Eulogy For Dan Feldman – My Friend – My Brother

Eulogy For Dan Feldman

My Friend – My Brother

[This past Friday I had the honor and unfortunate privilege to eulogize my dearest childhood friend, Dan Feldman. The following is the unabridged and annotated text of that eulogy. I made the conscious decision to omit some of the passages from my eulogy, for the sake of time and out of respect for the sanctity of the proceedings. After speaking with many of the people in attendance – especially Dan’s wife Erin, as well as his parents and sister – I felt it was appropriate to publish the thoughts that were left unspoken. I have inserted these sections, along with some additional thoughts that came to me after the funeral, in brackets throughout the text that follows.]

[The last time I stood on this Bimah I must have been no more than 15 or 16 years old. I was reading Torah – singing praise to a god whom I was taught was merciful, compassionate and just. Today I stand here to say goodbye to a dear friend – and ask that same god “why now?”

Soon after I first heard of Dan’s passing, I dug up my copy of Rabbi Harold Kushner’s book When Bad Things Happen To Good People. A text I first read many years ago during Hebrew High School, in this very same building. In it I hoped to find some understanding about the irrational and unfair nature of Dan’s untimely death – some solace to help me cope with the deep sense of loss and pain that was gripping my soul. I found neither. Much to my surprise, reading Rabbi Kushner’s words only helped to focus my anger and grief toward a god that had robbed the world of a beautiful person – and a family of a father, a husband, a son and a brother.

After I read the first draft of my eulogy to my 9-year-old son, he paused for a moment and said, “Dad, don’t you think that’s a little dark. I’d stick to the funny stuff.”

As is it written in Psalms, “From the mouths of babes oft come gems.”]

*        *        *

[Looking heavenward] Lord, why did you choose to steal Dan Feldman away from us now – well before any of us were ready to let him go?

Brain cancer? Really? Is that the best you could come up with? You couldn’t think of something nobler? Especially after all of the crazy stunts Dan and I survived together as kids? We gave you countless opportunities to pull the rug out from underneath us – so we could go out in a blaze of glory.

Don’t you remember when Dan and I would go skateboarding down Settlers Way and Mud Road with Chris Zummo? How many times did we bail out at high speed, narrowly missing a tree, the curb or a parked car? What about those massive bike ramps we used to build at the bottom of Robert Townsend Drive – or the huge ski jumps with Kenny Goldstein at Gelinas? We never wore helmets or protection of any kind. Those are the kind of flamboyant exits that would have at least gotten us a mention in the local paper.

Or the time Dan broke his arm jumping from the handles at the top of my pool slide. The top of the slide wasn’t high enough – so we had to stand on the flimsy tubular handles to get that extra foot of altitude – a trick Jeff Bowman showed us.

Dan and I were getting bored of simply jumping off the slide, so we figured we’d take the stunt up a notch by trying to jump into the opening of one of those old school floatation devices. You know, the ones with the hole just big enough that you’d have to struggle to squeeze your way into it. We figured the sheer force of the jump would shoot us straight through the hole with no problem. We were wrong.

I’ll never forget what Dan said just before he jumped, “Aaron, it’s too bad your cabana isn’t closer to the pool. Then we could jump off the roof!”

Classic Dan. It was that kind of thinking that I’m sure served him well at Crayola. So, having broken his arm, Dan ran home and somehow explained to his parents what had happened – or maybe he didn’t.

What about the winter afternoon when Dan and I pretended we were artic explorers? We walked onto the Setauket duck pond to explore the small island that lay in the middle. There’s no way that ice was frozen solid. [Apparently, that wasn’t the right time either.]

Lord, perhaps you remember when Dan and I scraped together enough money to mail away for Chinese throwing stars out of the back of a Kung Fu magazine? [How that package didn’t get intercepted by one of our parents I will never know]

We were ninja spies! Throwing the stars at trees, squirrels, each other…it’s amazing we didn’t kill ourselves, or one of Dan’s unsuspecting neighbors.

I bet if you used a metal detector to search the bushes in the Feldman’s front yard, just below Dan’s bedroom window, you’d recover a few of the stars that missed their intended target…

Wait – that’s right. Dan insisted that we only buy the ceramic throwing stars – just in case something went terribly wrong – the cops wouldn’t be able to find any evidence using a metal detector! He was always thinking three steps ahead. A quality I’m sure his friends at Launch House certainly can appreciate.

And then there was the fateful summer when Dan and I joined the model rocketry club together. Get this – our parent’s actually paid money and signed authorization slips that allowed Dan and I to join a club where they handed out small explosives. You can’t make this stuff up.

I recall conniving my mom and June – separately of course – to take us to the hobby shop so we could stock up on model rocket engines.

“No Mom – we need the D engines – the C engines simply aren’t big enough to give us the necessary altitude. Now granted, we did manage to launch several rockets [my favorite of which – named “DARK STAR” is still displayed proudly in my parents’ basement]…

But Dan and I had bigger plans for our stash of engines. We rode our bikes to Gelinas Junior High School and scraped all of the powdered fuel into a giant pile. With a single match – POOF! The pile instantly exploded in a bright burst of flame, mustard yellow smoke and an acrid smell that will forever be seared into my olfactory memory.

The explosion burned my thumb pretty badly – but as I raised it up to show Dan the damage I caught a glimpse of his face…and I realized very quickly that I got off light.

I can hear him now as he stared at me in astonishment…”What?”

You see, during “the experiment” Dan lost both of his eyebrows and all of his eyelashes. [He looked like Bob Geldof from Pink Floyd’s The Wall]. I can only imagine how he explained that to Ken and June when he got back to his house.  I remember walking into my back yard to tell my dad the story I had spun on the bike ride home…

[“Dad…Dan and I were playing at Gelinas, we got tired and fell asleep under a blanket – but my thumb was sticking out and it got sunburned…”]

I didn’t get past “Dan and I were playing at Gelinas…” when my father slowly lowered his newspaper and gave me the once over. I see could from the look on his face that he was saying to himself, “you’ve got all your limbs, you’re breathing and you’re clearly not bleeding.” My father silently raised the paper back up and kept reading.

That’s how it was in those days. Our parents had gotten used to what Ken referred to the other day as “those shenanigans you two used to get into.” I don’t remember being punished for any of our misadventures. Dan was my buffer and I his.

And then there is my favorite story of all. After school one day, Dan and I watched an episode of the A-Team. Shortly thereafter, my mom found us skulking in her garage – crouched next to her car. Dan and I had snaked a piece of string into the gas tank of my mom’s car and we were trying to light it. Thank God she caught us before we blew up the house

[I was reminiscing with my mom the other day about Dan, as I was putting this eulogy together. Amidst the bouts of laughter and tears, she told me that she and June still get a good laugh retelling that story.]

*        *        *

With Dan having survived all of those harrowing moments and numerous other crazy stories – keep in mind that this is a guy who took shrapnel from the Atlanta Olympic Village bombing – I can’t explain why he died. I can however describe to you in wondrous, colorful detail how he lived.  

Dan was a beautifully playful and creative soul – a fountain of ideas. Just ask the people at Crayola and Launch House – or our friends who watched him steal the show at Skit Night at Raquette Lake in Ninth Grade.  Dan wanted his first car to be a postal truck. He was going to paint U.S. MALE on the side of it. I passed one this morning on the way to the funeral and started to laugh.

Dan was a beacon of light that attracted everyone. No matter who you were or what group you ran with – Dan brought everyone together. He was the pied piper – the hub of the wheel around which we all spun.

It sounds like the cliché plot from some cheesy 80’s movie but it’s true. The jocks, the nerds, the metal heads and the beautiful people – everyone wanted to be Dan’s friend. And Dan was happy to oblige.

Dan was Facebook before there was Facebook…

He introduced me to Aaron Albano and a host of other kids from Murphy Junior High, at a time when that part of town might as well have been a foreign country. I only knew the kids who lived within the radius where I could ride my bike in an afternoon.

There are dozens of old friends I’ve reconnected with – many of them in this room today – simply because of Dan’s epic battle.  We were all bearing witness to the miracle that was Dan’s tireless, beautiful, poetic fight against cancer.

