hmmmm.....well, that is because it is true.
But let me contextualize that statement. I recently got into one of those futile conversations with my Father where he started explaining something to me that I could not even begin to refute because, in my mind, it almost did not even deserve a response. Long story short, he was putting on his Rolling Stones / Keith Richards apologist hat, telling me that Keith's recent shit-talking on Jerry had some actual credibility behind it. I could not believe what I was hearing. After all, ANY musician worth their salt would never ever compare Keith's skill with a guitar to Jerry's skill with a guitar. I dont even think that is a conversation. Furthermore, dear old Dad's explanation of Keith's skill as a guitarist went even further out on a limb when trying to describe how great his solos are...during some mysterious as-yet-unspecified special moments. That is where I, being the polite son, pulled up stakes and changed the subject.
This whole Keith / Jerry thing is NOT the point of this article, but it is merely an interesting aside. Here is my quick summary of it: Keith is fantastic (one of the best ever?) at writing classic 3-minute rock songs. But make no mistake, every significant guitar solo anybody has ever heard on a Rolling Stones record was either performed by Brian Jones, Mick Taylor, or Ron Wood. As a 'guitar player', Keith is not fit to carry Jerry's guitar case. End of that particular discussion.
But I do want to expand how this then relates to 'all of them being amazing'. 99% of all rock 'n roll shows, tours, and/or big productions are canned. Thats right. These concerts are carefully planned, rehearsed, staged and executed in accordance with a very specific formula that all the players (sound engineers, crew, lighting people, musicians, promoters, etc) are in on. You have as much variety and spontaneity in the latest Rolling Stones, AC / DC, Rush, U2, or Taylor Swift show as you do in the local schoolhouse production of 'Annie'.
People often ask me how I could switch back and forth so abruptly from being a hardcore deadhead to being into punk rock, and to me the answer is simple: Both of the live experiences are so anti-authoritarian in nature that trying to choreograph or plan any bullshit like a set list or how long the song has to be is a fool's errand. Furthermore, the crowd is on it. The real audience does not need (nor do they necessarily want) back-up dancers, pyrotechnics, a spinning stage, or any of those other decoys.
Lots of people went to see the Dead for the drugs. Lots of punk rockers go to any damn show because it is their 'tribe' and so they feel compelled go to every show because they have no other place to go. But the hardcore fanatics, the faithful, they go for no other reason than it is home. That real connection between band and fans, where there is no pageantry or peacockery, can only be established when you feel like yourself (even that clumsy and ugly side which we all have) while simultaneously realizing that this 'event' is a real ceremony where you can be who you are and then let the energy of that space take over and guide your movement.
Sorry, but a bunch of frat-boys with their arms over each other shoulders singing along to one another during the big hit misses the point completely. You'll see that at the Rolling Stones or AC/DC concert all night long, throughout the arena. However, at a GD or punk rock show it is a rare occurrence. The celebration and dance is shared, for sure, but it is profoundly individual in how it goes down. The music is so damned sacred that nobody bothers talking to each other while it is happening, much less tries to sing it into their buddy's ear.
My point is that in that respect, all GD shows were amazing because by the early 70s they were playing to 5000+ member audiences and still playing with that unpredictable energy to their audiences who 'got it'. Because as we all know, the big rock-concert industry business demands that you and your band swear fealty to the formula by having some canons fire while your lead singer dances all over the arena. Furthermore, you must swear with hand over heart that your good looking lead singer will extend a phony choreographed sentiment "Goodnight [fill in the city], we love you!" that is delivered at precisely the right moment between, behind, or during a very specifically selected song. And when you do all that, as if on cue, a sheep-like audience will cheer and buy beer (as well as merchandise) in blind obedience.
Any time that does not happen...it is amazing. So even when the GD were sucking, at least the show (and audience) was never like a Rolling Stones or Madonna concert. In that respect the GD were the best only because everybody else on gigantic tours was a cardboard cut-out of what rock 'n roll is supposed to be, and the fans who attended those other concerts had dutifully sworn their corporate rock allegiance oath before entering. But when the GD were on, and when all the deadheads were there and tuned-in, it was the best for a whole host of other reasons. Musical reasons. I'll back that up with some data in a subsequent article.
Now, with all of that out of the way, lets get down to brass tacks!
Back in late August I was in a 3-way email correspondence with 2 of my greatest GD resources, eVop and Gumball. I had read an interview / article with the famous deadhead, Bill Walton and felt that it was uplifting and not embarrassing, so I passed it along to those two. eVop immediately seized upon how irritating it was during the 2015 Fare Thee Well 'reunion' shows how the camera focused on Walton so much (and then eVop absolutely started frothing at the mouth, raging about how they would also focus on David Gans too).
Gumball, who really likes Bill Walton and appreciates his place in GD history, said that he liked the article but also said that he laughs a lot at Walton's take on GD because he inevitably seems to conclude that every show ever played was 'amazing'. But then Gumball, always the positive yin to eVop's negative yang, finished his email with, "but like you said the other day, they were all amazing". I said that? Really? Yeah - I guess I did. Hmmmm.....well, that is because it is true.
But let me contextualize that statement. I recently got into one of those futile conversations with my Father where he started explaining something to me that I could not even begin to refute because, in my mind, it almost did not even deserve a response. Long story short, he was putting on his Rolling Stones / Keith Richards apologist hat, telling me that Keith's recent shit-talking on Jerry had some actual credibility behind it. I could not believe what I was hearing. After all, ANY musician worth their salt would never ever compare Keith's skill with a guitar to Jerry's skill with a guitar. I dont even think that is a conversation. Furthermore, dear old Dad's explanation of Keith's skill as a guitarist went even further out on a limb when trying to describe how great his solos are...during some mysterious as-yet-unspecified special moments. That is where I, being the polite son, pulled up stakes and changed the subject.
