On 80-hour Box Sets

30 Trips Around the Sun: A Review

In a time when everything is distilled to short 3-word memes, quick posts that are funny for a second or two and relevant for less, and music that's streamed once and forgotten, I've decided to go deep and against the grain, to be defiant. Longer books, more meaningful movies, emails and blog posts that attempt to be thoughtful and hopefully of value tomorrow and the next day. That's why I'm going with 80-hour box sets.

Box sets as a genre are going to have imperfections, things only a true fan would love. That the Dead are able to keep releasing recordings of their live shows after 20 years of releasing live shows and they've still got really good material, some of it outstanding, and nobody's really bored yet of the re-releases, is a testament to the treasure trove of music and good times that the Grateful Dead left us with.

30 Trips Around the Sun is a selection of one show per each year of the 30 years that the Grateful Dead were active playing as a group (1966-1995). 80 hours. My wife and I listened to each show in chronological succession, every minute, appreciating the evolution of the band. What really struck us was how the band never, ever, not for even one minute, stood still. They were constantly evolving, experimenting to improve their sound, both from a musical perspective and a technological perspective. Did they have some off years? Absolutely. Horrible years, there were a few shows, dare I admit it, that were barely listenable even for a true fan. But even in the off years, or the shows when their playing was inconsistent or uninspired, there was a progression of growth. You could hear the band members growing as people, growing as a single unit, even during the years when they were going their separate ways.

People only superficially aware of the Dead tend to write them off as '60s nostalgia, but not for one second did the band indulge in nostalgia. Like Miles Davis, they were both musically and technologically a decade ahead of their peers once they really found their feet.  Because when the band really worked, it wasn't about one guy, it wasn't about some egomaniac hogging a mic as the cocky leg-splitting lead singer or some folkie self-indulging his own misery or a show-off doing some pyrotechnics on a guitar. Though for his chops we could easily put Jerry alongside a Jimi Hendrix and make a case for him as one of the best rock guitarists and without question he certainly was the most versatile. Actually, I'd call Jerry the best folk banjoist that ever decided to play jazz guitar with a rock band. As Bob Dylan eulogized Jerry at his funeral in one of the most fitting praises I can think of: "There are a lot of spaces and advances between the Carter family, Buddy Holly and, say, Ornette Coleman, a lot of universes, but he filled them all without being a member of any school. His playing was moody, awesome, sophisticated, hypnotic and subtle. There's no way to convey the loss. It just digs down really deep." In the same way, the rest of the band members had their own unique sounds but knew how to fit together. Is Phil Lesh the greatest bassist ever? Emphatically no. But did Phil Lesh pioneer a completely new sound for the bass, did he bring a completely new approach to rock bass by bringing classical music trained chops + Jazz feel + avant garde sound approach to fit into a band, to actually listen to his bandmates, to create a sound as a whole that was completely organic and absolutely authentic. A superficial listen to Bob Weir and you would think he was the most awkward guitarist ever, but he was really Jerry's McCoy Tyner, a perfect compliment. And probably the most original rhythm guitarist that ever lived. Each drummer brought so much to the band, without ever taking over as individuals. Billy kept it simple when the band needed it most and Mickey made time and rhythm and the polyrhythms he created absolutely imperative to the band and the band's sound. The Grateful Dead worked when all members worked as a single collective unit. The whole is better than the sum of the parts is the thesis of the Grateful Dead.