Even more amazing, I’ve already made some new friends, planning for Dan’s funeral. Ben Taylor and the other Crayolians, Dar Caldwell from Launch House and Kimberly Shepard to name a few. Only Dan could set it up so that his funeral would turn into the social event of the season. I was joking with Michelle Romano the other day that all we need is a DJ spinning 80s hits and we could have ourselves a high school reunion dance. I’m still waiting for Dan to come sliding through the door – wearing his white tux and tails, thin tie, Converse Chuck Taylors and that mischievous Cheshire grin.

[Well-played old friend. Well-played.]

Dan was Match.com before there was Match.com…

Just ask Jonathan French. He met his beautiful wife Stacey because of Dan. And I would have never had the guts to kiss Jamie Pomerantz’s babysitter if Dan hadn’t orchestrated the entire hook-up (my apologies James but for today you’re Jamie).

As Sue Gillert put it in a post earlier this week, Dan was a Stud Muffin. He was always the best-dressed guy in school (in fact I think he was voted “Best Dressed in our High School yearbook), with the coolest shoes and the mod haircut. I was in awe of his charm, confidence and animal magnetism. I was a nerd’s nerd – big glasses, retainer, shopping in the husky department my whole childhood – the works – with absolutely no game whatsoever.

Dan on the other hand was always hanging out with the best looking girls in school. His beautiful wife Erin is no exception.

One afternoon Dan called to tell me we had a lunch date with Jackie Jennings at Zorba The Greek in Port Jeff Station.

“WE had a lunch date?”

Not to put too fine a point on it but Jackie Jennings was one of the prettiest girls in school and I had no idea why Dan would want me to play third wheel – but I didn’t argue. I hung up the phone and got ready.

A few minutes later, Dan swung by and picked me up in his silver Ford Taurus wagon – the very same car he flipped on 25A and survived!

After lunch Dan insisted that Jackie come back to my house to see my new guitar and listen to me play. At the time I knew all of five chords and none of them were right – but Dan didn’t care.

It didn’t register with me at the time but looking back now I get it – Dan was proud of our friendship – he loved me unconditionally. That was Dan in a nutshell. Until his final days – that was Dan – unconditional love and a desire to inspire and bring people together.

Dan was so ahead of his time and emotionally mature for his age.

Jamie Pomerantz and I went off to Driver’s Ed and we came back with Driver’s Licenses.  Dan went off to Driver’s Ed and came back with a driver’s license AND a pack of catholic girls from St. Anthony’s for our crew to hang out with…[looking heavenward]

THAT’S RIGHT – CATHOLIC GIRLS – HOT CATHOLIC GIRLS MIND YOU!

We didn’t ask how he did it – we were just happy to come along for the ride – and – as always Dan was more than happy to be the straw that stirred the drink.

[Dan and I shared the kind of childhood experiences that echo in my memory like the chorus of a Harry Chapin song. Late August afternoons where time slowed to a crawl and seemed to stand still – where there was always enough sunlight left in the sky for one more inning of baseball – one more lap around the block on our bikes – or one more jump off the pool slide. The kind of days that felt like they would never end – and on a day like today – I wish they never had.]

Those were good times – no – those were great times. And Dan Feldman was a great friend – my best friend – my brother.

*        *        *

When I found out about his illness, I reached out to Dan to apologize for having allowed our friendship to stray. I was riddled with guilt. Dan would have none of it. He told me that he was just happy to hear from me.

“We all make mistakes Aaron…me especially.”

With that one gesture, Dan lifted my burden and placed it on himself. Here’s a guy fighting brain cancer, multiple surgeries, chemotherapy, radiation, the works – and he’s concerned with making sure I’m OK.

Who does this guy think he is, the Dalai Lama?

That was my friend Dan – the kindest, sweetest more caring person I’ve ever known. Even in the midst of his most trying hour – he was looking to make the world around him a better place.

Dan was a great friend, a loving husband, a devoted father and a shining star that lit up the world. Dan’s star has gone super nova – his energy, light and brilliance having become one with the cosmos. And much like the stars that we see at night – many of them having long been extinguished – Dan’s light will continue to shine down upon us for years to come.

Dan is HERE [head], HERE [mouth], HERE [heart] and HERE [hands] – forever. So long as we continue to think about Dan, share the wonderful memories we have about him, cherish his light and love in our hearts – and most importantly continue the work he has inspired us all to undertake – to make the world a better place – to commit random acts of kindness and keep the tsunami of love flowing – so long as we do these things – Dan Feldman will be with us always.

And as for YOU [looking heavenward] – you’ve got your hands full! I can see Dan driving his ice cream truck through the gates of Heaven right now. Hoping out, clad in that ridiculous Crayola warrior suit, his Chuck Taylors and that electric, defiant grin beaming on his face – ready to stir things up and make some trouble.

I love you Dan – rest in peace brother.

Europe '72: Stakladen, Aarhus University, Aarhus, Denmark (4/16/1972)

From the opening moments of Greatest Story Ever Told we get an immediate impression of both the performance space and the "head-space" of the band. The music has the sizzle of a charged particle – it's driving and focused. The various elements in the sonic presentation are tight and compact, with very little distance between the instruments. And yet the sound is not congested like Newcastle – it's simply smaller, tighter, thicker and less ambient...and thankfully in tune.

Jerry is ripping throughout this Greatest Story Ever Told – homeboy clearly warmed up before hitting the stage. Speaking from experience, it's virtually impossible to play that deftly when you're ice cold. I recall hearing an interview with Jerry years later where he explained that he would routinely practice for 2-3 hours before gigs. I'm not sure if he had that kind of free time on the Europe '72 tour...but he's ready to roll from the first down beat. Listen to the chunky synchronization of Bobby’s guitar, Billy’s snare and Keith’s left hand as the Greatest Story outro jam wraps up.

...

The novelty not withstanding, the Dead are playing in front of roughly 700 people in a university cafeteria. The liner notes describe how the stage is set up at the far end of the room – and it sounds like it. A quick lesson in room acoustics: when you are positioned at an end point in a room, you are subject to massive amounts of low frequency peaks. This tends to cause the bass to sound tubby, muddled and slow. In addition, playing an audio source in close proximity to a room's boundary node creates a rapid slap-echo and a truncated decay of the reverb.

Kudos to Jeffrey Norman's masterful mixing skills – with all of these sonic issues present in the master recording – Phil's bass sounds punchy, the drums are controlled and you can still hear Pigpen’s tambourine cutting through as clear as day.

The more I listen to the Aarhus show, the more it reminds me of the recordings we used to make at the original Knitting Factory on Houston Street in New York City. The head engineer, James McLean had modified some Radio Shack PZM microphones with Crown elements and mounted them inside a wooden housing, suspended from the ceiling about 15' from the stage. The resulting recordings were always spot on – with a well-defined sound-stage, a crisp stereo image and an uncanny room presence. If I were to play you one of these tapes, you'd swear you were sitting in a folding chair, ten rows back in that dusty hall with its signature sweater-lined ceiling. Listening to Aarhus 4/16/72 gives me the same eerie feeling of realistic sonic immersion.

...

Listen for the clinking beer bottles before the start of this solid version of Sugaree (more about this later). All of the necessary signature Jerry licks and Pigpen organ fills are present, giving it an almost studio-like quality. The very tasteful and subtlety powerful crescendo in the last reprise of the first verse in the 5th minute is also worth noting. There's just enough emphasis in Jerry's vocals to accent the sincerity of his plea to the song's namesake. All in all, a tight rendition – one of the tour's best.

...

With every passing song, it becomes more apparent just how much fun the boys were having at Aarhus. For instance, I love how Jerry and Keith are "hanging out" in the background, playing around in the 2nd minute, as Chinatown Shuffle comes to a close. The typical European synchronized clapping resumes after Black Throated Wind...to which Billy obliges with a whimsical, pulsating roll on his snare drum.

As is par for this tour, the Tennessee Jed and Mr. Charlie are both rock solid and feature some fantastic guitar work from Mr. Garcia. It's hard to believe that we're only into the fifth night of a 22-show tour and I'm already taking (the once maligned in my eyes) Tennessee Jed for granted as a first set monster. Who'da thunk it?

