Different Tunes
The long, strange trip
A Floyd fan's introduction to the Grateful Dead
For the uninitiated, wading through the Grateful Dead's ridiculously enormous catalogue of studio albums, live releases and DVDs is one long, strange trip that could go bad really fast. This is especially true for Floyd fans. While both the Dead and the Floyd released their first albums in 1967 and stopped touring in the mid-90s, comparing the two is like comparing apples and oranges.
The Dead were on the road basically non-stop for 30 years, taking extended breaks only during an 18-month touring hiatus from late 1974 until 1976, and after lead guitarist Jerry Garcia fell into a diabetic coma for six weeks in 1986. Thirty years is a darned long time to be slogging it out, and the Dead's veritable treasure chest of a discography does not disappoint—although, it is definitely not advisable to try to digest it all at once. While the Floyd have a grand total of four live albums in the can, the Dead's discography incredibly boasts more than 50 official live releases, not to mention a mere 13 studio albums, a few 'greatest hits' collections, and a smattering of boxed sets. (Imagine if Pink Floyd released the whole 1977 North American tour as a limited edition box set. You get the point.)
Out of breath yet? Hopefully not, because we haven't even started to explore all the unreleased shows floating around, and there are literally thousands.
It's quite obvious from the sheer amount of material in their catalogue that the Dead had (and still have) a singular relationship with their audience, a symbiotic give-and-take that allowed them to tour more or less constantly from the late '60s until Garcia's death in 1995. They became one of the highest-grossing concert attractions of the 1990s while retaining their free-thinking counterculture status. To understand the Grateful Dead phenomenon, you must trace it back to their roots in the San Francisco psychedelic scene, just as any look at Pink Floyd has to begin with late 60s London.
 The Grateful Dead perform in San Francisco, 1969. |
Just as Pink Floyd melded many divergent influences into their early improvisational sound, the Dead started out in San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury district as a kind of mad garage band that blended folk, blues, R&B rave-ups, bluegrass, country, and even classical influences into a psychedelic stew. The band initially featured Garcia on lead guitar, Bob Weir on rhythm guitar, electronic music student Phil Lesh on bass, blues shouter Ron "Pigpen" McKernan on organ and vocals, and Bill Kreutzmann on drums. (As the '60s wore on, the band also added Mickey Hart as a second drummer and Tom Constanten on keyboards.)
The band was not one to stick to conventions. They were influenced as much by Ornette Coleman's free jazz and the electronic composer Karlheinz Stockhausen as they were by the Beatles and Bob Dylan. Their distinctive style of conventional song structures wrapped around extended freeform improvisations is little surprise. They were the house band for the acid tests put on by Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters, and that their infamous sound engineer Owlsey "Bear" Stanley was the first person to mass-produce LSD in the '60s.
Psychedelics aside, just like Syd's Floyd, the band's early music goes far beyond mere background noise for tripping hippies. Listening to the band chug through extended blues jams and jazz-tinged, "Interstellar Overdrive"-like instrumentals is somewhat akin to getting launched into space in a tie-died rocket without a seatbelt. If you make it back down in one piece, that's great. If not, that's even better! Known to the initiated as "primal Dead", it's similar to listening to the live version of "A Saucerful of Secrets", but add another guitarist and another drummer.
While sadly there is not much live Floyd available from 1966-69, the Dead recorded nearly every show they ever played and kept the tapes in their "Vault". And as Garcia once famously quipped, once they played the music, it wasn't really theirs any more—it belonged to the fans. Taping was encouraged by the band, and in fact, the Dead pioneered the "taper's section" in the '80s because the mass of audience mics in front of the soundboard was becoming distracting. When you add up all the high-quality soundboards that have leaked out over the years along with the multitudes of good quality audience recordings, you're left with little to complain about.
If you're a sucker for the live version of "Interstellar Overdrive" from Tonight Let's All Make Love In London, then check out a great example of primal Dead in "The Other One" taken from the Avalon Ballroom in San Francisco in October 1968. Listening to Garcia's scorching guitar leads and Phil Lesh's driving bass lines as they scream headfirst against the pounding drums, you can see why early on legions flocked to the Dead's corner and didn't leave for decades.
Collecting Dead shows really is an addiction (it's not uncommon for the dedicated Deadhead to have hundreds of shows archived away on all sorts of media). If you want a good reason to become a Dead junkie, then look no further than "Caution (Do Not Step On The Tracks)", a tasty morsel of an R&B rave up, with Pigpen's mighty vocals taking the band on a far-out blues excursion at the Fillmore East in New York City in February 1969.
 Live/Dead (1969) |
You might also want to check out the band's seminal live release Live/Dead, a must-have for any Deadhead, featuring perhaps their most famous extended instrumental outing, "Dark Star", which stretches for 20 minutes or so. "Dark Star" is sort of the Dead's equivalent of "Echoes" in that it became a rarely-played fan favourite, and it was basically put to rest in 1974, resurfacing only occasionally after that. Amazingly, live versions of "Dark Star" sometimes went as long as 48 minutes!
Moving on to what is considered the start of the band's early- to mid-'70s golden age, 1972, the lineup had changed somewhat. Second drummer Mickey Hart had left the band the previous year, Pigpen was assuming a much smaller role because of liver trouble (and would leave the band after the 1972 tour of Europe and die shortly thereafter), and new keyboardist Keith Godchaux had joined the band in late '71 (along with his wife, Donna Jean Godchaux, who sang harmony vocals).