This whole Keith / Jerry thing is NOT the point of this article, but it is merely an interesting aside. Here is my quick summary of it: Keith is fantastic (one of the best ever?) at writing classic 3-minute rock songs. But make no mistake, every significant guitar solo anybody has ever heard on a Rolling Stones record was either performed by Brian Jones, Mick Taylor, or Ron Wood. As a 'guitar player', Keith is not fit to carry Jerry's guitar case. End of that particular discussion.
But I do want to expand how this then relates to 'all of them being amazing'. 99% of all rock 'n roll shows, tours, and/or big productions are canned. Thats right. These concerts are carefully planned, rehearsed, staged and executed in accordance with a very specific formula that all the players (sound engineers, crew, lighting people, musicians, promoters, etc) are in on. You have as much variety and spontaneity in the latest Rolling Stones, AC / DC, Rush, U2, or Taylor Swift show as you do in the local schoolhouse production of 'Annie'.
People often ask me how I could switch back and forth so abruptly from being a hardcore deadhead to being into punk rock, and to me the answer is simple: Both of the live experiences are so anti-authoritarian in nature that trying to choreograph or plan any bullshit like a set list or how long the song has to be is a fool's errand. Furthermore, the crowd is on it. The real audience does not need (nor do they necessarily want) back-up dancers, pyrotechnics, a spinning stage, or any of those other decoys.
Lots of people went to see the Dead for the drugs. Lots of punk rockers go to any damn show because it is their 'tribe' and so they feel compelled go to every show because they have no other place to go. But the hardcore fanatics, the faithful, they go for no other reason than it is home. That real connection between band and fans, where there is no pageantry or peacockery, can only be established when you feel like yourself (even that clumsy and ugly side which we all have) while simultaneously realizing that this 'event' is a real ceremony where you can be who you are and then let the energy of that space take over and guide your movement.
Sorry, but a bunch of frat-boys with their arms over each other shoulders singing along to one another during the big hit misses the point completely. You'll see that at the Rolling Stones or AC/DC concert all night long, throughout the arena. However, at a GD or punk rock show it is a rare occurrence. The celebration and dance is shared, for sure, but it is profoundly individual in how it goes down. The music is so damned sacred that nobody bothers talking to each other while it is happening, much less tries to sing it into their buddy's ear.
My point is that in that respect, all GD shows were amazing because by the early 70s they were playing to 5000+ member audiences and still playing with that unpredictable energy to their audiences who 'got it'. Because as we all know, the big rock-concert industry business demands that you and your band swear fealty to the formula by having some canons fire while your lead singer dances all over the arena. Furthermore, you must swear with hand over heart that your good looking lead singer will extend a phony choreographed sentiment "Goodnight [fill in the city], we love you!" that is delivered at precisely the right moment between, behind, or during a very specifically selected song. And when you do all that, as if on cue, a sheep-like audience will cheer and buy beer (as well as merchandise) in blind obedience.
Any time that does not happen...it is amazing. So even when the GD were sucking, at least the show (and audience) was never like a Rolling Stones or Madonna concert. In that respect the GD were the best only because everybody else on gigantic tours was a cardboard cut-out of what rock 'n roll is supposed to be, and the fans who attended those other concerts had dutifully sworn their corporate rock allegiance oath before entering. But when the GD were on, and when all the deadheads were there and tuned-in, it was the best for a whole host of other reasons. Musical reasons. I'll back that up with some data in a subsequent article.
Friday, August 21, 2015
The Midnight Audiophile: Chapter 2
Not unlike the designs of particular firearms, older modes of transportation (cars, motorcycles, bicycles, boats, planes, etc), Unix / Linux, unprocessed food, or 'stacking systems' ala permaculture on your land, I've found that the least complex designs tend to offer the most visceral experience(s). Music playback systems are no exceptions. In fact, I've found that almost without exception, the most simple playback chain will bring you closer to the music than you've ever been. Sadly, the systems that embody this type of 'playback chain' are elusive. One oftentimes has to dabble in the underbelly of the audiophile hobby in order to achieve this simplicity.
Without getting too far out there, the philosophic principle of 'Occam's razor' states that all things being equal, the most simple solution is the best solution. In a flourish of post-modern irony, I've probably over-simplified 'Occam's razor', so please indulge me for the moment. Now of course we have extreme deviations on either side of the razor; imagine trying to get into space using the most 'simple solution', or trying to manage type 1 diabetes in the most simple manner. Both of these things involve a tremendous amount of science in order to get to the stated goal, so we'll just have to take it on faith (or, better yet, in stride) that perhaps someday we'll be achieving these goals with simplicity. BTW - easy and simple are not the same. 2 + 2 = 4 is easy for all of us to state and understand, but to somebody that has never learned the concept of addition, it is not simple to articulate or form a picture in their mind on their own without at least *some* direction or instruction.
My simple music playback system has a turntable (with a tonearm and a stylus), a phono stage (with the necessary RIAA equalization curve), amplification with very low 'voltage gain', and single driver speakers with no crossovers. It is connected together by cables with low capacitance and it requires electricity. Simple? Easy? You be the judge. But in fact, when you compare this system to anything you'd pull off the shelf at Best Buy (receiver, speakers, etc), you'd see that there were way more wires and chips in the Best Buy stuff. The designs of those components fly in the face of Occam's Razor.
BTW - an aside - I dont mean to throw Best Buy under the bus here. They are just an easy target, and only guilty of being the carrier of mid-fi and low-fi consumer electronics. Their gear masquerades as the 'latest and greatest', and by extension, 'the best'; but I am here to testify that components sold at Best Buy are not the best, and that the components themselves are their own worst enemy due to their complexity. Best Buy is not at fault. The only culpability they have is in choosing to carry shitty sounding gear. But there is nothing wrong with that. It being a mostly free country with a mostly free market, after all.