Also very endearing, the minor flub at start of Beat It On Down The Line draws some laughter from the audience. For what it's worth, Billy’s got this Beat It On Down The Line in his back pocket – solid. His attack is hard-hitting and bristling with energy.

...

Looking back at the notes from my first pass through of Aarhus Set 1, my preliminary impressions spoke of an almost pedestrian effort that was "not without its charms" – no major highs – no major flaws. Upon further review, those initial notions were way off. In fact, the first set of Aarhus represents a stunning effort – with its compact simplicity, effortless musicianship, upbeat disposition and energized feedback loop between the audience and the band. Much like the well-developed, layered flavors of sophisticated Indian cuisine, the complex spices of Stakladen creep up on your aural pallet. By the time China-Rider hits, your wiping the sweat from your brow and asking the waiter for another glass of ice water.

...

The first set of 4/16/72 really takes off with the arrival of China-Rider – a song sequence that comes of age on this tour. Its organic maturation is made manifest as the band delves deeper into the continental realms, with its true majesty come full blossom in the iconic 5/3 Paris performance – the high water mark for the early expression of this legendary composition.

There are so many beautiful, artistic moments during this China-Rider. Take for example the very hip call and response at the end of first intra-verse mini-jam – at 1:21 Billy presents an almost melodic line (his drums are tuned perfectly) that Keith answers at 1:25 during the beginning of the “Crazy cat” verse.

Then, during the 2nd minute, after the modulation to E, we experience what can be argued is the essence of China-Rider...Jerry blowing a crisp, singular lead over the changes...Keith throwing down stout yet dexterous chord melodies...while Bobby is toggling between supporting rhythms and leading counter-melody ideas.

Pay attention to Keith’s third part harmony during the transitional section. His ideas are exploratory and innovative, as he floats between Jerry’s primary and Bobby’s secondary-melody. As the jam continues, Phil adds another melodic element to the mix – essentially giving us four melodic devices working in concert. In addition to the lead instruments, Billy’s snare accents also add much to the musical tapestry, especially when you consider them in relationship to Bobby’s rhythmic contributions.

The truth is, in the 4th minute Bobby takes the lead and Jerry falls into a supporting roll – the tables have been turned. A major aspect of why China-Rider blossoms during the spring of 1972 is the development of Bobby’s rhythmic lead in the transitional section. With each plate appearance, his stroke has been getting more confident and by the time we reach Aarhus, Bobby is ripping line-drive doubles into the gap.

At the 5:02 mark we have a brief, subtle interjection of Phil’s 12-beat 7 vs. 5 motif. He's carried this concept with him all the way from merry old England – and he's not about to let it go now. Phil's musical falafel is again in full effect!

:06 seconds into the I Know You Rider Keith introduces a repetitive, tight left-handed roll. It's quite impressive that he's able to maintain this thought for the remainder of the song sequence. Throughout this tour Keith is continually exploring new musical areas that the band had not harvested prior to his joining the ensemble. In many ways, the group as a whole is sowing seeds in one concert and harvesting them in subsequent performances.

As the Dead dance the razor's edge between independent invention and group-think improvisation in Aarhus, we have a crystallized demonstration of why China-Rider was such a crowd pleaser throughout their storied tenure. I can't say enough about this bifurcated composition and how it is presented on this tour – there is so much going on. Granted, this is a written blog but (...I give up...) the Europe '72 China-Rider's are beyond words. You simply have to listen to them over and over again to truly appreciate their brilliance.

In the 3rd minute we have Jerry showcasing more open-chord banjo finger style and Phil utilizing a sweep-picking technique at the 3:55 mark. I love when Phil starts dropping chords – rock bass decadence at its finest!

The last go-around of the Rider jam section, just before the reprise of the chorus is great stuff. We have Jerry flashing more of his open banjo picking...Keith's masterful chord melodies and Phil filling in (no pun intended) the spaces left behind. Add to that an array of snare shots and myriad other accents from Billy's kit and you have the icing on the cake for this smokin' China-Rider. The proverbial cherry on top comes in the form of Jerry’s upper register lick at 4:20, which is skillfully answered by Keith at 4:33 – and again at 5:01.

Damn!

...

For apparently unknown reasons, Donna is M.I.A. from the Stakladen show. Her absence becomes most apparent as we reach the Playin' In The Band. Prior to this instance of Playin' Bobby had been introducing her to each of the European audiences. Tonight...not so much. With all due respect to Donna, she's not missed in the least.

A quick and focused pass through of the verses gives way to the jam portion of the work. The entrance to this Playin' jam is light, open and airy – featuring some nice interplay between a major scale motif in Keith’s right-hand and Jerry’s rolled-off, feedback induced guitar bites. As the jam section gradually builds, it begins spinning in on itself. As it spins inward it grows faster, harder and denser. This Playin' jam is a primer in basic physics and centripetal force...

For the sake of this experiment, cue up Track 1 / Disc 2 of Aarhus. Sit yourself in a well-oiled desk chair and as the Playin' jam begins, give yourself a really strong spin. Better yet – have an assistant spin you – it's far more effective (and they can catch you if need be). As the boys' musical train pulls away from the station, pull your legs into your chest. You will find that you both start to spin faster and faster still. I recommend you keep spinning on the chair for the remainder of Disc 2...

Some highlights worth noting from the 4/16 Stakladen Playin':

* Check out Phil and Billy’s conversation at 4:30

* If you drop the needle at the 6:14 mark, you will hear Jerry introducing an alternate version of Phil's 12-beat falafel motif.

* General observation – Keith handy work is omnipresent throughout. He has an uncanny knack for playing multiple rolls simultaneously. As the rhythmic glue, he fills the spaces within the push-and-pull expansions of his band mates. As a soloist, Keith adds his own unique flavors and accents to the mix. And in his roll as a traditional member of the rhythm section, his piano helps support the foundation upon which the innumerable musical expressions are built to soaring heights.

* From out of the underbrush in minute 7:00 springs Jerry with a frightening tiger freak-out. This is no melt-down – instead it's just a full-on tiger attack...ROAR! This bombastic barrage swells to a furious crescendo at 7:20. As Chef warned us in Apocalypse Now "Never get out of the boat!"

Willard: Absolutely goddamn right! Unless you were goin' all the way... Kurtz got off the boat. He split from the whole fuckin' program.

...

The gradual introduction of Good Lovin’ demonstrates again just how tight the sound is in Stakladen. Pay attention to Billy's snare and Jerry's guitar. The room end-point sonic characteristics are clearly present – namely an almost instantaneous slap echo, a tight sound stage and shortened reverb decay.

Dig on Jerry’s over-reverbed, recessed wah-wah noodling between minutes 3:00 and 6:00. He has no responsibility towards the structure of the overall groove – he’s just laying back and having fun. It’s very cool to hear Jerry play with such free, creative abandon. At 4:47 we have the return of the accented 12-figure – the falafel thread continues...

We have more examples of the Aarhus acoustics in minutes 8:00 through 11:00, especially as the music quiets. Again, focus on the boundary reflection present in the staccato shots of Keith’s punches, Billy's snare, Jerry’s reverb and the decay of Pigpen’s vocals. All of these sonic elements give you a well-defined mind-impression of the long, thin nature of the room – with the band stuffed-in at one end. Turn up the volume and give it a good listen.

The middle sections of the Europe '72 Good Lovin' jams are some of the quietest, most intimate moments on the entire tour. They're the kind of grooves that give me a feeling of "Shhh…we don’t want to wake up the people in the next room." A fantastically expansive dynamic range is on display as the band bobs and weaves around Pigpen's rap in minutes 6:00 and 7:00 – dances through the spaces of 8:00 and 9:00 – ultimately advancing the collective kinetic energies to a peak in minutes 10:00 and 11:00.

Variations on Phil's (now-famous) falafel groove return at the 13:17 mark. Upon further, more acute listening, this 12-beat figure sounds a lot like the negative/mirror image of the Good Lovin' intro itself – it's frequency having been shifted a half-cycle in space-time. It's as if the groove exists as the “dark side” or underbelly of the prototypical pop-rock bass line. It’s so oddly familiar and yet equally as foreign at the same time...