Take a listen to the Dead's July 1971 run at the Fillmore West in San Francisco for a taste of the band's sound during this transitional period. Pigpen's extended blues and R&B rants—along with pieces such as "Dark Star" and "The Other One"—had previously formed much of the framework for the band's improvisational jamming (see "Hard To Handle" from the above show). However, as Pigpen sadly faded into the background, his songs were being replaced more and more by Garcia's country- and folk-flavoured compositions (written with lyricist Robert Hunter) and Bob Weir's cowboy songs. Check out "Loser" from this show to get an idea of the classic Garica/Hunter songwriting formula, which borrowed loosely from traditional music idioms, musically as well as lyrically.
While sharing many characteristics with the primal Dead, the Grateful Dead of '72 to '74 was a whole other monster. The addition of Keith Godchaux and the departure of Hart allowed the band to expand in a more jazz-oriented direction, with Kreutzmann's Elvin Jones-like beat driving Godchaux's brilliantly percussive comping, opening up space for Weir to experiment with odd chord voicings and for Garcia and Lesh to play off each other with bouncy lead lines and odd phrasings.
Just as the Floyd were a well-oiled, cohesive live unit by the early '70s (the Smoking Blues bootleg is a favourite example), take a listen to "Dark Star" from September 1972 at the Hollywood Palladium. The Dead sound more like a bunch of jazz musicians playing rock and roll than the other way around.
If you're interested in listening to more of this phenomenal era, then check out 1974, when the Dead morphed from a road-hardened, country-inflected, psychedelic jugband into an all-out jazz-fusion-inspired improvisational force to be reckoned with. Most shows from '74 are par with the best performances of the band's career (this period will especially appeal to fans of Pink Floyd's 1975 tour). If you have an hour or two to spare, then check out the band's Winterland Arena show from February 24, 1974, featuring what is easily one of the greatest "Dark Star"s of all-time. The rest of the show isn't too bad either, and it definitely worthy of a listen. Pay careful attention to Kreutzmann's awe-inspiring drumming and how it is juxtaposed against Garcia's weaving guitar lines and Lesh's bass flurries.
 The Grateful Dead in an acoustic set, 1980. |
Next, you'll need to get a nice dose of 1977 (1976 was a warm-up year after the 1975 touring break and is not really for newbies). Many Deadheads say that the band's show from May 8, 1977 was the greatest show the Dead ever played, period. I have to protest. The band's Winterland show from June 9 is a far superior performance all around. Just listen to the "Help on the Way"/"Slipknot!"/"Franklin's Tower" transition from the second set. This jam is simply indescribable using ordinary words; just think of the extended parts of "Shine On" from the North American leg of Pink Floyd's 1977 tour, and then take a listen to this essential Dead performance through a great pair of headphones (if you don't have any, run out and borrow some right now!). This might be my favourite Dead show of all-time. If like me, you're a huge fan of live Floyd from 1977 but have always lamented the fact that more shows aren't available in decent sound quality, be aware that there was another band in 1977 that was breaking fresh ground every night. Once you listen to 1977 Dead, you won't be able to stop.
There are literally hundreds of other shows you'll want to check out once you become hooked. Suffice it to say that the '70s—especially 1972-74 and '77—are usually considered the best years. There's still great music after 1977, but by 1978 the band was beginning to show sings of a decades-long slide downhill as Garcia became hooked on heroin and the rest of the band (keyboardist Brent Mydland replaced Godchaux in 1979, and Vince Welnick replaced Mydland in 1990 after Mydland's untimely death), grew increasingly bored. Sadly, the magical moments became fewer and fewer, but they were still there if you listened hard enough. That's the beauty of the Grateful Dead.
There was a late '80s renaissance that lasted from 1989 until early 1992, at which point guest keyboardist Bruce Hornsby—who joined the band temporarily after Mydland's passing—went back to his solo career. Check out "Dark Star" from Hampton, Virginia on October 9, 1989. "Dark Star" was rarely broken out post-1974, and when it was, you can be sure that the audience went nuts. This night was no exception.
Moving closer to the twilight years, we come to the best show of '91 with Hornsby manning the grand piano. Listen to the rare "Eyes of the World" opener (the song was usually the feature piece of the second set and could stretch up to 25 minutes or so at times) and try to figure out how this is the same band that featured Pigpen singing covers of "Hard to Handle" and "Good Lovin'". It's just amazing how the level of musicianship progressed.
 Workingman's Dead (1970, top) and American Beauty (1970) |
In terms of studio work, the one rule to remember is that the Dead never seemed entirely comfortable in the studio. Unlike the Floyd, who were well-suited to recording studios, the Dead's music never seemed to gel in such a situation, except on a few rare occasions. Workingman's Dead (1970) and American Beauty (1970), with it's CSNY-influenced harmony vocals and rootsy acoustic songs, are two such instances (think of "A Pillow of Winds" or "Wots... Uh the Deal"). Both albums are classics that even non-fans of the band's live performances can easily appreciate.
If you're looking for Roger Waters-style concept albums, then you'll feel right as home with 1975's Blues For Allah; although it's not a concept album per se, it's always felt like one to me. It also features the band's best studio playing. Most of the other studio albums are only for die-hard fans, the exception being 1987's very listenable In the Dark, which featured the Dead's only top ten single ("Touch of Gray")' as well as many concert staples of the '80s.
The Dead's first few albums, while probably an acquired taste, do prove rewarding after multiple listens. It just takes a while to really 'get' them, in the same way that I seem to remember it taking repeated listens for me to fully appreciate A Saucerful Of Secrets, which is now a favourite.
Finally, I'll leave you with American Beauty's "Brokedown Palace" from RFK Stadium in Washington, D.C. on June 25, 1995 at one of the band's last concerts before Garcia's death about two weeks later. If this performance doesn't bring a tear to your eye, then maybe there's no convincing you of the many merits of the Grateful Dead.
