The 500 - #120 - Sweetheart Of The Rodeo - The Byrds

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by New York-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.

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Album #: 120
Album Title: Sweetheart of the Rodeo
Artist: The Byrds
Genre: Country-Rock, Roots-Rock, Americana, Progressive Country
Recorded: Columbia Studios in Nashville and Los Angeles

Released: August, 1968
My age at release: 3
How familiar was I with it before this week: One song
Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #274, dropping154 places
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: One Hundred Years From Now

I am delighted to welcome back, for his third visit as a guest blogger, podcaster and writer of the My Life In Concerts media page, Various Artists. Enjoy.

The Byrds were never one of those bands that I “discovered”: they already existed fully-formed as a contemporary, thriving entity as my awareness of the world around me began to take shape in my later-1960s, childhood brain.

I loved how they sounded, with McGuinn’s chiming, jangling guitar, the gorgeous choirboy harmonies, the brilliant songwriting and interpretations, their musical adventurousness, the trippy folk rock sound, and also their supercool look via McGuinn’s fringe and granny glasses, David Crosby’s capes, and drummer Michael Clarke out-Brian-Jonesing Brian Jones with his barnet.

Michael Clarke with his "barnet" aka: hair. Barnet is cockney
rhyming slang, taken from the annual horse fair, held in Barnet, England.
Barnet fair = hair.

I was also very aware of them as my 12-year-old sister went along with her friends to scream at them when they played here at the London Arena in 1966. She loved the show. (I also only just now realized: my sister and I saw our first concert at the same age).

Concert poster for The Byrds show at the 
London Arena.

While I loved the band, I didn’t actually own a Byrds album until the early 80s. At that time, that 12-string Rickenbacker jangle sound had returned as a massive influence to indie and alternative rock in a big way. So many of my favourite bands of the time -- R.E.M., The Smiths, Orange Juice, Echo and the Bunnymen, and a bit later, The Grapes of Wrath -- were clearly indebted to The Byrds (and Big Star for most of them too) in their music. Most also actively championed California’s Five Mop Tops as an influence and sonic inspiration.

A 12-string, Model 360 guitar from the Rickenbaker manufacturer.

They first hit hard in the summer of 1965 with their innovative folk rock take on Bob Dylan’s Mr. Tambourine Man. As it turns out, that sense of innovation was a quality that the band never stopped embracing, leading to musical tangents and line-up fluctuations in the years ahead. The next few years saw them release a series of adventurous and increasingly psychedelic albums.

Album cover for Mr. Tambourine Man by The Byrds.

In the mid-80s, after purchasing Greatest Hits, a friend of mine who was already a Byrds nut taped most of their albums for me. It was then that I went deep into my own Byrdsmania, particularly loving the journey through their first six.

For those rare bands or artists who literally change the course of music, it is usually one of their greatest honours. Well, The Byrds changed the face of music THREE TIMES.

The Byrds' 1968 line-up, (l-r) McGuinn, Kevin Kelley, Gram
Parsons and Chris Hillman.

First, with their original folk rock hits which launched that genre and movement. The second time around, they became one of the premier California rock acts to go early and deep into psychedelic experimentation, with 1966’ Eight Miles High as one of the very first psychedelic hits.

Album cover for The Byrds' Eight Miles High.

And then there’s change number three which brings us to this week’s album: 1968’s Sweetheart of the Rodeo. Album number six was a sharp left turn into country music, but modern and infused with young people’s values and vibes.

They’d birthed folk-rock. Now they were birthing its cousin, country-rock.

By this time, three of the five original Byrds were gone (Gene Clark, David Crosby, and Michael Clarke) replaced by Kevin Kelly on drums and, much more importantly, Gram Parsons on guitars and keyboards.

The Byrds original line-up, (l-r) Crosby, Clark, Clarke, Hillman
and McGuinn.

At the time, Parsons was largely unknown. He himself had started exploring the country-rock synthesis with his own small-time group, the International Submarine Band. And indeed, a variety of artists had contemporaneously been exploring this genre merge with specific tracks: Buffalo Springfield, Mike Nesmith of The Monkees, even The Beatles and The Stones.

Gram Parsons, who appears three times on The 500 list, with
two bands (The Byrds and The Flying Burrito Brothers) and solo.