In Rocky Mountain High, John Denver sang about "Comin' home to a place he'd never been before." Carl Jung referred to this phenomenon as the "shock of recognition" – Gestalt Psychology, the "Ah-ha!" (Thank you Mr. Gans). In this moment, the individual becomes aware of truths he has always known but has not been able to express in words...

In this way, the recurring falafel motif tantalizes the inner thoughts of the listener. A musical mandala of sorts – an idea common to everyone, everywhere. Jung spoke of these ideas as "archetypal images" from humankind's "collective unconscious." There have already been several moments like this hidden in the deeper recesses of the Europe '72 box set – Phil's falafel motif just happens to be more pronounced and oft repeated. And so it is here in Aarhus, Denmark, almost 40 years later – through Phil we all relive a dream we dreamed one afternoon long ago.

The seed was planted at 13:17, with the musical idea taking root in Jerry's improvisational unconscious – although he never fully commits to it. At 14:47 Phil reclaims the idea and settles us into a well-developed groove...

Could he be any more aggressive in minute 17:00 as the primary Good Lovin' theme returns? I love the natural distortion of his bass tone...he has totally over modulated his amplifiers.

...

Mr. Peabody has set the WABAC Machine to 1970 for this Dire Wolf. It doesn’t sound remotely like the same band that we’ve been enjoying on this tour, let alone during the previous song. Instead the open-chord country feel is raw and unsophisticated. The whole presentation is archaic when compared to the nominal Spring 1972 sound.

...

Are those more beer bottles being cleared before Cumberland Blues? That clinking sound reminds me of when The Blues Brothers played Bob’s Country Bunker. After finishing the set, the band has to make their way through all the empty beer bottles to get off the chicken wire-lined stage.

* Jerry’s thin (i.e. bridge-position pick-up), reverbed, twangy, bended flat-picking solo during the first jam in Cumberland Blues is really hot.

* At the 4:30 mark, Keith extends the coda before the start of the final Cumberland verse. Jerry is clearly looking for a cue (visual or otherwise) for when he should start his vocal.

...

Listen for more beer bottles before the El Paso. You can practically hear Bob scolding Jake and Elwood Blues outside the Country Bunker:

"You know you boys owe me a lot of money for that beer you drank tonight, Goddammit!"

Jerry’s unvarnished, arpeggiated running solo throughout the El Paso is endearing and real – especially in first half of minute 2:00. He revisits the same high-registered triplet feel at the 3:10 mark.

Furthermore, there is something very human, natural and “correct” about the tone of a Fender Strat plugged into a Fender Twin amplifier, with the reverb cranked way up. It screams early American Rock & Roll. I think as a red-blooded American, I’m genetically programmed to like that set-up, no matter what’s being run through it. The fact that Jerry is a masterful player just adds to the experience and the mystique of the mythical Fender tone...

Which leads us straight into the Deal. The Nash Strat is in full bloom. In particular, focus on the two vastly distinct tones presented in the solo section. During the first go-around Jerry’s clearly using the neck position pick-up. This pick-up sits closer to the middle of the guitar strings, thereby creating a fatter, rounder tone with less bite. Listen how he switches to the bridge pick-up for the second pass through the solo. The guitar takes on a cutting, biting, edgy tone. The same great "Jerry feel" resonates – there's simply a wholly different attack and tonal presentation on exhibit.

...

Disc 3 of April 16, 1972 consists of one giant, multi-transitional song sequence. Although each song stands alone in the progression, musical markers exist within each composition, clearly denoting where the boys have been and where they intend to take us. For example, there is an obvious Other One cue at 7:40 of Truckin'.

Before we reach that point however, Bobby alters the first verse of Truckin' to include the line “Aarhus, New York, Detroit and it's all the same street.” Say that ten times fast.

Much like the instances of Playin' in the Band on this tour, Truckin' is a song where the Dead can summon a musical peak at will – seemingly out of nowhere – WHAM! Within a 30 second window, they deftly move from a chill two-chord vamp to a lightning quick crescendo and then bring it back down to a subdued, yet energetic groove.

At 4:47 of Track 2 (labeled Jam), Jerry reverts back to the over-reverbed tone first visited on Good Lovin'. It's as if he turns around mid-jam and cranks the Reverb knob on his amplifier up to 11. His tone takes on an almost surf guitar nature.

Phil is ALL OVER this jam. He lays down a cool thematic idea around the 6:00 mark. At the time, the band is engaged in collective, free-form noodling. With the introduction of this latest motif, Phil moves the conversation onto a whole new tangent. It's not quite the falafel motif but it’s same basic concept. These off-accent 6/8 grooves represent an overriding mindset that Phil has on this tour. On their own they are quite exceptional – what makes them even more special is how much the rest of the band enjoys latching on and taking them for a ride.

It's quite remarkable just how black the background is (thank you again Jeffery Norman and crew) and how forward Phil’s tone is in the mix during the Disc 3 Jam. Equally as amazing is how respectful the audience is for this (and every European) performance. It’s so quiet in the cafeteria that you can hear more beer bottles clinking at 9:08. Wow – they really take this Jam to the outer reaches of deep space. As a dear friend of mine would say...thrice as nice!

Minute 14:00 brings us a loose interpretation of Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov's Flight of the Bumblebee. Having a nimble set of fingers on the keys creates the potential for interesting melodic moments like this. It was unthinkable to expect similar expressions before Keith's arrival in the band. Moreover, it wasn't until Bruce Hornsby's stint in the 90's that such interludes were remotely possible yet again.

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The students of Aarhus University are greeted with a kinder, gentler entrance to The Other One. The unusually delicate nature of The Other One introduction stands in stark contrast to the hard-hitting, probing Jam that proceeded it.

Interestingly, The Other One theme is woven throughout the fabric of the extended transitory sequence, however the song structure itself only plays a minor part in the final, tailored product that is Disc 3. In fact, it isn't until approximately 20 minutes into the musical menagerie that Bobby slips in the lone first verse of The Other One. The lyric serves almost as an afterthought to the harmonic concepts linking the different songs in the Second Set exploration.

Looking back at the tour as a whole, it is clear that the Aarhus Other One-Me & My Uncle-Other One is merely a dress-rehearsal for the "real deal" that comes further down the road...how's that for some blatant foreshadowing?

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After a brief Phil & Billy duet introduction, the band springs into a lilting and nimble Not Fade Away. As I referenced earlier, the Stakladen performance has a small-room feel to it – much like seeing regulars gig at your neighborhood dive bar. The room acoustics, the general proximity of the band members to you and each other in the sound stage – everything feels tighter and more intimate...

Take for example the two-plus minute span that begins with a pair of snare shots at 3:16 of the first Not Fade Away jam. Jerry settles into a triplet feel around the 7th fret of his Nash Strat like dropping into a well-worn, comfortable couch. Billy rolls up alongside with own story to tell. Brother Phil then punctuates the conversation with a set of corpulent accents at 3:32, to which Jerry happily replies with his own sliding country licks at 3:46. All the while, Keith, Bobby and Pigpen patiently shovel the coal to keep the rhythmic engine fires burning and the train a-rollin'...

Upon reading my initial notes, I went back and listened again to the aforementioned segment in a high quality near-field monitoring environment (at a decent decibel level I might add). Closing my eyes, I felt like I was standing directly in front of the stage. The many years and thousands of miles melted away before me. All that remained was the Grateful Dead – live – in my face and ears – thumping at my chest. I was completely enveloped by the music – blissful. In that ecstatic state, I think I might have even kicked over a beer bottle or two.

...

With yet another Jungian archetypal reference – this time a brief Mountain Jam interjection from Jerry at 5:33 – we trip into a delightful Goin' Down The Road Feelin' Bad. Enjoy Jerry's playful triplet idea at the 1:44 mark – and the sudden surge of band-wide energy at 3:30. They were most certainly living in the moment – moving, breathing and functioning as a single cohesive body politic.

