Deadheads are like the Democrats. There's an orthodoxy. If I write about the band I hear from all these Gen-X'ers setting me straight, even though I saw the band way before they did.
Even happened last night. People were boasting how long they'd been into the Dead. They first saw them in '78!
I saw them in '71. Would have seen them in the winter of '70 if the New Haven Railroad ran after midnight. Because the Dead headlined the Fillmore starting just then, and played until the sun came up.
I saw them at Watkins Glen, I saw them at Boston Garden and the reason I'm mentioning all this is because I plan to get heretical, I'm going to tell you...
DEAD &COMPANY ARE BETTER THAN THE GRATEFUL DEAD EVER WERE!
It's kind of like the Stones. They used to play for an hour and a half. Somewhere in the middle of the show they'd lock on, and then they ultimately lost it. The Dead? They'd play for four hours, one hour would be unlistenable, one hour would be great and two hours would be so-so. I only saw them be good from start to finish once. And just like Dead & Company, on this last tour the Stones were great from start to finish too. In some ways, these are the good old days.
Sure, I miss Jerry. Sure, it would be great to have new material. But if you were there...
They were a west coast thing. They meant almost zero in the east. The first three albums were nearly complete stiffs everywhere. I got in with "Live/Dead" in '69, that was the first package to actually get good reviews. For me the highlight was "St. Stephen" into "The Eleven," but there was a whole side of Pigpen and "Turn On Your Love Light" and...McKernan died of substance abuse before it was hip, most people have no idea who he was, never mind being in the Grateful Dead.
The breakthrough was "Workingman's Dead" in the spring of '70, with "Uncle John's Band." Crosby, Stills, Nash and sometimes Young ruled. Acoustics and harmonies were everything. Who knew the Grateful Dead could do this?
Joe Smith told me he did, he signed them, asked them to make one for him after all those financial losses. Who knows the truth, Jerry's not the only one who is dead, Phil is too, as well as Joe.
That's still my favorite LP. It's sparse, it's airy. "New Speedway Boogie," that's the sh*t, that encapsulates Altamont more than the Stones movie.
But only months later came "American Beauty," which is when the masses started to glom on. I love "Box of Rain," but I never need to hear "Ripple" ever again, even though Norah Jones did a good version last night.
As for those Deadheads... Too many middle class kids afraid of danger, when in truth the Dead were the most dangerous of the San Francisco groups. But sometimes the audience eclipses the act. The scene becomes bigger than the music. To the point where those not interested are turned off, but if you were there 'til the end last night...
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The War and Treaty are just one or two exposures away from being huge stars. Used to be it took a hit, but now you can be known by many without one, like Brittany Howard, or Billy Strings, who performed last night. This duo, and only in Nashville can you be over 21, kills every time I see them. And it was a treat to see Mick Fleetwood and Stewart Copeland pounding the skins. How many more times am I going to see Mick live? The band's history and he's pushing 80.
Speaking of being on the verge of stardom, Marcus King...whew! He was playing those leads seemingly without effort, and he's only 28... The popsters are nominated for Grammys, along with the aged, but it's King and his brethren who are carrying the flag of authenticity, of skill, of music today.
Wynonna Judd... When was the last time we saw her? She emerged from the wings and triumphed. If you had hits once can you have them again? Let's hope so.
Now I'm skipping over performances that I found blah...
My Morning Jacket with Maggie Rose? You could b.s. with the crowd an really not miss anything.
Ditto on Vampire Weekend. Too weak for the more dynamic, full-bodied sound of the Dead.
And it was great to see Bela Fleck, but almost all of the quiet performances in the middle of the audience didn't translate. You couldn't hear a pin drop because there was so much shuffling and talking. This is first and foremost a networking event. They say it's about charity, and that's true, but where else can you get all these titans in one room? You can do a year's worth of business in one night. That's one of the reasons I live in L.A.
Man, let me list the other performances that didn't move me.
Maren Morris delivered the material directly, but there was no soul.
Sierra Ferrell's true country voice stood out, but it couldn't conquer the rabble-rousing.
Hornsby? Love him, did well, but man on piano in a cacophonous cavern...doesn't work.
But Dwight Yoakam?
His was my favorite performance of the night. Because his did have soul, and attitude. There was that freight train running down the track quality the Dead had when they got it right. Dwight lifted the energy in the room.
The complete surprise? SAMMY HAGAR!
What's Sammy doing at this show? But Sammy's performance swung. There was a groove. Sammy even picked up his Les Paul and threw off some notes. You got the energy of a performance, you were more than watching, you were involved.
But not with Billy Strings. Who is all about his playing but was mostly singing.