Anyway, back to my simple system. I'm not the guy that invented this audiophile philosophy. There probably is no one guy (or gal) that is responsible for inventing this audiophile philosophy. Though I'd like to tip my hat in the direction of Arthur Salvatore, Harvey Rosenberg, Nelson Pass, Art Dudley as well as more than a few others. Indeed, I've had a wide array of influences when it comes to choosing my path of least audiophile resistance, not the least of which has been listening to a lot of music through a lot of different gear (at my own expense) in my own home. Listening late at night tends to be my style. The sun is down, everybody is asleep, and the electricity is cleaner. Late night listening tends to require lower listening levels, which is the primal test for how well a system plays music.
The second most important test is determining how palpable the music is in your room. Do voices sound like voices? Do bass notes feel like bass notes (even softly and gently played ones)? Can you sense the air around the instruments? Can you pick up on the reverberations of the woodwinds or be startled by the brass? Are the 4 beats in a measure easy for you to find? Answering in the affirmative for all of these things when your system is playing at low volume means that it can produce palpable sound. The sensation is that you cant quite touch the sound...but there is that strange sensation that you might just barely be able to...and it is just out of reach...but, whoa, there is *something* there. To wax poetic for a moment: "Strange fingers of light | Float in air" - Robert Hunter
But there are some who can claim all of the above when their system is at a high volume. Yes! Congratulations to those folks. But lets push it a little harder. Can you get it with really low volume? Be honest with yourself. Hell, get a 2nd opinion. It is likely that even if you have it at high volumes, you probably do not have it at low volumes. Dont feel bad. It took me years and cost countless thousands of dollars screwing around in order to achieve this playback state. Here is the guaranteed way to get it, starting with where the signal originates:
MC Cartridge with very low mV output
Belt drive or idler-drive turntable
Phono stage w/low gain
Optional: volume control - CAUTION - this is only optional if you know what you're doing
Amplifier w/ low voltage gain
Speakers w/ no crossover
A word about the whole 'optional' part above. Having something (anything!) between your phono stage and amplifier does stand in the way of your signal purity. But for 99.99% of the kooky audiophile population (that is 999 out of 1000 weird audiophiles), that notion is still considered insane, even by their bizarre standards. Imagine having no remote control, no 'source' selector switch, no mute switch, and no volume control. You 'drop the needle' and music plays. But just that statement has you literally swan-diving off of a cliff. Imagine if somebody were to 'drop the needle' not on the record. KABOOM. Imagine if you had an amplifier with high voltage gain. KABOOM. Imagine if the mV of your cartridge is high. KABOOM. Imagine if the gain stage in your phono stage is high. KABOOM. Imagine if your speakers are *too* sensitive. KABOOM.
I cant think of an easier way of blowing up your speakers, scaring the hell out of your cats, or pissing off whoever you live with than by improperly experimenting with the above. But imagine what awaits. The whole unattainable concept of 'straight wire with gain' is finally within your grasp. Oh the simplicity and the purity. Brother Occam would be so proud! Do you have the guts to do this? Or perhaps more specifically, can you even be bothered?
This type of audiophile is perhaps made, but I'm more inclined to believe that we are chosen. You must not turn away from the quest if you seek the grail. Fear not, for I have instructions.
Without getting too far out there, the philosophic principle of 'Occam's razor' states that all things being equal, the most simple solution is the best solution. In a flourish of post-modern irony, I've probably over-simplified 'Occam's razor', so please indulge me for the moment. Now of course we have extreme deviations on either side of the razor; imagine trying to get into space using the most 'simple solution', or trying to manage type 1 diabetes in the most simple manner. Both of these things involve a tremendous amount of science in order to get to the stated goal, so we'll just have to take it on faith (or, better yet, in stride) that perhaps someday we'll be achieving these goals with simplicity. BTW - easy and simple are not the same. 2 + 2 = 4 is easy for all of us to state and understand, but to somebody that has never learned the concept of addition, it is not simple to articulate or form a picture in their mind on their own without at least *some* direction or instruction.
My simple music playback system has a turntable (with a tonearm and a stylus), a phono stage (with the necessary RIAA equalization curve), amplification with very low 'voltage gain', and single driver speakers with no crossovers. It is connected together by cables with low capacitance and it requires electricity. Simple? Easy? You be the judge. But in fact, when you compare this system to anything you'd pull off the shelf at Best Buy (receiver, speakers, etc), you'd see that there were way more wires and chips in the Best Buy stuff. The designs of those components fly in the face of Occam's Razor.
BTW - an aside - I dont mean to throw Best Buy under the bus here. They are just an easy target, and only guilty of being the carrier of mid-fi and low-fi consumer electronics. Their gear masquerades as the 'latest and greatest', and by extension, 'the best'; but I am here to testify that components sold at Best Buy are not the best, and that the components themselves are their own worst enemy due to their complexity. Best Buy is not at fault. The only culpability they have is in choosing to carry shitty sounding gear. But there is nothing wrong with that. It being a mostly free country with a mostly free market, after all.
Anyway, back to my simple system. I'm not the guy that invented this audiophile philosophy. There probably is no one guy (or gal) that is responsible for inventing this audiophile philosophy. Though I'd like to tip my hat in the direction of Arthur Salvatore, Harvey Rosenberg, Nelson Pass, Art Dudley as well as more than a few others. Indeed, I've had a wide array of influences when it comes to choosing my path of least audiophile resistance, not the least of which has been listening to a lot of music through a lot of different gear (at my own expense) in my own home. Listening late at night tends to be my style. The sun is down, everybody is asleep, and the electricity is cleaner. Late night listening tends to require lower listening levels, which is the primal test for how well a system plays music.