Jerry rides his Nash Strat atop another wave of over-reverbed, West Coast surf tone onto the beaches of the Not Fade Away reprise. As Bobby & Pigpen delight the audience with more primal call and response, Jerry offers up one last music thought for the night– a cool, repetitive counter-melody in the upper register at 1:53.

The charged, loose, almost sloppy close to the show is befitting the small venue experience. As the third and final disc fades into our collective memories, the generally reserved Stakladen crowd is left cheering and shouting for more, more, more! No encore is needed nor delivered – what more is there to say?

And so we leave the cozy comfines of the Aarhus University cafeteria – back down the road to Copenhagen for a date with a Danish television audience. As always, thank you for reading. Stay cool, stay focused and by all means stay tuned!

© Aaron Miller – 2011

Europe '72: Tivoli Concert Hall, Copenhagen, Denmark (4/14/1972)

This stop at the Tivoli Concert Hall is the first pre-booked gig of the tour – the opening concerts at Wembley Arena were last minute changes (after the Rainbow Theater shuttered its doors weeks before) and the 4/11 show was a logical addition, given that the ferry to Denmark leaves from Newcastle.

It's clear from the opening chords of Bertha that the band is enthused and focused. It's also readily apparent that the acoustics of the Tivoli Concert Hall are worlds better than that of the first two venues on the tour. Whereas Wembley Arena sounded compressed, forced and forward - and Newcastle damp, congested and weighty - Tivoli is loose, airy and flowing - providing the band with space for movement. The room decay is natural and pleasing [e.g. the tom intros to Mr. Charlie and Black Throated Wind], the vocal blend is tighter and the instruments have a warm and inviting tone. All of this translates into a more energetic performance from the boys. Perhaps the renewed energy also stems from the band finally getting out of the UK and into one of the more intimate venues they were originally scheduled to play. In this way, Tivoli was a little taste of home away from home.

The Bertha is standard for this era – by which I mean nimble, full of energy and ripping. The Me & My Uncle features a quick tempo, solid lead work from Jerry and strong vocals from Bobby...thankfully his laryngitis has cleared (jet lag and screaming through a few One More Saturday Night encores will take its toll).

Keith's playing in the first set must be highlighted - he's absolutely tearing it up. He's very low in the mix (this goes back to what Jeffrey Norman was discussing at the AES Convention - see my earlier blog post for more details), so you have to listen closely but MY WORD it is certainly worth paying attention to. Here are some first set Keith highlights for your consideration:

* His use of 7th chords and syncopated interplay between his right and left hands in Mr. Charlie is amazing - the rhythmic foundation he lays down makes for a very funky, chunky rendition of this Pigpen classic.

* Keith's solo in You Win Again - wow! Stop for a moment and appreciate the subtlety, nuance and comfort with which the Dead dispatch this traditional country swing song. It’s uncanny for an American rock band - especially one so rooted in psychedelic flights of fancy and raunchy, thunderous R&B. [In fact, name another band from 1972 that could move effortlessly from a Hank Williams country swing to up-tempo bluegrass, through a half-hour mind expanding musical experiment and a assortment of pop songs in the course of a single evening.] Give this You Win Again a couple of listens – dig deep. Listen closely to Bobby and Keith’s cadenced relationships and the tasteful phrasing of Jerry's vocals and guitar licks.

* Chinatown Shuffle – there is something about this recording and this room that sets the stage perfectly for Keith to shine. The Tivoli offers us a natural, grand piano sound – one that's open, uncongested – one that floats effortlessly in the overall soundstage. This Chinatown Shuffle demonstrates Keith as the consummate listener and interpreter of his band mate's ideas. For example, notice how he emulates the triplet feel from the end of Jerry's solo and seamlessly slides it into the opening phrase of his own solo.

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The Europe '72 tour features a host of excellent stage banter - and this night in Copenhagen has one of my favorite threads sewn through it. Before the start of You Win Again, Phil tells the audience that they don’t need to clap in unison; that they (the band) won’t necessarily play a song in that tempo. Jerry and Bobby add (in keeping with their purist, free-wheeling sensibilities) that the audience can do whatever they want to. Bobby then asks by a show of hands, how many people in the crowd can understand what they're saying – apparently not many. So, not only has the audience never heard this music before, they don’t even comprehend the group's basic efforts to communicate. The Danish audience is undeterred and the unified applause returns after the following song...(to be continued)

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Loser is a primer in the concept of dynamics. As Jeffrey Norman discussed at AES , the fact that the microphones were run direct to tape and given the minimal amount of compression used in the mixing/mastering processes, the overall product is extremely dynamic. In Loser we experience the gamut - from the low, empty spaces of the verses [listen to the decay of Jerry's voice and the snare drum], up to the booming crescendo of the refrain “Last fair deal in the country!”

** Side note: Sweet Suzie lives. Much like a baseball geek memorizes statistics about his favorite team, I too find myself combing the aural records of the Dead, in search of meaningless minutia. One such quest is to find the last Loser where Jerry mentions "Sweet Suzie" in the refrain. I know she passes away soon after this tour (although I've heard rumors that she made a brief appearance decades later)...any further insight you might have into this maddening pursuit is always welcome. **

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The Me & Bobby McGee features Bobby and Keith fusing into a single, four-armed rhythmic creature - as they trade-off right and left hand responsibilities. Jerry showcases excellent pinched harmonics at the 2:10 mark and some more open-chord banjo finger picking at 5:20. During the sing-song refrain, check out the 3 vs. 4 tension manifested by Keith and Phil - and the cut-time interplay between Phil's bass and Billy's snare/ride cymbal combo.

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Meanwhile, back to the fantastic banter thread...The audience returns to the synchronized clapping after Me & Bobby McGee. Phil may have given the crowd a stern talking-to earlier in the set but it's Bobby who rises to their defense, grabbing onto their pulse - kicking right into a brisk Cumberland Blues intro. You can almost see their beaming smiles as the rest of the band follows suit. Yet another prime example of the humor and imagination in the Grateful Dead’s music and stage presence.

Never mind the novelty of the scenario - this Cumberland is hot! The Tivoli's acoustics provide a perfect canvas for the vocal harmonies and the band pays worthy tribute to their folksy, acoustic roots. Jerry’s flat-picking solos get more aggressive and sharper with each passing verse and by the second go-round in minute 2:00 he’s just flying! It's no 4/8 Cumberland but it'll do just fine, thank you very much.

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Disc 1 closes with another solid Playin' In The Band - it's a little rough to start but it opens up into a solid intermezzo jam. The 4/14 Playin' is thick, rhythmic and driving. Unlike much of the first set, there's not a lot of perceivable air in between the instruments. On the contrary, the music has a weighty feel - like a dense, dark mass hurtling through space.

The tritone dissonant chord presentation at the 4:20 mark, Keith's 10-note chord forms mixed throughout, and Jerry's tasty "tiger melt-down" just before the reprise in the 7th minute are highlights of this Playin'. In addition, Billy’s interpretation of the 10-figure in between verses is remarkable – and certainly worth a deeper listen. Take some time and scan back through these interludes a few times. Also, his cymbals during the resolution in the 9th minute provide more evidence of the Tivoli's acoustic signature.

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The Tennessee Jed from 4/14 is the best of the tour. The slow crescendo developed in the jam section is simply epic!

Big Boss Man - Check out the little two-step drum fills as they turn into the second go-around of Jerry’s solo. Billy is locked in...deep in the pocket.

Bobby calls out a "Baker's Dozen" for the intro of Beat It On Down The Line. His pronouncement is off-mic and very low in the mix but if you pay close attention you can hear it. Yet another reason to crank up the volume (as if you needed any more)...

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Rumor has it that one of the working titles for this box set was Europe '72 - Spring of the Stand-Alone Shit-Kicking Truckin' ;) Although someone in the marketing department of GDP shot down the idea, the sentiment is more than understandable...and the 4/14 second set opener bears witness. The jam after the first "Going home" verse is vibrant and riddled with potency.

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The Brown-Eyed Women is an excellent example of Phil's round, cutting bass tone and his unique roll as a third part harmony instrument. In this way, Phil Lesh is unlike any other bass player in rock and roll history. In the 3rd minute, from the resolution of the bridge straight through the next verse, you can very hear some very cool counter-melody work from Phil.