But Sweetheart of the Rodeo was a complete leap into the deep end. Initially, McGuinn’s vision for the album was going to be a survey of 20th Century American music, starting with bluegrass and country through jazz, R&B, etc. But it was the newly-installed Parsons who eventually swayed Roger and bassist Chris Hillman into making the record an all-country affair, blended with aspects of rock music and attitude.

Essentially, Parsons wanted to blend a variety of roots genres into what he named as Cosmic American Music.

Image from Robert Rubsum's 2017 article, Cosmic American Music.

The LP’s material ranged from traditional-to-recent country classics (I Am a Pilgrim, The Christian Life, Blue Canadian Rockies, Life in Prison, etc.) as well as countryfied folk (Pretty Boy Floyd) and R&B (You Don’t Miss Your Water). And since this is a Byrds' album, there is the requisite, and excellent, Dylan covers (You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere and Nothing Was Delivered) although here they were making their public debut as McGuinn sourced both of these songs from the then-unreleased Basement Tapes. (#292 on The 500 list).

The Basement Tapes album cover - a 1975 release from Bob Dylan
backed with members of The Band.

Then there were the two Parsons originals: One Hundred Years from Now and the classic Hickory Wind which he later re-recorded for his seminal and final album, Grievous Angel (#425 on The 500)

When I got that glut of Byrds cassettes in the ‘80s, Sweetheart was one of the first I played as I had read so much about it. I couldn’t have been introduced to it at a more perfect time. In that era, I was listening first to some country-inflected bands, particularly R.E.M., as well as some of the great country legends such as Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline, and Hank Williams along with some of the new, more left-field country artists such as Steve Earle, k.d. lang, Emmylou Harris, and Dwight Yoakam.

In hearing Sweetheart, I experienced the seed that flowered into a variety of more alternative country sounds and movements over the next several decades. I also rediscovered Gram Parsons. I knew who he was as my brother had some Flying Burrito Brothers albums in the early 70s, but had largely forgotten about him and them.

Album cover for The Flying Burrito Brothers, The Gilded Palace
of Sin, #192 on The 500.

I absolutely loved this album from first listen: the songs, the vocals, all the pedal steel and great playing, the whole feel and aesthetic. I went on to play it obsessively in the years ahead, buying the CD upon its ‘80s release and a deluxe version from this century. I still love it today.

A pedal steel guitar being played.

In and around this time, Pamela Des Barres released her landmark book, I’m With the Band: Confessions of a Groupie, of which Parsons is one of the key players. It all just seemed to be in the air at that time.

I'm With The Band: Confessions of a 
Groupie book by Pamela Des Barres.

As with most innovators and innovations, the wider audience is usually not prepared or open-minded enough to initially welcome such a deviation. Indeed, during the recording of this album, the band played a show at the Grand Ole Opry where they received a hostile reaction from the mainstream country audience.

Furthermore, when the album dropped in August 1968, it absolutely tanked (just like the two other very different albums from 1968 that Marc has had me write about: The Velvet Underground’s White Light/White Heat and The Kinks’ Village Green Preservation Society). 

Album cover for The Kinks' Village Green Preservation
Society (1968).

The band and album were essentially shot by both sides upon its release. Anything to do with country music couldn’t have been more toxic or undesirable to the hippie cognoscenti while the typical country audience saw them as long-haired hippie freak weirdo interlopers.

It resulted in SOTR being their lowest-charting and lowest-selling album to date. Initially.

Meanwhile, Parsons had already jumped ship two months before its release as the album vanished.

As it turns out, it was just slightly ahead of the curve. 1968 also saw a roots music revival countering psychedelia with the arrival of The Band’s debut, Music From Big Pink, as well as Bob Dylan’s John Wesley Harding and 1969’s Nashville Skyline, and back-to-roots albums by the Beatles and Stones.

Sweetheart’s influence began making an impact as the country rock genre surged in the ‘70s, with this album -- and Parsons’ post-Byrds career with the Burritos -- being its progenitors.

By that time, SOTR was retrospectively hailed as an influential classic, with its impact now spanning the decades, especially on the Outlaw and then Alt-Country movements.

What started as a commercial failure has become a consistent seller over the decades.

I put it on to relisten to it a few times before writing this piece and it still sounds so fresh, vibrant, and sparkling. Here’s a rodeo always worth attending.

