Grateful Dead

Je vous rassure, il y a encore quelques français qui savent ce qu'est la musique !!
Bien sûr, nous sommes un peu frustrés de ne pas avoir d'évènements majeurs concernant la période psychédélique, à part en septembre à Montreuil.
La chaîne Arte fait aussi des efforts avec cet été le Summer of Love.
Bref, si vous êtes là les Deadheads, faites-le savoir et je serai ravi de faire connaissance.

A bientôt

Pascal

Friends, deadheads, amurkans, lend me your ears.

I'm sitting here in Frome, Somerset, England listening to Bobby and the boys, from Tuesday night. The wonders of the internet. And there was me for a large chunk of the 80s - along with quite a few other folk, I now discover - believing I was the last deadhead in England (copyrighted for the title of my probably never to be written Autobiography). Fact was, with no internet back then, tape trading was not even a blip on the horizon unless you toured (and I was knee-deep in children and broke), and the studio albums of the 80s led me - sadly - to believe the Dead had turned into an MOR band. (Sorry Brent, that was you!).

The advent of the net, to which I had access at work from 1993, and then at home from '97 changed that. Now I'm sitting at my PC with over 800 downloaded shows by the Dead on it, most of the recorded output, lots of Dog, JGB and the rest of the family. Currently 18 weeks on non-stop family music on 1.5 terabytes worth of HD. And more to come!

But how did I get here? I blundered into the Dead in '66. 15 years old then, my older brother, bless him, introduced me to the glory that is rock 'n roll in the 50s, spinning Bill Haley, Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly, Bo Diddley & Elvis non-stop on his bedroom Dansette. It's always been rock 'n roll for me (you can dance to it), and not "rock" music (no dancee, just shakee your long hair). The Dead the prime rock 'n roll dance band, and for those who naysay that, the Dead were ALWAYS a dance band, and always a rock 'n roll band. Don't argue with me, you at the back. Respect your elders.

I was at Public (ie. Private) school in Cambridge in the second half of the 60s. Friends had parents who boarded American students. I heard tapes of the Airplane late 66, and then Saint John Peel, 3 miles offshore on pirate Radio London, hit me late on night, early '67 I think, with Golden Road. Sold, one lifetime's worth of obsession and utter delight, to the lanky teenager in Woodford, Cheshire (nothing bu the dead & dying, now, in my home town). Oxford Uni, '69 to '72. First year exams stopped me seeing their first show here, a one-off in 1970. But the Dead became the soundtrack to my exporation of psychedelics ("majored" in that, rather than the Eng. Lit. & Lang. I was meant to be studying).

So the Europe '72 tour was my live initiation. Bless them, they turned up in our Finals term, and wrecked it, happily. Priorities. Only got to see 5 of the shows, from what I recall, but all of them beyond description. And the Wembley Dark Star is for me one of the finest pieces of music, of any description, of all time. It never fails to move me, so sweet and ecstatic is it. Utter bliss.

Got to see them every time they came over. 81 to 90 was like a desert, so the 90s shows were a delight, to find the band, and Jerry, in such fine form. But it was no surprise to me when the big man left us. He had too much to carry, and sooner or later that breaks you. I still tear up when I think of him, and bless him every day for what he gave us all during those years. As an old friend of mine once said to me, "He's the only guitarist who can drop you with a note". So true. And the only to make me laugh out loud, and then weep minutes later. He talked to our hearts, through our ears.

So, I'm sitting here at my desk, in gorgeous, green, wet Somerset, reflecting on over 40 years of connection to the many-headed monster that is the Dead. I get my live fix by flying over for the Ratdog Beacon shows these past two years, and come out of thos just as I did from seeing the Dead, high as a kite, skipping on tiptoe, and with a shit-eating grin splitting my face.

Gotta love it.

Love to you all, fellow deadheads - we are indeed everywhere :-)

Jeremy

There's been a few mentions of Germany, not exactly fulsome in their praise. Check out these people, they're family, as much as anyone. I'm sure they can make you hug a Hun.

http://germanheads.de/

I have no probs with the maps by the way. If anything it's too accurate, someone might suss out where I am and grab my CDs etc while I'm out!

Still awaiting the SBD of The Charlies from Sat, Aud is not enough.

Cheers, Paul

that pesky map problem has been reported and if it's something we can fix (as contrasted to something Google has to fix) every effort will be made to make it happen...

They played Europe in 1990 but the nearest show to you be in Germany a long way from Bari

Bob W

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Spanish Jam