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The final Looks Like Rain of the tour puts a bookend on the offerings of Disc 2. Phil's high harmony is stunning, especially in the "Stray cats" verse. We are treated to one last foray into the brilliance of Jerry's pedal steel - his solo is completely in control, tasteful and (in my humble opinion) perfect. The interaction between the pedal steel guitar, piano and organ from the 2:00 mark on is emotional, evocative and still gives me chills...even after several listens.

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The other working title rumored for consideration of this release was Europe '72 - Just Skip to Disc 3. Granted, this suggestion makes complete sense but the "powers that be" felt there were far too many Disc 1 & 2 highlights throughout the tour to move forward with this title.

With that said...Disc 3 of Tivoli 4/14 opens with a very interesting 29+ minute Dark Star. One that demonstrates with great clarity the breadth of the Grateful Dead's musical vocabulary and myriad skills. In particular the 4/14 Tivoli Dark Star highlights their innate facility for what I refer to as "group-think-improvisation" and "thematic improvisation."

The opening 8 minutes of Dark Star are fairly routine, with the band introducing the primary melodic and harmonic structures of the composition. Then in the 9th minute we hear staccato call and response ideas bandied between Jerry and Billy...and with the genesis of that simple musical relationship the "group-think" process has begun. Keith joins the fray with some upper-register staccato ideas of his own - in direct response to the melodic ideas presented by Jerry.

At the 10:15 mark Phil establishes a variation of the 12-beat (7 vs. 5) motif that grabs Bobby's attention. Within a few more measures, the anchor has been set and the rest of the band has vectored on a new tangent. Minutes 11:00 through 17:00 takes us through a complete mixolydian meltdown - with some tasty interchanges between Keith and Jerry in minute 12:00 - and various themes represented (most notably an obvious Sugar Magnolia tease just before the return of the main theme and Jerry's first verse lead vocal - see if you can pick it out).

With the arrival of minute 19:00 we are treated to another cut-time groove offered up by Billy (he seems enamored with these alla breve jams - they have popped up throughout the first four shows of the tour). This is where things get really interesting...

Ladies and gentlemen allow me to present to you the Grateful Dead's completely contrived and yet thoroughly serendipitous musical concept of "thematic improvisation." Perhaps the best way I can describe it is by means of some random anecdotal evidence...

The other day while walking in Manhattan I passed by a gentleman wearing an IDF (Israeli Defense Forces) hat. It didn't strike me at the time but as I entered the subway at 53rd and 5th I started thinking about the summer I spent in Israel as a teenager and this amazing falafel stand just off of King David Street in Jerusalem. Before long, I had decided to change my initial plan - bail on Penn Station and stay on the E train a few extra stops to hit Mamoun's Falafel in Greenwich Village. Mind you, I wasn't even hungry before I saw the hat but within minutes I had subconsciously changed my course of action and was soon mowing through a delicious falafel sandwich...I digress...

(With the arrival of minute 19:00 we are treated to another cut-time groove offered up by Billy)...this alla breve groove is appropriated by Phil and by the time minute 20:00 rolls around his downward-moving chromatic theme (floating in thought between a Mind Left Body Jam and Uncle John's Band) from the previous night is front and center of this Dark Star jam. [It's at this point that I wish I could sing into my blog to mimic Phil's baseline - however, the motif is so distinct, if you drop the proverbial needle at the 21:00 mark, I'm confident it will jump out of your stereo and punch you in the eye.] By 21:39 the full chord voicing is developed by Bobby and the band is suddenly toying with that odd, strangely familiar movement from Newcastle.

Who knows exactly what Phil heard/saw/felt/smelled/tasted that keyed this musical memory from the 4/11 concert...and for that matter, who cares? I just find it fascinating how Jerry's "Morse Code Jam" from the 4/8 Wembley Arena Dark Star was introduced by Phil during the 4/11 Newcastle Truckin' and developed into an "almost but not quite" Uncle John's Band groove. And then three nights later, the 4/11 Uncle John's Band-ish groove is reanimated by Phil and transmogriphied into yet another unique yet vaguely recognizable offering for us in Tivoli...and by 21:51 we’re deep into...Phil's Falafel Jam!

Tonight the passage has more structure - the band runs through the chord changes in a sequence of four rotations - hinting at a resolution after each quadrant. It feels as if they are ambivalent about resolving the tension. Musically, it makes sense to complete the thought, wrap it up and move on. In fact, the progression is structured in such a way that resolution is almost impossible to resist. However, I get the sense that the band wants to hold onto the idea as long as they can...

Like a bird in a gilded cage, the thematic improvisation is trapped, yet free to sing, grow, move and take itself and the band to higher, only dreamed of reaches...so long as the cage (the moment) remains closed (in the present). As soon as the cage door is opened, the idea will certainly fly away...and there is a risk it will not return. And yet, the door must be opened because something so beautiful was never meant to be held captive. It's the risk every performer must take. Such is the nature of live improvised music.

Vis-à-vis this stylized, thematic improvisation, the Grateful Dead are evolving as a band writ large before their audiences' very eyes, ears and hearts - developing musical ideas and contextual landscapes on both inter- and intra- performance levels.

The tension from the thematic passage lasts and lasts - with its eventual resolution into a two-chord vamp jam around minute 25:00, once again reminding us that we're still within Dark Star. All shreds of the chromatic-tether-to-reality structure have been stripped away and we're adrift in free-form space by the second half of the 25th minute. Bended minor 2nd figures from Bobby and pinched harmonic, wah-wah infused madness from Jerry takes us through the 28th minute...

A total melt-down of time, signature and key ensues and at 29:18 we are greeted with a prelude to the Sugar Magnolia on deck. You can tell that Bobby has turned to face Billy's drum kit as he chunks out the march-like opening rhythm of Sugar Magnolia on his semi-hollow body Gibson ES-345.

Here we find ourselves at the end of a 29+ minute exploratory Dark Star and seemingly out of nowhere Bobby's hints and teases come to fruition and we're dropped right into Sugar Magnolia...with Jerry still holding onto some of the spacey weirdness. While the rest of the band has fully embarked on the Sugar Mags, Jerry's Dark Star persists. The way he gradually morphs his eerie, bended figures straight into an A-major country swing is simply brilliant!

Another stellar example of vintage Grateful Dead musical juxtaposition. Much like in a dream – two almost seemingly incongruous thoughts or mind-spaces (a chaotic, time-bending Dark Star and a beautiful, uplifting Sugar Magnolia) are thrust together. Scene 1!–CUT!–Scene 2! And yet as diametrically opposed as these ideas might seem when considered alone…the amalgamation makes complete sense in the dream-like state of a Grateful Dead concert. Furthermore, it is only upon waking from the dream that the dreamer is capable of comprehending the absurd beauty of the fused perceptions as present therein.

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A relatively lack luster Sugar Magnolia slides right into Phil's ubiquitous Good Lovin' intro. Pigpen cruises through the opening verses and chorus and Jerry's Dom7-flat9 chord drops us headfirst into the jam section...

* We get a Caution tease from Jerry at the 7:30 mark

* Bobby doing his best Keith Richards imitation at 9:25. Take a listen and tell me that isn't the signature chord-strut from Can't You Hear Me Knockin'? - nice!

* Also check out Bobby playing a half-time Good Lovin' intro theme against the cut-time of Billy’s drums at 15:46

Pigpen is still with us and the Good Lovin’s and Caution's of this tour harken back to a more raw (quite frankly) sloppy Grateful Dead - loose, boozed-up, drugged-out bluesy mayhem. By the spring of 1972 the Dead have certainly started to evolve beyond their impulsive R&B foundations but Pigpen keeps them rooted in that earthy, musical sty. The "musical ghetto" of the blues. The anchor that Pigpen represents is a double-edged sword of sorts. The musical ghetto of the blues is where the Grateful Dead came from and yet by April 1972 this band wanted to soar - it wanted to fly to new uncharted heights. Pigpen was keeping them true to their roots but in doing so, he was also holding them back.