The 500 - #204 - Modern Times - Bob Dylan

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: #204
Album Title: Modern Times
Artist: Bob Dylan

Genre: Folk Rock, Blues, Rockabilly, Americana
Recorded: Clinton Recording Studios, New York City, U.S.A.

Released: August, 2006
My age at release: 41
How familiar was I with it before this week: Not at all

Is it on the 2020 list? No
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Workingman Blues #2

The opening act, sometimes called the warm-up or supporting act, is a performer or ensemble who entertains a crowd at a concert in advance of the feature act or "headliner".  This can be a challenging gig. Opening acts are typically given a smaller area on the stage on which to work, which can mean a reduced light show and less sound equipment. This is because they often need to perform in front of the headlining band's equipment. Add to this the sporadic arrival of a disinterested, unenthusiastic audience and it is easy to understand how this might be disheartening.

The first large rock concert I attended was in the summer of 1980 when Van Halen came to London, Ontario. I wrote about the experience in 2020 in the context of their debut record (#415). At the time, I didn't know about, or expect, an opening act and was delighted when Canadian punk/garage rock band Teenage Head hit the stage. Much to my surprise, the audience quickly turned hostile. People around me began to boo and jeer and some even launched pennies and disposable lighters at the Hamilton-based quartet. My excitement soured to confusion and then discomfort as my 15-year-old brain came to terms with the darker side of an eighties, teenage rock and roll crowd.

Frantic City - the 1980 record from Teenage Head.

Fortunately, things have improved for opening acts. Technological advancements allow for easier and shorter transitions between performances. A larger stage can be provided and opening acts are promoted as a feature of the evening's entertainment, with some even billed as "co-headliners". In fact, there have been times when I attended a performance because of the opening act. One such example was detailed in a 2019 post when I shared the story of attending a Coldplay concert in Toronto in order to see their supporting act, Manchester's Elbow.

My ticket stub from the 2009 Coldplay/Elbow concert in Toronto.

In November, 2006, I got a chance to see Bob Dylan in my hometown of London, Ontario, thanks to the typical generosity of my pal and former guest blogger Steve "Lumpy" Sullivan who secured tickets to a private box through his industry connections. We were intrigued about seeing Dylan, an Oscar, Grammy and Golden Globe winning member of multiple Halls of Fame. However, we were more excited about the opening act -- Foo Fighters.

My ticket stub from the 2006 Dylan/Foo Fighters concert in London, Ontario.

Dylan was promoting his thirty-second studio release, Modern Times, a record marketed as the third part of a conceptual trilogy which began with 1998's Time Out Of Mind (#410 on The 500) and Love & Theft (#385) from 2001. It was received well by critics and it debuted at #1 on the Billboard charts, making Dylan the oldest living person to achieve this feat. All three records were heralded as an artistic comeback for Dylan, who had struggled to find his musical identity throughout the '80s and '90s.

The Dylan Trilogy, Time Out Of Mind (1998), Love And Theft (2001)
and Modern Times (2006).

As well, Foo Fighters, the American rock band formed in Seattle in 1994, were touring in support of their upcoming release – a live, acoustic recording dubbed Skin and Bones. The original five-piece band comprised Dave Grohl, guitars and vocals; Pat Smear, lead guitar; Chris Shiflett, guitars; Nate Mendel, bass; and Taylor Hawkins, drums. They were joined on stage by Rami Jaffee, Petra Haden and Drew Hester (playing piano, violin and percussion respectively).

Foo Fighters - Acoustic line-up - five of eight members shown.

Despite being a massively successful stadium act, Foo Fighters shouldered a heavy load of criticism from music fans. Many found their brand of up-tempo hard rock a bit formulaic and repetitive. A friend once said to me: "Every song sounds the same and Grohl isn't a good singer -- if it wasn't for his success as a drummer with Nirvana (his legendary first band with three albums on The 500) we wouldn't have ever heard of them."

Nirvana (Grohl on left).

I disagree with that opinion. Grohl has written some terrific and radio-friendly hits (Best Of You, Everlong, Times Like These, Learn To Fly, Big Me). Furthermore, the band (particularly Grohl and the late Taylor Hawkins) brought incredible positivity, enthusiasm and joy to their performances - not to mention philanthropy. Grohl clearly loves what he does and the high-energy Foo shows are punctuated by his levity and unbridled passion. Grohl was, in my opinion, destined to be a rock star ... and he clearly loves every minute of it.