The second most important test is determining how palpable the music is in your room. Do voices sound like voices? Do bass notes feel like bass notes (even softly and gently played ones)? Can you sense the air around the instruments? Can you pick up on the reverberations of the woodwinds or be startled by the brass? Are the 4 beats in a measure easy for you to find? Answering in the affirmative for all of these things when your system is playing at low volume means that it can produce palpable sound. The sensation is that you cant quite touch the sound...but there is that strange sensation that you might just barely be able to...and it is just out of reach...but, whoa, there is *something* there. To wax poetic for a moment: "Strange fingers of light | Float in air" - Robert Hunter
But there are some who can claim all of the above when their system is at a high volume. Yes! Congratulations to those folks. But lets push it a little harder. Can you get it with really low volume? Be honest with yourself. Hell, get a 2nd opinion. It is likely that even if you have it at high volumes, you probably do not have it at low volumes. Dont feel bad. It took me years and cost countless thousands of dollars screwing around in order to achieve this playback state. Here is the guaranteed way to get it, starting with where the signal originates:
MC Cartridge with very low mV output
Belt drive or idler-drive turntable
Phono stage w/low gain
Optional: volume control - CAUTION - this is only optional if you know what you're doing
Amplifier w/ low voltage gain
Speakers w/ no crossover
A word about the whole 'optional' part above. Having something (anything!) between your phono stage and amplifier does stand in the way of your signal purity. But for 99.99% of the kooky audiophile population (that is 999 out of 1000 weird audiophiles), that notion is still considered insane, even by their bizarre standards. Imagine having no remote control, no 'source' selector switch, no mute switch, and no volume control. You 'drop the needle' and music plays. But just that statement has you literally swan-diving off of a cliff. Imagine if somebody were to 'drop the needle' not on the record. KABOOM. Imagine if you had an amplifier with high voltage gain. KABOOM. Imagine if the mV of your cartridge is high. KABOOM. Imagine if the gain stage in your phono stage is high. KABOOM. Imagine if your speakers are *too* sensitive. KABOOM.
I cant think of an easier way of blowing up your speakers, scaring the hell out of your cats, or pissing off whoever you live with than by improperly experimenting with the above. But imagine what awaits. The whole unattainable concept of 'straight wire with gain' is finally within your grasp. Oh the simplicity and the purity. Brother Occam would be so proud! Do you have the guts to do this? Or perhaps more specifically, can you even be bothered?
This type of audiophile is perhaps made, but I'm more inclined to believe that we are chosen. You must not turn away from the quest if you seek the grail. Fear not, for I have instructions.
Saturday, August 8, 2015
The Midnight Audiophile: Chapter 1
Bose sucks.
Here are brands I endorse (that people will not find absurdly expensive) which, in my experience, dont put out products that sound wrong.
Components:
Rotel (British)
Marantz (American)
Rega (British)
Creek (Canadian)
Quicksilver (American)
Speakers:
Spendor (British)
Sonus Faber (Italian)
NOLA (American)
Zu (American)
...actually the list of products I'll endorse over the ones you'll find in Best Buy, Magnoila Hi-Fi, etc, is almost endless. I realize that not everybody wants to try and shop at a place other than the big-box stores that offer brand names that you are familiar with, but if everybody reading this blog is so "out of step", then why are you so "in step" when it comes to buying audio gear?
Almost all the companies I listed supply products that are designed, engineered, sourced, manufactured, and assembled without the use of RED china (though there are some exceptions). But if that is not reason enough for you flag-waving types, then why not find another reason? Try listening to these brands. As a matter of fact, the salespeople at the audio shops that carry these brands will encourage you to bring in your own music so that you can get an idea of how it will sound coming through something you might purchase. They want you to sit down and listen.
I dont proselytize beyond a few selective subjects, but I do have amazingly high expectations and standards when it comes to certain things (audio components and tattoos come to mind) so I'll just lay this little diddy on you:
Independent audio salons are truly a music lovers dream. They offer lots of product, in many different configurations, for many different budgets. A lot of them have moved into home theater in order to stay even remotely competitive. A lot of these audio salons could care less about the "big box stores", because it is really the network of hobbyists that keep them in business, but they do want your business. So if you wander into a store that has a $5000 CD player playing through a $35,000 pair of speakers, do not feel intimidated. That gear is for the hobbyist with an insatiable hunger and the wallet to match. There is more within the audio salon that is probably right up your financial alley (and will more than exceed your needs).
Many audio salon shopkeepers realize that most people out there are just average jack and jills who want an audio system that works...and sounds good. The average jack and jill does not want to drop a mint either. That is why the audio salons carry brands to accommodate the average citizen that wanders inside. Sometimes, the average citizen comes back into the shop as an audiophile hobbyist (it happened to me).
So if there is a store near you, which there probably is, that carries a lot of brands you have never heard of, I would advocate that you at least poke your head in there before your next purchase of "electronics" from a big-box store. These audio salons are in the phonebook or just a google search away. Why not at least see what they have to offer?
Here are brands I endorse (that people will not find absurdly expensive) which, in my experience, dont put out products that sound wrong.
Components:
Rotel (British)
Marantz (American)
Rega (British)
Creek (Canadian)
Quicksilver (American)
Speakers:
Spendor (British)
Sonus Faber (Italian)
NOLA (American)
Zu (American)
...actually the list of products I'll endorse over the ones you'll find in Best Buy, Magnoila Hi-Fi, etc, is almost endless. I realize that not everybody wants to try and shop at a place other than the big-box stores that offer brand names that you are familiar with, but if everybody reading this blog is so "out of step", then why are you so "in step" when it comes to buying audio gear?
