Set One
Hell In A Bucket - Mick warns Bobby not to play too fast, then begins a continuous beat that’s prevalent throughout the entire tune – and fast. Concise and rockin’, typical of ’85, Jer splashing out some standard licks, but well. Enthusiastic, but barely in control – Phil’s holding it down.
Sugaree - Jerry’s voice is not too Kermit D. Froggy, the band settles down, Jerry’s swaying chords are on target, and he’s ready to take over mid-song, probably even smiling. Brent’s organ is nice and wharbly, revealing a pretty nice overall mix. Bobby’s rhythm can’t be detected – inconclusive whether it’s the mix or just the song. A very nice opening for Jerry Garcia.
It's All Over Now - I’m still not sure if Bobby’s guitar is even connected to the mixer. The drummers blend in a bit more, Bobby’s voice is calm, timing perfect. His excitement is escalating into the second verse, and I think I even heard some distorted clanging from his ax. By 2:30 we’ve got a fully cohesive jam. VERY NICE work from Brent in his solo, per usual. Uh oh, here comes the slide! It’s clangy, yet somehow fits in, and Bobby doesn’t appear to be lost… Jerry saves the end of it, and the boys ride the rest out well, Phil keeping it together and Brent throwing out some crazy backup on the chorus.
Bird Song - Jerry has to wait for the drummers to join in, obviously the start of a slow and long jam. It’s fairly typical for ’85, Brent creating most of the rhythm fill. The jam becomes somewhat disjointed in the middle, but it recovered with another verse around 6:30. Phil is loose and Jerry takes over the final 2 minutes, closing an unremarkable Bird Song.
El Paso > Brent flies into a hoppity, carnival-tempo take on a classic, which leads into some heavy drumming that’s becoming distracting, suffocating the potential for the mid-70s Bob Weir enthusiasm that accompanies this number.
Don't Ease Me In – In contrast to the all-too-common flat and, dare I say, executed performances of this song in the mid-80s, the boys play a concise, rhythmic closer, seemingly eager to get to their separate dressing rooms and array of illegal goodies backstage.
Set Two
Iko Iko – While the unnecessary Healy burp threatens the legitimacy of this tape, this fun, 80s-drenched performance features silky-smooth Jerry bars, a faithful and perfectly-pitched Phil line, and unobtrusive Mydland tinkles. Like much of the first set, it seems to end too soon without an extended jam – well played, yet lacking the outdoor-festival energy that often accompanies this opener and this decade.
Looks Like Rain – Perhaps the first well-adapted Bob Weir introspection of the night, the electronic haze surrounding his vocals highlights the years of heavy cigarette intake. The rhythm devils take the band through a smooth and popping bridge, which leads to some crowd-pleasing vocal improvisation, and a predictably repetitive peak to close.
He's Gone > Funky rhythm effects by Weir segue into a sweet ’72-born classic with no hints of the vocal struggle which often accompanies this collaboration in this era. It’s difficult to choose a favorite in this intricate interplay, until Jerry shines through a swooning Weir fill at about the 5 minute mark. All three vocalists choose their spots well, and this performance shines as a comfortable, controlled song that highlights the beauty of the Grateful Dead. The close is not overly enthusiastic, but given the quality, it’s hard to complain.
Spoonful > A somewhat awkward transition led by Brent’s Hammond is grabbed by Weir’s distortion in the first blues and only blues number of the night, and Mickey Hart is preemptively prepared for drums with some felt-tips and gloves. Weir hangs on for a nice, heavy transition into the drummer’s free time, which in this year is certainly a high point in Grateful Dead history for the pair.
Drums > Space > gong-heavy, hazy, and consistently rhythmic, the two are worth staying at your place for. Well, maybe not during space…
The Wheel > a cool Garcia outro from space, this is an energetic return to Earth, with the drummers still adding a great deal of musical quality. Phil shines with his decisive engine of sound, and another quick ending leads to what appears to be a bluesy Black Peter.
Black Peter > The first verse is a struggle, and Jerry noticeably picks up the focus in the ensuing lines. In contrast to the 1970 requisite performance, this is less about lamentation and storytelling, and more about playing a full, post-drums crowd pleaser. The drummers seize every opportunity, and it becomes apparent that Brent has stepped into a secondary role for the final set. Despite this quality, the listener is still left unsure of what becomes of Peter.
Throwing Stones > this post-drums staple of the era is Brent-heavy, enthusiastic, and truly a Bobby showcase. His vocals are loaded and his feed not heavily tampered with, and Jerry’s triumphant middle bar is not overly inspiring. At six minutes, the familiar vocal stagger is perfectly executed, and Weir manages to keep the group from ripping into the inevitable Not Fade Away.
Not Fade Away – perhaps the most fitting rock ripper for the drummers, Jerry perks up for some interesting interplay with Phil a minute in, and the band breaks the calm, consistent element which has controlled most of the night. One of the few drawn-out tracks of the show, the drummers salute an enthusiastic outdoor crowd in what has surely been a fun, yet subdued night in the mountains.
Nice details - I am diggin' the analytical approach.
ReplyDeleteBTW I woke up on the couch downstairs the other morning, in jorts no t-shirt, and thought my roomates had left for work. I didnt have my keys to get back in the house so I sprinted - SPRINTED - to foolishly try to catch one of them. BUT the previous nights nefarious activities caught up with me in about, oh 8 steps as I was clickin' up the stairs. On step 3 of the case I crashed and burned and in jorts. Soldier down and badly bruised (mentally & physically) Turns out the doors were not locked so I got into my bed covered in dirt and soaked in shame.