Lumpy, my wife, Angela, and I had passed on an opportunity to see Grohl and his Foo Fighters  in New York City the previous summer.  We were there with 40 friends and family for Angela’s and my wedding. Foo Fighters were playing at The Beacon Theatre, but we opted to attend an event called Rock and Roll Karaoke at Arlene's Grocery in the Lower East Side (a story I shared in a 2021 blog post). Consequently, when the final note of Everlong rang through the John Labatt Centre in London on that November evening in 2006, Lumpy and I were on our feet in riotous applause.

About thirty minutes later, Dylan and his four-piece band hit the stage, opening with his 1965 hit, Maggie's Farm. It was one of a handful Dylan songs with which I was familiar – at the time. However, it was unrecognizable. Dylan had taken up an unusual arrangement which deceptively hid the original melody. He was positioned at a piano, stage left, and faced his band -- Doug Lancio, guitar; Tony Garnier, bass; Jim Keltner, drums; and Bob Britt, guitar. He  remained there for the entire 16-song set, never once playing guitar or singing at centre stage or even addressing the audience. Would "Hello, London" be too much to ask?

Dylan and his band -- if we got a wave from Dylan, I missed it.

Don't get me wrong. The musicianship was incredible and I was entertained, but his interaction with the audience was disappointing. In retrospect, I would have enjoyed the show much more now that I am familiar with more of his songs -- many from the aforementioned trilogy.

Comparing the two groups revealed a weird juxtaposition -- the somber, seemingly dour Dylan contrasting starkly with the high-energy, ebullient Grohl who punctuated his set with London-centric jokes and amusing stories and anecdotes - including one about his guitarist, Nate Mendel, encountering Bolognese sauce at the catering table and assuming it had bologna in it.

I am still not sure why the two acts were paired together. Throughout the show, Grohl made it clear that he and his band were delighted to be opening for "a legend". In an interview on VH1 Storytellers, Grohl  said Dylan was a fan of the  band, particularly their song Everlong. I suppose that is the difference. The Foo Fighters are entertainers first and musicians second. Dylan is pure musician.

The 500 - #230 - Nick Of Time - Bonnie Raitt

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: #230
Album Title: Nick Of Time
Artist: Bonnie Raitt
Genre: Rock, Americana, Blues-Rock
Recorded: Three Studios, Hollywood, California, U.S.A. 

Released: March, 1989
My age at release: 23
How familiar was I with it before this week: Very

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at 492, dropping 262 spots since 2012
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Have A Heart

Nick Of Time was the tenth studio record by American singer, songwriter and guitarist Bonnie Raitt. It is also the second of two records by her on The 500 list. I wrote about her 1972 record, Give It Up, nearly five years

When I re-read my post from 2019, I confronted a wide range of emotions I suspect were similar to an adult looking back on his own school work or photographs. For instance:

• Embarrassment. The writing is pedestrian and seems to have been written without much editing. Granted, it was my fifth post on this 10-year journey. I was still treading water, feeling my way. Additionally, at that time, my father hadn't come on board to give my copy a once-over. His suggestions have improved my writing and perhaps more importantly, he serves as "first reader". His comments about the album of the week help me understand the perspective of someone less familiar with the music or artists in question.
• Satisfaction. I remind myself that 270 records are now in the rearview mirror, and that my writing style and approach to my posts have improved significantly.
• Frustration. The story I chose to share on my Give It Up post would have made more sense being shared here. It would also have been better written.
• Amusement. In 2019, I set the ambitious goal of writing about two records a week. That pace helped me catch-up to The 500 Podcast, which began four months ahead of me. However, it was ultimately unsustainable and I am glad I lowered my weekly output to one.

• 

  Album cover for Give It Up, #495 on The 500.

Such is the unsettling or pleasing consequence of looking back. As I mentioned in that 2019 post, Nick Of Time was Raitt's biggest commercial breakthrough. It came at the end of the lowest point in her career and life. In 1983, Raitt had been released from her record company (Warner Brothers) because of dissatisfaction with her record sales. The record she had just recorded and mastered (edited and produced), Tongue And Groove, was shelved by the executives. Additionally, she was struggling with a drug and alcohol addiction.