Almost all the companies I listed supply products that are designed, engineered, sourced, manufactured, and assembled without the use of RED china (though there are some exceptions). But if that is not reason enough for you flag-waving types, then why not find another reason? Try listening to these brands. As a matter of fact, the salespeople at the audio shops that carry these brands will encourage you to bring in your own music so that you can get an idea of how it will sound coming through something you might purchase. They want you to sit down and listen.
I dont proselytize beyond a few selective subjects, but I do have amazingly high expectations and standards when it comes to certain things (audio components and tattoos come to mind) so I'll just lay this little diddy on you:
Independent audio salons are truly a music lovers dream. They offer lots of product, in many different configurations, for many different budgets. A lot of them have moved into home theater in order to stay even remotely competitive. A lot of these audio salons could care less about the "big box stores", because it is really the network of hobbyists that keep them in business, but they do want your business. So if you wander into a store that has a $5000 CD player playing through a $35,000 pair of speakers, do not feel intimidated. That gear is for the hobbyist with an insatiable hunger and the wallet to match. There is more within the audio salon that is probably right up your financial alley (and will more than exceed your needs).
Many audio salon shopkeepers realize that most people out there are just average jack and jills who want an audio system that works...and sounds good. The average jack and jill does not want to drop a mint either. That is why the audio salons carry brands to accommodate the average citizen that wanders inside. Sometimes, the average citizen comes back into the shop as an audiophile hobbyist (it happened to me).
So if there is a store near you, which there probably is, that carries a lot of brands you have never heard of, I would advocate that you at least poke your head in there before your next purchase of "electronics" from a big-box store. These audio salons are in the phonebook or just a google search away. Why not at least see what they have to offer?
Our final years with the Grateful Dead: Chapter 5
Nobody likes belaboring a point more than deadheads, so I'll continue to address the 'compromised songbook' of 92-95 in the following article.
Really, I had wanted to put this subject to rest because I continue to stand firm on my position concerning the question of whether the show was hot or not due to the 'sacred set list' for that evening. My belief is that the show's level of quality should not be held hostage by the black-or-white factor of whether they played a new song (or three) that any one deadhead did not like.
Without apologies, I'll say that anybody who dismisses a show exclusively due to it having Vince playing keyboards, Donna singing, or because a particular song (or three) was performed is a fucking idiot! Yes, that is how strongly I feel about this brand of criticism which I continually encounter on the internet. It literally reminds me of people who say that they 'hate [fill in the city] because they gave me a parking ticket'. Get over yourself!
But one of my best sources for GD conversation fodder, EVOp, threw down the gauntlet with my approach to the 'compromised songbook'. The following paragraphs were in an email that I received from him. In some places I have made slight edits and/or paraphrased:
***
I'm not sure you get that in your explanation you pretty much said every time they go into a new song you could see the wind completely come out of the sails.. So I absolutely 1000% understand your take. But I also think that you're splitting hairs with the semantics.
In other words, by bringing up Karina or Easy Answers, there is somehow the implication that the show suddenly is not hot anymore, or that it probably will not regain any traction, or that it is more or less a throwaway. I think a better experiment might be to find some shows from 1992 through 1995 that do not have all the new songs in them or at least a combination of the new songs, but also would be noted as a crappy show?
I think that 3/8/92 would be an absolutely fantastic example to refute naysayers of shows that had new songs. I'm in love with the first set and I stand by that statement. I wonder who else is going to agree with me. Probably nobody, but that is their loss.
However the second set, after drums, is majestic. It is like they came out to open the second set and they were determined to play the new songs whether it was going to be hot or not, and frankly, I was megadosed at the show and I thought it was fucking awesome! But now we look at the setlist and the entire pre-drums is basically new songs so this show will go down in history as a throwaway despite one of the most ripping 'All Along the Watchtowers' you're ever going to hear, despite the fact that the 'Throwing Stone's is one of my top five of all time, and despite the fact that I'll put the first set up against any set from the 80s...easily.
And it also bears mentioning that those new songs in spring of 1992...well, nobody was sick of them yet. And it was kind of refreshing because we hadn't had a batch of new songs since 1989 or something like that (Foolish heart, Just a Little Light, Built to Last, etc). So by spring of 1992 we were not sick of these songs yet! Of course, Wave to the Wind turned out to be a prime conversation-piece for the worst Grateful Dead song ever. And, well, Long Way to Go Home also got brought into the conversation for worst Grateful Dead song ever too.
Yet those two songs were played in that 3/8/92 pre-drum segment, and they were new, and they were fresh, and it was fantastic to actually hear a new Phil Lesh song. 'Wave to the Wind' is certainly a musically sophisticated song (kind of like 'Unbroken Chain') when you look at the arrangement. I mean the arrangement was definitely the reason they stopped playing it. It is hard to play! We all know Phil has no problem beating songs into the curb. Obviously, he didn't think Jerry had the chops to follow along, so he wasn't going to play his song anymore.
To me, 'Long Way to Go Home' was like a statement that Bruce had just left the band (or was considering leaving), and that Vince was going to stand on his own two feet and start contributing. Now we were going to have a good rock band without two keyboardists and two drummers! It was already a jamboree with way too many artists on stage. This was the turning point where I thought, 'OK - Vince has some material of his own and Bruce is going to go touring away from the Dead.'
So I hope you could move that March 8 1992 forward into your listening rotation. I know you're backlogged on your listening, but if you could put that show in there and move it up, we could have a serious conversation about that show. I consider it an all-timer for that era. But the set list, back to your original point, really isn't all that much. Although the first set (if you look at it song for song) is actually pretty good, but the second set you would probably just turn the page.
***
Wow! Quite a lot to address here. Thank you to EVOp for a pretty extensive (and credible) take. I will move 3/8/92 forward in the rotation. Working through the two 'A Day on the Green' shows from October of 1976 at the moment (Dick's Pick #33), but I will re-prioritize.