Europe '72 serves as Pigpen's swan song. He gave it all he had every night, leaving it all on the stage. Unbeknownst to them, it was also the band's opportunity to say farewell to Pig and everything he represented. Oddly enough, it stands as a tribute to Pigpen that soon after his demise (late 72 – early 73) the Grateful Dead's music took off at warp speed - rocketing in an unencumbered, jazzed-up, funky improvisational way. As sad as it was for his mates to lose their dear friend and only true front man, Pigpen in his passing allowed the band to be free. The bird in the gilded cage was liberated at last.

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Whereas normally it’s Phil's walking bass line that drags the band into Caution – at 4/14 Tivoli, it’s Jerry’s rolled guitar line that introduces the song. Jerry teased it earlier in Good Lovin' and here we go...

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The room acoustics are again laid bare in the tom tom introduction of Not Fade Away.

I’ve always said that certain instruments want you (almost compel you) to play a certain way or play certain songs. For instance my Telecaster begs me to play Johnny Cash tunes as soon as I strap her on. The Nash Strat wants Jerry to play the Not Fade Away riff...I’m convinced of it. There is something about the tone and feel of that guitar that is perfectly suited for the chunky, Bo Diddly beat of that classic song. Some of the effortless, bended pedal steel licks between minutes 1:10 – 1:30 serve as evidence to this symbiotic relationship.

There is a very cool sequence that starts at approximately 4:00 into the Not Fade Away jam. Jerry gives a deliberate chord cue that he's ready to move the band into the impending Goin' Down The Road Feeling Bad. Bobby interpolates Jerry's idea at 5:03 - flipping it on its head - turning it into his archetypal secondary lead from the China-Rider transition jam. I can picture the grin on Jerry's face as he grabs onto Bobby's gambit and lays his lead over top. Pure joy!
A solid Goin' Down The Road Feelin' Bad follows, only to have the band hesitantly stumble back into the Not Fade Away reprise – Oy!

The call and response vocals traded between Bobby and Pigpen at the end of the second Not Fade Away pay homage to the slave field songs from the Mississippi Delta that bore the blues, jazz and practically all American music to follow.

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Bobby and Billy offer up a tasty little James Brown shuffle just before the well-paced One More Saturday Night encore that closes the 4/14 Tivoli show. This rendition is chock full of Albert King styled, Chuck Berry licks from Jerry throughout. Certainly an all-to-familiar yet fitting way to end a very special evening in Copenhagen.

As always, thank you for reading. Stay cool, stay focused and by all means stay tuned! We're off to Aarhus – do me a favor and save me a spot in the cafeteria.


© Aaron Miller – 2011

Europe '72: City Hall, Newcastle, England (4/11/1972)

The liner notes for the 4/11 show describes City Hall in Newcastle as a dour, cement room with evenly space columns throughout. Certainly not an ideal performance environment. From the first few notes it's quite apparent that the band is struggling with the room - they are fighting the terrible acoustics - clearly the room is fighting back.

An interesting room - an even more interesting crowd. Newcastle, England is a port metropolis on the River Tyne, populated with folks affectionately referred to as "Geordies." A people with a rich history as hard working coal miners, dock hands, ship builders, heavy drinkers and brawlers with a unique, at times perplexing English dialect. The most excitement these blokes are accustomed to is rooting for their beloved Newcastle United footballers when they play the arch rivals Black Cats of Sunderland in the Tyne-Wearside Derby - or scrapping in the street after sucking down many a pint of the iconic brown ale that bears the city's name...

Enter this rag-tag band of hairy hippies from the west coast of the U.S. - with their long hair, tie-dyed amplifier covers and all the trappings of a gypsy caravan. In between the songs of the first set, if you pay close attention to the data collected by the single audience microphone, you will hear the Geordies slowly warm to the alien-music-invasion that has descended upon their fair city. In the same right, you will hear the band slowly warm to the environs (more about that in a moment)...

The show opens with a Greatest Story Ever Told that may be terribly out of tune but features an excellent extended jam at its close. A sluggish Deal follows and for a brief moment our prospects look dim that this afterthought of a gig, in a semi-hostile venue might let us down. Just in the nick of time, in swoops our unsuspecting hero Pigpen to revive the band with an energetic Mr. Charlie. With failing health and all, he lights a fire under his band mates...the boys flip the proverbial switch and we're off to the races.

There is some funny banter that precedes the Tennessee Jed - Bobby jokes that Jerry has telegraphed the next song by playing the signature Jed lick. But since the audience has never heard the song before - no harm, no foul.

The Big Boss Man that follows is a testament to the Grateful Dead's solidly planted roots as an R&B band. In particular, focus on the thick, rhythmic interplay between Keith, Bobby and Billy. Pigpen's lead vocal and harmonica work is dripping with blue-collared authenticity. The Nash Strat cuts through the groove with clarity and bite.

A laughable false start to Beat it on Down The Line brings a smile to my face, even after several listens. This band is tight, dialed-in and telepathically connected like nothing I've ever heard before - and yet they are able to maintain a looseness and uncanny sense of humor in their playing and on-stage demeanor.

Weir butchers the Jack Straw - we'll let him slide this time. He makes amends with a fantastic rendition later in the tour.

A fairly lack-luster first set turns on a dime with the China-Rider. The best way to describe this China-Rider is "workman-like." In fact, the entire show up to this point is gritty and workman-like...just like the venue, the town and its people. Check out Phil's mini-solo that starts in the later stages of minute 4:00 and climaxes at around the 5:15 mark of the China Cat - beyond excellent! Another fine example of Jerry's pedal steel feel and open banjo picking style can be heard during the 4th minute of the Rider.

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As I listened to the first set of 4/11/72 I was struck by a personal analogy from my days chasing the boys around North America. The Dead's experience playing in the cold, damp, dour musical mausoleum of Newcastle's City Hall was much like driving my 1978 Buick Estate Wagon up the New York State Thruway in the frigid, overnight hours March 21, 1990. She was slow at start up and fought my ever-pressing right foot as each tenth-mile marker passed. But then - almost magically - after 40 minutes on the road, her 348 cubic inch V8 warmed up and she found her RPM sweet spot. Together we hit critical mass, blew out the carbon from journey's past and VROOM! We were off...

...and here we find ourselves back in time, cruising aloft on a soaring China-Rider that lands us at the outset of 4/11/72 - Disc 2.

** Side Note: my folks and my mechanics told me that the Buick wasn't suitable for a round trip to Manhattan. Meanwhile, she made the four-day, 1000 mile round trip from Setauket, NY to Hamilton, Ontario without incident. **

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As is customary for my analysis of Playin' In The Band, I am drawn to Jerry's wonderfully sustained entrance into the jam section of the composition, which is far more subdued than the previous versions on the tour. At the outset, he positions his wah-wah pedal to achieve a low-pass filter effect on his tone. And so begins the deeper reaches of the 4/11 show...

There are fantastic examples of rhythmic teamwork in this Playin'. Keith is very present, filling in the holes left between Phil and Bobby's pops and accents. Dig Keith's cut-time right hand technique in the 4th minute, which Phil reintroduces in the 5th minute. Generally speaking, throughout the jam section Keith's right hand plays call-and-response with Jerry's lead; while his left hand remains in-step with Bobby's rhythm. More so than earlier in the set, the entire band is really feeling it - playing well within each other's spaces and movements.

All of this thematic interplay climaxes in the later stages of the 6th minute, from which they plateau and then gently glide back towards the introductory Playin' 10-figure. This soft landing is beautifully represented by a cascading waterfall of open-voiced sus2 arpeggios in Keith's right hand.

Just before the Playin' reprise, dig on Phil's D-Dom7 arpeggios - now that's power!

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Here are a couple of "items" to check out during the subsequent handful of songs:

Next Time You See Me - I love the juxtaposition of this chunky, roots R&B tune immediately following an iconic psychedelic rock anthem. Jerry's neck-position pickup delivers a full-bodied, rounded, upper midrange tone for his solo.

Looks Like Rain - Focus on the last few measures of Jerry's pedal steel solo. The melodic and harmonic structures are simple and yet simply stunning. He reprises these harmonic ideas at the 6:20 mark of the outro section. Also, pay heed to the counter-melody of Phil's bass in the solo section.