Bonnie Raitt (early 80s).

Raitt continued touring to pay the bills and support her partying lifestyle. However, as crowds dwindled, she could no longer afford her backing band and the group was dissolved. Further frustrating Raitt was Warner Brothers  decision to release her Tongue and Groove record with the new title, Nine Lives. It received little press and Raitt was now promoting a record over which she had little control. This exacerbated her substance abuse and plunged her deeper into depression.

Album cover for the Nine Lives album.

Pop star Prince was a fan of Raitt's and invited her to his studio, Paisley Park in Minneapolis, with the promise of a record contract. The gesture was derailed by a skiing accident which hospitalized her for two months. However, the silver lining  was that her convalescence gave her a new perspective on life and she began attending Alcoholic Anonymous meetings -- which she now credits with her nearly 40 years of sobriety.

Raitt continued to tour as a solo performer in order to stay afloat. In late 1987, she joined singers k.d. lang and Jennifer Warnes as the background vocalists for one of my favourite television specials, Roy Orbison and Friends: Black and White Night. It was a highly acclaimed concert film, featuring a who's who list of performers who have multiple records on The 500 list, including Bruce Springsteen (8), Elvis Costello (4), Jackson Brown (3) and Tom Waits (3).

Promotional Poster for 30th Anniversary release
of Roy Orbison Black and White Night DVD.

At about the same time, Raitt connected with now legendary songwriter and producer Don Was. The pair collaborated on several recordings and, in 1989, Raitt signed a new contract with Capitol Records. Her sobriety, hard work and the positive connections she had built in the music industry led to her breakout album, Nick Of Time, in 1989. At the age of 40, her eight-year journey of perseverance and success paid off, in the "nick of time".

Raitt in 1989.

I was fortunate to see Raitt in October, 2023 when she came with her band to my hometown of London, Ontario, on her Just Like That Tour. The opening act was the Juno-nominated multi-instrumentalist, singer and songwriter Royal Wood.

Promotional photo for the London show of Raitt's tour.

It was a marvelous performance and I am so happy that we were able to attend with our good friends, Terry and Heather. As I watched, I couldn’t help but reflect on the journey that brought her to our town that night. Raitt’s story of perseverance is a valuable lesson for us all when we face adversity – whether it comes from without or within.

A photo I took at the October 5, 2023, curtain call for 

Raitt and Royal Wood and their bands

The 500 - #264 - Workingman's Dead - Grateful Dead

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: #264
Album Title: Workingman’s Dead
Artist: Grateful Dead
Genre: Americana, Roots Rock, Folk Rock, Blues Rock
Recorded: Pacific High Recording, San Francisco, U.S.A.
Released: June, 1970
My age at release: 4
How familiar was I with it before this week: One song
Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #409, dropping 145 spots since 2012
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Uncle John’s Band

Workingman's Dead was the fourth studio album (and fifth overall) released by the American rock band Grateful Dead. It was recorded in only nine days, along with all the material that would become their next record, American Beauty (#261 on The 500). It marked a departure from the psychedelic sound heard on their previous records. The group had been influenced by the Bakersfield Sound, a sub-genre of country music developed in the mid-late 1950s.

American Beauty - coming up in three weeks

Times were tough for Grateful Dead in the early '70s. They had accumulated massive debt while recording their previous record, Aoxomoxoa, and their former manager, Lenny Hart (father of drummer Mickey Hart) had disappeared with the band’s revenue (about $155,000) from their recent tour. Additionally, the band was facing potential jail time after a drug bust in New Orleans. "In the midst of all this adverse stuff that was happening ... [recording the album] was definitely an upper," said lead singer and guitarist Jerry Garcia in an interview about the record.

Jerry Garcia (early 70s)

To recoup costs and pay their debts, Grateful Dead embarked on a busy tour schedule in 1970, playing more than 100 nights. The group had already become legendary for their live performances and that year cemented their reputation.

Unfortunately, I turned down the opportunity to see Grateful Dead perform live. However, my friend, Joram Ditor, did not and I was fortunate to recruit him as a guest writer this week. My wife and I met Joram and his wife Somia in the late 90s through mutual friends and we would catch-up regularly to see live music at The Brunswick Hotel in London, Ontario. 

Enjoy his post.