For those of you who continue to believe that 'new songs' ruin a show, I give you this list to work though. These are the shows played during 1992-1995 that have NONE of the new original songs. So there is no version of Liberty, So Many Roads, Lazy River Road, Days Between, Easy Answers, Corinna, Eternity, Long Way to Go Home, Samba in the Rain, Wave to the Wind, If the Shoe Fits, or Childhood's End at any of the following shows:
3/2/92
3/20/92
5/20/92
5/21/92
5/23/92
5/25/92
5/29/92
6/6/92
6/11/92
6/18/92
6/22/92
7/1/92
12/5/92
12/6/92
12/12/92
12/16/92
1/24/93
1/26/93
3/24/93
5/16/93
6/15/93
12/12/93
3/4/94
4/1/94
9/29/94
10/13/94
12-18-94
3-18-95
7-2-95
Part of me wants to say, 'choke on them', but instead I'll just ask a favor. If you listen to these shows and find that one or more of them is really awesome...or extremely crummy, please let me know. I'd like to hear your thoughts. BTW - a great number of these shows do have the new cover songs like 'I Fought the Law', 'Baba O' Riley', 'Broken Arrow', etc. We're leaving the new cover songs out of this particular facet of the conversation for now. Happy Trails!
Really, I had wanted to put this subject to rest because I continue to stand firm on my position concerning the question of whether the show was hot or not due to the 'sacred set list' for that evening. My belief is that the show's level of quality should not be held hostage by the black-or-white factor of whether they played a new song (or three) that any one deadhead did not like.
Without apologies, I'll say that anybody who dismisses a show exclusively due to it having Vince playing keyboards, Donna singing, or because a particular song (or three) was performed is a fucking idiot! Yes, that is how strongly I feel about this brand of criticism which I continually encounter on the internet. It literally reminds me of people who say that they 'hate [fill in the city] because they gave me a parking ticket'. Get over yourself!
But one of my best sources for GD conversation fodder, EVOp, threw down the gauntlet with my approach to the 'compromised songbook'. The following paragraphs were in an email that I received from him. In some places I have made slight edits and/or paraphrased:
***
I'm not sure you get that in your explanation you pretty much said every time they go into a new song you could see the wind completely come out of the sails.. So I absolutely 1000% understand your take. But I also think that you're splitting hairs with the semantics.
In other words, by bringing up Karina or Easy Answers, there is somehow the implication that the show suddenly is not hot anymore, or that it probably will not regain any traction, or that it is more or less a throwaway. I think a better experiment might be to find some shows from 1992 through 1995 that do not have all the new songs in them or at least a combination of the new songs, but also would be noted as a crappy show?
I think that 3/8/92 would be an absolutely fantastic example to refute naysayers of shows that had new songs. I'm in love with the first set and I stand by that statement. I wonder who else is going to agree with me. Probably nobody, but that is their loss.
However the second set, after drums, is majestic. It is like they came out to open the second set and they were determined to play the new songs whether it was going to be hot or not, and frankly, I was megadosed at the show and I thought it was fucking awesome! But now we look at the setlist and the entire pre-drums is basically new songs so this show will go down in history as a throwaway despite one of the most ripping 'All Along the Watchtowers' you're ever going to hear, despite the fact that the 'Throwing Stone's is one of my top five of all time, and despite the fact that I'll put the first set up against any set from the 80s...easily.
And it also bears mentioning that those new songs in spring of 1992...well, nobody was sick of them yet. And it was kind of refreshing because we hadn't had a batch of new songs since 1989 or something like that (Foolish heart, Just a Little Light, Built to Last, etc). So by spring of 1992 we were not sick of these songs yet! Of course, Wave to the Wind turned out to be a prime conversation-piece for the worst Grateful Dead song ever. And, well, Long Way to Go Home also got brought into the conversation for worst Grateful Dead song ever too.
Yet those two songs were played in that 3/8/92 pre-drum segment, and they were new, and they were fresh, and it was fantastic to actually hear a new Phil Lesh song. 'Wave to the Wind' is certainly a musically sophisticated song (kind of like 'Unbroken Chain') when you look at the arrangement. I mean the arrangement was definitely the reason they stopped playing it. It is hard to play! We all know Phil has no problem beating songs into the curb. Obviously, he didn't think Jerry had the chops to follow along, so he wasn't going to play his song anymore.
To me, 'Long Way to Go Home' was like a statement that Bruce had just left the band (or was considering leaving), and that Vince was going to stand on his own two feet and start contributing. Now we were going to have a good rock band without two keyboardists and two drummers! It was already a jamboree with way too many artists on stage. This was the turning point where I thought, 'OK - Vince has some material of his own and Bruce is going to go touring away from the Dead.'
So I hope you could move that March 8 1992 forward into your listening rotation. I know you're backlogged on your listening, but if you could put that show in there and move it up, we could have a serious conversation about that show. I consider it an all-timer for that era. But the set list, back to your original point, really isn't all that much. Although the first set (if you look at it song for song) is actually pretty good, but the second set you would probably just turn the page.
***
Wow! Quite a lot to address here. Thank you to EVOp for a pretty extensive (and credible) take. I will move 3/8/92 forward in the rotation. Working through the two 'A Day on the Green' shows from October of 1976 at the moment (Dick's Pick #33), but I will re-prioritize.