And then...
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Musicares is normally endless. Doesn't run on time and ends after midnight, when more than half the audience is gone.
But looking at my watch... Not only had the evening been a seamless production, by time the speeches began it wasn't even eleven.
Woody Harrelson did the intro. He told a meandering story and endeared himself to us like always. Likes to come across as a stoner doofus, but it's not long before you realize there's intelligence and talent underneath. He spoke of the first night he saw the band, at Shoreline, doing drugs and talking with Jerry while the band was waiting for him to come out for the encore.
And Woody had a punchline, but I'll save it for when you hear him tell it live.
And then Mickey Hart evidenced a spryness and intelligence that you wouldn't expect from an 81 year old.
As for Bob Weir... He said he was dyslexic and proved it. He said he'd have trouble with the teleprompter but the end result was him endearing himself to us, demonstrating that you don't have to be good in school to be successful. Hell, most musicians aren't.
And then...
Dead & Company.
This is not guaranteed. The honoree does not always play the show.
But...
Now this is not the aforementioned Stones. There's not a dramatic start, a flash from black to white. Instead, the members were there on stage in the bright lights and the playing began and...
I'd be lying if I said it was marvelous. The vocals were not perfect and I was talking with Steve Boom and Daniel Glass and then...
Must've been about ten minutes in. My head popped up, I recognized it, THIS WAS THE DEAD!
The Dead were anti-stars. It was about creating an environment more than a performance. Sometimes Jerry would be walking around on stage, not even looking at the audience. Seemingly in search of that one element that would lift the music.
This is not how it usually is. Normally the building is dark, the only lights are on stage, you're there to worship at the feet of icons, your eyesight is focused.
But not the Dead. The Dead were reinventing it every night. There was no formula. Back in the day, it would start with the New Riders, Jerry would play pedal steel, which he had a new fascination for. There'd be a break and the band would come out and it would start...slow. Everybody hunting for the groove. There was no pop, there was an evolution.
Now ultimately, the scene superseded the music, the band. It was about being there, even if you were outside the building. But there was none of that if you were there early. Just the band and its fans, the music and the feeling. There were no hits, no showstoppers. Eventually "Casey Jones" and "Truckin'," but...those were new once too.
So the lights are bright last night. And the band has locked in. In a way that no one else does. Back in the sixties they called it psychedelic. Now they call it jam band. But not only does it evolve from the Dead, it's truly nothing like the Dead. Because the Dead were the progenitors. They were creating the music, not imitating. There was no form. They existed in a world unto themselves, and either you were hip to it or not, interested or not.
"So "Althea" runs into "Sugar Magnolia" and it's clear, there will be no breaks, this will not end, this is a journey, and we're just along for the ride. They're not playing to us, but themselves. They're locked together, making this sound, that is new and alive, not just replication of a record.
And it eventually evolves into "Touch of Grey," the band's only hit, pushed over the transom by Clive Davis and MTV.
But it's not the "Touch of Grey" of the record. It's got the same words, the same changes, but it's been transmogrified into something different.
And every time you thought it was coming to a conclusion, it was not.
They'd sing:
"I will get by
I will survive"
And that would be a great way to end this piece, but it didn't end the performance, which settled into more solos, more trading of vocals between Weir and Mayer...
This is the Grateful Dead.
And you can't get it anywhere else. Can't even get it on a record, never mind cover versions. Because it's got to do with the players themselves, and not only the chemistry between them but the trip into nooks and crannies, the surprises, while...
The song keeps trucking along. Lifting you higher and higher.
Tomorrow night they're going to honor the Spotify Top 50. And there's money there, but if you want the heart and soul of music you should have been there last night, for Dead & Company's performance.
And you can go to the Sphere and see them, you should, it's worth the trip. And it's different every night, you can't box in the Grateful Dead, and some nights are better than others, but that's just like...
Life.
Forget the experts in their tie-dye, keeping you away with their bloviations about this show and that. The Dead were always a big tent, they were never exclusive. They were there when you were ready. Ready to light the fuse and see where the rocket went. Sometimes over on its side, sometimes into the stratosphere.
And you don't have to be on drugs to get it.
You've just got to surrender. Your preconceptions. Your trappings, your beliefs, and go for the ride.
Because when they get it right, it's great.
And you can't get it anywhere else.
That's what the modern music business was built upon. Not hit songs, but culture. Created by those left of center, who liked the money but oftentimes couldn't read a royalty statement, assuming there was one. It was just about you and your buds, traveling across the country, getting high and playing music. Veritable outlaws.
That spirit's been gone for a long time.
But it was in downtown L.A. last night.
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