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I was introduced to the Grateful Dead by a true fan and real Deadhead, Greg. I met Greg while at Western University, in my hometown of London, Ontario. In the early nineties, his car was easy to spot, a yellow Toyota MR2 Turbo with SHKDWN plates.

A Toyota MR2 Turbo (not Greg's)

I was surprised to learn how many Grateful Dead-themed plates, in Ontario had already been taken. Greg had tried for several – DEDHED? No. GRTFLDD? No. What about just GRTFL? No. After going through his list of choices, he was finally able to select plates inspired by the 1978 song and album Shakedown Street. He would, understandably, get upset when someone assumed it was from the Bob Seger song, Shakedown which appeared on the soundtrack to the 1987 movie, Beverly Hills Cop II.

Shakedown Street album cover

I spent a lot of time at Greg’s apartment listening to various Grateful Dead shows, absorbing the culture and eventually becoming a fan, or Deadhead, myself. Like many Deadheads, Greg had travelled across Canada and the United States to follow the group on tour many times during the preceding few years. After hearing his stories, he had no trouble convincing me to join him on their upcoming tour in the summer of 1993, along with his friend, fellow Deadhead, Jay.

Grateful Dead ticket stub from the show

Greg and Jay were going to travel with the band and the plan was for me to meet them at the last stop before they came home...Rich Stadium in Orchard Park, New York. The venue, home to the Buffalo Bills Football club, held 65,000 people for concerts – plus there were thousands who would camp out in the surrounding parking lots, having gone there even without tickets for that particular show. That’s the thing about Deadheads, they travel from show to show regardless of whether they have a ticket. If they can’t gain admission, they make the most of the experience in the parking lot then move on to the next venue with the hope of getting a ticket there.

Rich Stadium in Buffalo, New York

At the time, I was working at Jumbo Video and left immediately after my afternoon shift. I got started late and no road trip is complete without a stop at McDonald’s. I can’t remember what the tie-in was with the restaurant, but with my meal I managed to pick up a cheap, bright pink 110-cartridge-style camera which I still have today. The pictures it took are a fantastic, albeit slightly fuzzy, reminder of my crazy weekend.

The camera from the trip

Arriving late in the evening, I struggled to find parking. Eventually. I made my way into an overflow lot. I put the back seats down and slept in the hatchback of my Corolla. My wake-up call Sunday morning was from a pleasant security guard who advised me that I was actually on the property of a community college. I had somehow crossed the property line and, because it was dark when I got in, failed to notice the campus in the distance.

SUNY Erie College (near Rich Stadium)

I had met a group from Boston parked nearby and they managed to help me relocate to a spot close to them. We hung out for a bit and made plans to wander the vendors after I met my friends, Greg and Jay, at the predetermined rendezvous point, a 7-11 convenience store.

The store looked like it was a scene from a disaster movie. It had been picked clean by the time I arrived around noon – there were literally bare shelves where products once stood. Clearly, the proprietors had not anticipated the demands from the throngs of Deadheads who had descended on this area.

I went out to wait for Greg and Jay in front of the store. By this time, the sun was beating down on me and, in the immortal words of Woody Allen, “…I don’t tan, I stroke”. After some time hiding from the June sun, it became evident that I had been stood up. A benevolent woman I will call Earth Mother, who was parked in a nearby Volkswagen van, called me over and said I looked like a lobster, and offered to apply sunscreen. Once again I was saved by the kindness of a stranger. We discussed the state of the store and how difficult it was going to be for me to find my friends if we didn’t see each other here.

Volkswagen vans were popular among Deadheads

Remember, this was before everyone had cell phones. Consequently, if you missed your friends at a meeting spot you were on your own. Eventually, I had to make the difficult decision of abandoning the store and the hope of connecting with Greg and Jay. I went back to the Boston group to see what was offered by the Grateful Dead community.

At every one of their concerts, you can find a makeshift market of Deadheads who follow Jerry Garcia and his merry band of pranksters on their tours.

Deadheads in the parking lot

The police seemed to take a harm-reduction approach and just made sure to contain any shenanigans to the lots surrounding the stadium. For the most part, innocuous recreational drugs such as marijuana, hashish and magic mushrooms, were available. However, within the next couple years, harder substances were being openly solicited, resulting in more police presence and arrests.