For those of you who continue to believe that 'new songs' ruin a show, I give you this list to work though. These are the shows played during 1992-1995 that have NONE of the new original songs. So there is no version of Liberty, So Many Roads, Lazy River Road, Days Between, Easy Answers, Corinna, Eternity, Long Way to Go Home, Samba in the Rain, Wave to the Wind, If the Shoe Fits, or Childhood's End at any of the following shows:
3/2/92
3/20/92
5/20/92
5/21/92
5/23/92
5/25/92
5/29/92
6/6/92
6/11/92
6/18/92
6/22/92
7/1/92
12/5/92
12/6/92
12/12/92
12/16/92
1/24/93
1/26/93
3/24/93
5/16/93
6/15/93
12/12/93
3/4/94
4/1/94
9/29/94
10/13/94
12-18-94
3-18-95
7-2-95
Part of me wants to say, 'choke on them', but instead I'll just ask a favor. If you listen to these shows and find that one or more of them is really awesome...or extremely crummy, please let me know. I'd like to hear your thoughts. BTW - a great number of these shows do have the new cover songs like 'I Fought the Law', 'Baba O' Riley', 'Broken Arrow', etc. We're leaving the new cover songs out of this particular facet of the conversation for now. Happy Trails!
Friday, August 7, 2015
Our final years with the Grateful Dead: Chapter 4
In my previous chapter I started to address the perceived 'compromised songbook' during the final years that the Grateful Dead were playing. I confronted the issue by stating that there were 39 songs added during those years, rather than talking about the songs that were left behind.
What I'd like to do now is address this idea of a 'compromised songbook' during the years 1992-1995 (268 shows) through a very specific lens. To wit, I'd like to look at it from the perspective of "sins of omission, rather than sins of commission".
My primary inspiration for looking at the songbook from this perspective is due to me reflecting back on some of the feelings I was having about the band while seeing so many shows during 92-95. At the time, I was continually flummoxed by how the band never seemed to play a few songs that I previously took for granted. Sure, I knew that I was extremely lucky if I caught 'Dire Wolf', 'High Time', or even 'Cumberland Blues', but given that I was seeing 30+ shows a year and still never catching a performance of 'They Love Each Other' was something that began to gnaw at me.
So without further ado, I'd like to list the rarest songs of 92-95 (268 shows) that we previously took for granted:
To Lay Me Down
It Must Have Been the Roses
Beat It On Down the Line
Goin Down the Road Feeling Bad
They Love Each Other
High Time
Big Railroad Blues
Dire Wolf
Cumberland Blues
Dupree's Diamond Blues
Might As Well
Comes a Time
Mama Tried
Black Muddy River
Notice how almost all of these are original Garcia / Hunter songs? Weir (and Barlow) were never as prolific as their counterparts, but I do find it odd that NONE of these are original Weir / Barlow songs. NOTE - there are four cover songs on this list (GDTRFB, Big RxR Blues, Mama Tried, and BIODTL) Anyway, lets get on with the analysis. During the years 1992-1995 (268 shows), the songbook suffered dwindling numbers of these once common songs:
Uncommon
Dire Wolf (played 13 times)
Beat It On Down The Line (played 11 times)
Cumberland Blues (played 11 times)
Mama Tried (played 10 times)
High Time (played 9 times)
Rare
It Must Have Been the Roses (played 8 times)
Goin Down the Road Feeling Bad (played 8 times)
They Love Each Other (played 6 times)
Extremely Rare
Big Railroad Blues (played 4 times)
Black Muddy River (played 3 times)
Comes a Time (played 2 times)
Dupree's Diamond Blues (played 2 times)
Consider yourself one of the lucky few
To Lay Me Down (played ONCE - Deer Creek 6/28/92)
Might As Well (played ONCE - Nassau 3/23/94)
Now, I know people are going to proclaim that the 3 performances of Supplication (2 of which were a 'Supplication jam') are missing from the list above, or that 4 performances of Casey Jones which were played during this era (3 times in 1992 and 1 time in 1993) should be on this list, but the point is that both Supplication and Casey Jones had not been common for a long time! You did not watch them go extinct before your very eyes during 92-95.
For example, Casey Jones had only been played twice in 1984 and twice in 1982 before the breakout at RFK Stadium in 1992. Supplication (whether just a 'jam' or a version that included the vocals) was gone by the early 1986. Whereas, during the 80s, you couldnt throw a rock without hitting a 'Black Muddy River', 'Might as Well', or 'They Love Each Other'.
My point with the list above is that we watched the light burn out on 14 wonderful songs that you used to be able to count on, while simultaneously having them replaced with 39 'new' songs.
Ok, so now is the idea of the 'compromised songbook' starting to make more sense? When you include the 'sins of omission' along with the 'sins of commission', it starts to add up to a wildly changing Grateful Dead. But make no mistake; I dont consider the fairly substantial ebbs and flows of the GD songbook during 92-95 an indicator of the band beginning to suck. Instead, I see it as a bellwether for a band that is riding off into the sunset with an expanded vocabulary. I'll leave it to the performances to tell me whether they are truly sucking or not.
Now let me share another way of looking at this idea of a changing GD songbook (oddly, it somehow manages to be both personal and objective):
The song 'Cold Rain and Snow' was one of the true-blue fixtures within the Grateful Dead songbook, along with 'Beat It On Down the Line' and 'Morning Dew'. You could count on seeing 'Cold Rain and Snow' year-in and year-out, on a fairly regular cadence (with the exceptions of 1974 when it was played only once, and in 1977 when it was played only twice). But when the GD were actively playing in their final years, Cold Rain and Snow was never considered one of my favorite songs. I liked it, I'd get into it, and I'd dance to it, but I didnt ADORE it. And why bother trying to fall in love with it? They played it all the time! I would be hoping for Shakedown Street or Hell in a Bucket to open the show, but instead they would play Mississippi 1/2 Step, Bertha, or Cold Rain and Snow.
However, after the GD were finished, I began to adore Cold Rain and Snow (wayyy more than I like Shakedown Street at the moment). I cant really explain why Cold Rain and Snow is now one of my favorites. Perhaps my experience is somewhat emblematic of how band members related to songs. So many GD songs are awesome, but I think it is possible over the course of decades for you to fall in and out of love with the songs in different ways (e.g. - fleeting affairs, long term relationships, transactional interactions, torrid exchanges, etc) . The way that the band changed their approach to songs throughout the years defies description!