** Side Note: I wonder if these Geordies have ever seen, let alone heard a pedal steel guitar before. **

Big Railroad Blues - Listen to Billy at 2:10 and beyond of the solo section, how he keeps turning over the beat. Fantastic use of the ride cymbal for accenting and syncopation.

Good Lovin' - I love the tasty little intro Billy offers on the snare rim and the bell of the ride cymbal. He gradually lures Phil into his powerful signature bass figure. After the Dom7-flat9 chord that drops us into the jam section (minutes 3:00 - 4:00), check out the syncopation between Jerry's guitar and Billy's snare/ride cymbal combo.

Jerry loosens up a lot during the jam and in the 7th minute he introduces some of those interesting triplet, suspended leads often featured in Dark Star and Playin'. We then get some more open banjo picking at the 9:35 mark.

Ramble on Rose - Keith's playing is playful and replete with whimsy. Check out the totality of his right-hand work that starts during the introductory measures and carries straight through the first bridge. In addition, pay attention to Keith's Über-honky-tonk chord melodies that support Jerry's bouncing, energy-filled first solo. Fantastic!

As I mentioned in my blog post after the AES Convention panel, a single transducer microphone was used to record Keith's piano. Even with this limiting factor working against him, Jeffrey Norman's superb mixing enables Keith to shine on the 4/11 production.

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A charged Truckin’ opens Disc 3, with Jerry showcasing his phrasing skills with innovative intra-verse fills and licks. Interestingly, the band completely chunks the peak of the first iconic crescendo but they continue to maintain a high energy level even after the misstep. This example of musical persistence (which borders on stubbornness) highlights one aspect of the Dead's playing from this era that I find endearing. Namely, even when they miss a big hit (like they did with the climax in this Truckin'), they don't get discouraged. Instead, they keep fighting - seemingly motivated by the flub - as if offended by their own error.

Right after the reprise of the "Going Home" verse the band falls off the edge into an Other One'esque jam...and there's still 10 minutes to go in the song...very cool.

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The jam out of Truckin', through the Drums and Other One is the apex of the 4/11 performance and deserves a closer look...

Minutes 12:00 - 14:00 of the Truckin' jam lays bare vintage Grateful Dead collective/individual improvisation. They're each doing their own thing - Keith is in his Cecil Taylor mode, Bobby's playing with fragments of his iconic two-note-bended-rhythmic figure (which you can still hear today at a Furthur show), while everyone else is cruising along unencumbered by the conventional constructs of group improvisation...

...and then in the 13th minute Billy and Phil marshal together a tasty motif that loosely resembles an amalgamation of a groove. It's not that the band grabs hold of the idea - it's more akin to an origami boat catching and moving with the subtle currents and eddies of a gently rolling rivulet. Check out the Winton Kelly styling offered up by Keith during this stretch of music - a la Kind of Blue.

Also, dig on the rhythmic illustration introduced by Phil at the 15:35 mark – a carry over from the "Morse code" concept offered by Jerry during the previous show's (4/8) Dark Star. It’s a structure of 12 beats – a 7 and a 5. In actuality it's an oddly accented 6/8 idea that has more of a 12 "feel," given how Billy and Phil are accenting the time signature.

The band toys with time, melody and harmony until all is melted down. Just before the Drums section begins, the Other One theme is briefly referenced. It's clear that Billy's Drums is merely a prelude to the massive The Other One which is just around the corner.

After a solid 4 minute introduction, Jerry unhinges the groove with a series of parallel octave phrases (a concept I usually associate with Bobby) and after a minute or so they are back into the customary 6/8 cadence. The potency of the music ebbs and flows in two-minute intervals until the band lands firmly in the Other One groove at the 7:00 mark.

From a sonic standpoint, it’s remarkable just how black the background is during the quiet sections of this performance. Clearly, there’s still evidence of the inherent mechanical distortion that Jamie Howarth described at the AES Convention (see my earlier blog post for more details). But for the most part, you can crank up the decibel level on playback - there's a clean, dynamic presentation of the soundstage, stereo image and a spatial dimensionality between the instruments. Kudos again to the entire crew who made this production a reality.

My favorite part of this jam - a non-descript, chromatic movement down the major scale first appears at the 10:00 mark and is picked up in earnest at 11:30 - this Uncle John's Band(ish) motif dominates the next several minutes of the performance.

** Music Theory Side Bar: My beloved guitar teacher Ron Parmentier (may he rest in peace) explained that this downward chromatic movement was actually a continuous ii-V-I-ii-V-I movement up the scale. At its essence, this is the basis for all popular western music – you will find it throughout the Jazz Real Book, as well as the Beach Boys and Beatles repertoires. **

There’s a hint of resolution to the chromatic theme at 12:43 – you can feel that the band wants to end the tension and "turn it over" but the ii-V-I maintains. Finally, a minor chord resolution arrives at 13:45 to relieve the tension and return us to the tonic (in this case E).

Listen to Bobby’s very subtle strike of the Sugar Magnolia A7 chord at 14:03 - foreshadowing for things to come later in the set.

As the 14th minute progresses, we move gently into a very quiet finger picking respite from Jerry, reminiscent of Simon & Garfunkel's Sound of Silence.

Much in the same way Bobby's idea at 14:03 hints at Sugar Magnolia – in these quiet moments, Jerry's melodic phrasing and idea creation is pointing us towards the Comes a Time, whose arrival is imminent in the next 10-12 minutes.

From out of this idyllic scene develops a total melt-down into atonal space – feedback and all – punctuated by Phil’s staccato accents and chord bombs. The band slips into a few minutes of free-form improvisation...Billy announces his return to the stage with some basic hi-hat work at 20:01...the maddening din builds to a full crescendo by the end of the 20th minute...two semi-psychotic breaks from reality manifest in the 21st minute...By the beginning of the 22nd minute, Phil introduces a loosely theorized walking bass line, which turns into a quasi-Caution jam by 22:30...On second thought, there is nothing "quasi" about it – by the 23:00 mark we’re in a full-on Caution Jam – whether it’s listened in the liner notes or not – which Jerry turns over at 23:22 into the traditional Other One theme...and we've landed in the second verse by 25:00.

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After a quick resolution to The Other One, Jerry wastes no time and slides us right into the introductory chords of Comes a Time. Once again, I love the juxtaposition of the outrageously twisted, psychotic juggernaut of Other One, immediately followed by the beautiful, sorrowful, torch song ballad Comes a Time.

Without getting into too much theory, the chord progression and melody of Comes a Time speaks to Jerry’s intimate knowledge of the American Song Book (the collective works of composers such as Irving Berlin, Jerome Kern, Duke Ellington, Cole Porter, etc.). The beautiful lyric aside, Comes a Time offers us a primer in classic song-writing tension and resolution. In addition, it serves as a perfect example of a modified ii-V-I progression that I referenced earlier. The first verse is A – E – Bm – D – A (I-V-ii-iv-I).

The other thing I take away from Comes a Time – even in this early incarnation of the composition (it was first played 10/19/71) – is Jerry’s mastery of the three primary skills required of a guitar player. My beloved teacher Ron Parmentier (may he rest in peace) stressed that any player worth a damn should have the ability to play through the chord changes, play the melody and blow over the changes (i.e. improvise competently). Jerry nails all three facets in this Comes a Time. In particular, listen to how he evokes the gut-wrenching meaning of the lyric in his first pass over the melody.

The set closes with an energetic Sugar Magnolia that heats the Newcastle crowd to a rolling boil and one of only two versions of Brokedown Palace played on the tour. If you listen closely to the first verse of Brokedown you will hear "recognition applause." This is significant in that most of the show was comprised of songs foreign to the audience. Brokedown Palace on the other hand was featured on the celebrated studio album American Beauty, which was a hit in the U.K. The ubiquitous One More Saturday Night encore closes the evening's proceedings with a blast and we're off to catch the ferry to Denmark.

As always, thank you for reading. Stay cool, stay focused and by all means stay tuned...I'll see you in Copenhagen!

© Aaron Miller – 2011