Everywhere you looked there were concert shirts available. None was subtle – Deadhead fashion has always been bold and colourful. The shirt I picked looked like a zoetrope of all the Grateful Dead iconography on the front, with the obligatory concert dates printed on the reverse.

Joram at the Dead show

I also picked up a teal, hand-painted bucket-hat with the top completely covered with the classic “steal your face” design. Flipping up its brim showed off a rose and lightning bolts. At another vendor a pair of purple, blue and grey Guatemalan overalls were purchased to complete my Deadhead ensemble.

Joram alongside his new friend from Boston

I already had a frisbee and hacky-sack so, of course, I had to purchase devil sticks. Devil sticks consisted of three sticks. The first, a long, heavier and colourful rod (about 28 inches, or 70 cm, long) is gyroscopically juggled/spun in the air with the other two batons, which are much shorter.

Trying out my new Devil Sticks

At home, I had learned a few tricks on Greg's sticks but it was nice to have a set of my own. I was fairly safe playing with those, but the fire sticks were a different story. Greg would soak the ends in lighter fluid and set them ablaze. It was quite an impressive sight when they were artfully twirled and spun through the air. Thankfully no one was ever set on fire, but there were a couple occasions where shirts were left with scorch marks.

Jewelers and other artisans had booths lined up throughout the parking lot. Some simply set up their wares on a blanket by their vehicles. A dollar for a grilled cheese sandwich was the best deal I could find anywhere and, after purchasing one, we hung out talking with the Deadhead cook. The hope, for each vendor, is to make enough money to feed their Grateful Dead habit and get them to the next show.

The Grilled Cheese Vendor

Speaking of the show, it was time to get into the stadium. I had a general admission ticket but found an unused seat just off the floor which gave me a fantastic vantage point to see the crowd and the stage.

Sting, formerly the front-man and bassist for The Police (with 4 albums on The 500), opened. It seemed a weird choice because his music style, at the time, was in a pop-jazz vein. But The Dead were known for choosing from a wide assortment of genres and artists to open their shows. Case in point…the Violent Femmes, an American folk-punk band, were the openers in 1991 at the show in Buckeye Lake, Ohio!

Sting on stage with Jerry Garcia at one of the shows during this tour

I remember the Dead’s performance starting with Touch of Grey, the group’s biggest hit and one of the few songs that had crossed-over to mainstream audiences. However, the rest of the concert is a bit of a blur. The experience was like nothing I had ever felt. I had heard all of these tunes before, but the arrangements were different – in a good way. One song rolled into another like a conversation among the musicians. You could hear them talking with their instruments as one would convince the others which song to play next. It is for this reason that my collection of Grateful Dead albums consists mainly of live concerts and bootlegs. When performing live, the band adopts a jazz player’s mentality and eschews the standard song structure of “verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-verse-chorus.” Instead, they will offer the audience an improvisational, 20-minute version of Me and My Uncle (a song originally written by John Phillips of The Mamas & The Papas). However, instead of the three-minute interpretations made famous by singers who include Judy Collins or Joni Mitchell, the Dead would re-imagine the song and include spontaneous, but highly melodic and hypnotic, “guitar noodling” as part of a collaborative and extended jam session.

Joram's Grateful Dead collection

After a solid three hours, the stadium lights came on and, with the final notes of the encore still echoing in the air, walking towards me was Greg! Among a crowd larger than the size of a small city, we happened to bump into each other at the last possible moment. The following year I made sure I was travelling with them from the start.

Epilogue

This blog post was written to celebrate the release of Workingman's Dead but my first concert experience didn't contain any of the songs from that album. Its first cut, Uncle John's Band, is one of my favourites, which I eventually did get to hear live.

That was the allure of the Grateful Dead and the reason fans would travel with them for an entire summer. They had a massive repertoire with no predetermined set list. This allowed one show to be completely different from another. They also allowed fans to bring in sound equipment to record the shows because every show was a unique performance, never to be repeated. 

Deadheads regularly exchange cassettes or digital versions of shows and many can talk for hours about their “Top 5 Live performances”. My favourite three are Phil’s Birthday in 1990; New Year’s Eve 1978 at Winterland in San Francisco; with the first of Dick’s Picks from December of 1973 at the top.

I eventually saw them in an amphitheatre and an arena as well. I had an amazingly different experience at each.