I'll take an Eyes of the World from 1974 over 1984 fairly regularly, but I would NEVER EVER take a Jack Straw from 1973 over a Jack Straw from 1983. A band member's relationship with the songbook is something we will never understand, if only because we're still playing catch-up with our own relationship to the songbook as we gradually ride off into the sunset ourselves. Happy Trails!
What I'd like to do now is address this idea of a 'compromised songbook' during the years 1992-1995 (268 shows) through a very specific lens. To wit, I'd like to look at it from the perspective of "sins of omission, rather than sins of commission".
My primary inspiration for looking at the songbook from this perspective is due to me reflecting back on some of the feelings I was having about the band while seeing so many shows during 92-95. At the time, I was continually flummoxed by how the band never seemed to play a few songs that I previously took for granted. Sure, I knew that I was extremely lucky if I caught 'Dire Wolf', 'High Time', or even 'Cumberland Blues', but given that I was seeing 30+ shows a year and still never catching a performance of 'They Love Each Other' was something that began to gnaw at me.
So without further ado, I'd like to list the rarest songs of 92-95 (268 shows) that we previously took for granted:
To Lay Me Down
It Must Have Been the Roses
Beat It On Down the Line
Goin Down the Road Feeling Bad
They Love Each Other
High Time
Big Railroad Blues
Dire Wolf
Cumberland Blues
Dupree's Diamond Blues
Might As Well
Comes a Time
Mama Tried
Black Muddy River
Notice how almost all of these are original Garcia / Hunter songs? Weir (and Barlow) were never as prolific as their counterparts, but I do find it odd that NONE of these are original Weir / Barlow songs. NOTE - there are four cover songs on this list (GDTRFB, Big RxR Blues, Mama Tried, and BIODTL) Anyway, lets get on with the analysis. During the years 1992-1995 (268 shows), the songbook suffered dwindling numbers of these once common songs:
Uncommon
Dire Wolf (played 13 times)
Beat It On Down The Line (played 11 times)
Cumberland Blues (played 11 times)
Mama Tried (played 10 times)
High Time (played 9 times)
Rare
It Must Have Been the Roses (played 8 times)
Goin Down the Road Feeling Bad (played 8 times)
They Love Each Other (played 6 times)
Extremely Rare
Big Railroad Blues (played 4 times)
Black Muddy River (played 3 times)
Comes a Time (played 2 times)
Dupree's Diamond Blues (played 2 times)
Consider yourself one of the lucky few
To Lay Me Down (played ONCE - Deer Creek 6/28/92)
Might As Well (played ONCE - Nassau 3/23/94)
Now, I know people are going to proclaim that the 3 performances of Supplication (2 of which were a 'Supplication jam') are missing from the list above, or that 4 performances of Casey Jones which were played during this era (3 times in 1992 and 1 time in 1993) should be on this list, but the point is that both Supplication and Casey Jones had not been common for a long time! You did not watch them go extinct before your very eyes during 92-95.
For example, Casey Jones had only been played twice in 1984 and twice in 1982 before the breakout at RFK Stadium in 1992. Supplication (whether just a 'jam' or a version that included the vocals) was gone by the early 1986. Whereas, during the 80s, you couldnt throw a rock without hitting a 'Black Muddy River', 'Might as Well', or 'They Love Each Other'.
My point with the list above is that we watched the light burn out on 14 wonderful songs that you used to be able to count on, while simultaneously having them replaced with 39 'new' songs.
Ok, so now is the idea of the 'compromised songbook' starting to make more sense? When you include the 'sins of omission' along with the 'sins of commission', it starts to add up to a wildly changing Grateful Dead. But make no mistake; I dont consider the fairly substantial ebbs and flows of the GD songbook during 92-95 an indicator of the band beginning to suck. Instead, I see it as a bellwether for a band that is riding off into the sunset with an expanded vocabulary. I'll leave it to the performances to tell me whether they are truly sucking or not.
Now let me share another way of looking at this idea of a changing GD songbook (oddly, it somehow manages to be both personal and objective):
The song 'Cold Rain and Snow' was one of the true-blue fixtures within the Grateful Dead songbook, along with 'Beat It On Down the Line' and 'Morning Dew'. You could count on seeing 'Cold Rain and Snow' year-in and year-out, on a fairly regular cadence (with the exceptions of 1974 when it was played only once, and in 1977 when it was played only twice). But when the GD were actively playing in their final years, Cold Rain and Snow was never considered one of my favorite songs. I liked it, I'd get into it, and I'd dance to it, but I didnt ADORE it. And why bother trying to fall in love with it? They played it all the time! I would be hoping for Shakedown Street or Hell in a Bucket to open the show, but instead they would play Mississippi 1/2 Step, Bertha, or Cold Rain and Snow.
However, after the GD were finished, I began to adore Cold Rain and Snow (wayyy more than I like Shakedown Street at the moment). I cant really explain why Cold Rain and Snow is now one of my favorites. Perhaps my experience is somewhat emblematic of how band members related to songs. So many GD songs are awesome, but I think it is possible over the course of decades for you to fall in and out of love with the songs in different ways (e.g. - fleeting affairs, long term relationships, transactional interactions, torrid exchanges, etc) . The way that the band changed their approach to songs throughout the years defies description!
I'll take an Eyes of the World from 1974 over 1984 fairly regularly, but I would NEVER EVER take a Jack Straw from 1973 over a Jack Straw from 1983. A band member's relationship with the songbook is something we will never understand, if only because we're still playing catch-up with our own relationship to the songbook as we gradually ride off into the sunset ourselves. Happy Trails!
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