There are several undisputed peak periods for the Dead--February of '69, Spring of '72, Spring of '77, and the 1990 Spring tour--though great cases could be made for Fall '72, Fall '73, summer of '74...well a real fan could pick out times and shows throughout all of the 30 years. What really struck me were the surprises. Just like when you go to a Dead show or any live show with performers rooted in improvisational music, what inspires and entertains are the surprises. Sure '66 was interesting from a historical perspective and the '67 show was a gem, a real treat to re-visit and appreciate. What's clear, though, is that Phil Lesh and Jerry carry the band musically, and PigPen is the wildly entertaining front man, but they haven't completed coalesced as a unit (they're almost there).
 The band becomes outstanding when everybody equally contributes. The '68 show is beautifully played. But the first real barnstorming, mind-blowing show should not have been a surprise--the show from February '69. I should have been mentally prepared for it. Even non-Dead Heads are familiar with Live/Dead, also recorded in February '69, and widely regarded as a masterpiece. Music critics touted it as containing "the finest rock improvisation ever recorded," and I would argue that it etches in history some of the peak moments of human creativity ever. I should have been prepared. I've listened to other shows from February '69, but when we listened to the 2/22/69 show at the Dream Bowl in Vallejo, California, I had no desire to listen to music again for 10 days or more, so satiated was I by the absolutely mindbending show. A real pinnacle moment. This show should not have been a surprise, but it was, and dare I say it, better than the Live/Dead album that put the Grateful Dead on the map.

My personal favorite era for the Dead is, as for many, the period between '72 and '74. And the shows here weren't a surprise. '72 majestic (though Jerry's guitar isn't perfectly perfect into the mix on the second set, though), '73 perfect, '74 sprawling, weird with that clear, clear '74 sound. No surprises. The Dead only played 4 shows together in '75, their hiatus year. And the show selected from that year started off as a dud. But there were some interesting takeaways for me. This show from Kezar Stadium in SF was one of their first big free shows in SF since the Flower Power days and you can hear the free, trying to be sunny in the city vibe. The band is out of practice and hard to listen to at the beginning, but surprisingly comes together in the second set. Not the technically most proficient show of the box set, but I'd call this latter half of the second set another surprise and it was fun to listen to on a rare sunny January day in Skagit county driving country roads.

It must be said that '80 through '83 are unlistenable and I don't think I'll return to these shows. What's interesting is that the band's recordings switched from analog to digital and the recording quality dips tremendously. This is a huge testament to "Bear" aka Owsley Stanley, without whom we would not have the Dead, and Betty Cantor-Jackson, who were real geniuses when it came to live recording. The recordings they made of the Dead in the 60s and 70s have a big warm and clear sound and are just as beautiful as it gets. Bear's '66 analog recording of the Dead is of much higher quality than the shows recorded from '79 through '84. Digital could not match the analog recordings they were making. The 1984 show selected from Augusta, Maine was the next really nice complete show. Great energy that you can feel throughout. But the biggest surprise for me was their 9/18/87 show from Madison Garden, NYC. This show is just as good as it gets. The best version of "Sugaree" since the 16-minute versions from May of '77. Just perfect. The "Terrapin Station" as clear, as perfect as I've heard. We get to hear Jerry singing in Spanish--pretty good Spanish, too--on a brief "La Bamba" that comes sandwiched in a "Good Lovin'" following probably the best version of "Morning Dew" in the modern era that the Dead ever did. Outstanding stuff.

And my next big, big surprise is that my wife actually started to like '80s Dead. At first, she was averse to it. Like a lot of Dead heads, she didn't like the '80s sound. Brent is good, but those weird keyboard sounds he made...they're kinda cheesy sometimes. You've gotta love Pigpen in the late sixties and Keith's jazzy keys were such a perfect compliment to Jerry in the '70s, so Brent had huge shoes to fill and it's hard to start listening to Brent when the Dead you know is the early stuff. But then, like I've said before, you have to appreciate the evolution. It's easy to love 80s Dead when the shows are so good and you can feel Brent breathing so much life into Jerry and the band, taking them to new levels, which you can hear in '84, '85, even the earlier shows (just bad sound quality). Each show following '87 is absolutely outstanding, though. The '88 selection, a show from the Oxford Plains of Maine with an absolute delicious version of "Bird Song" during which a hang glider flew over the crowd right as Jerry was peaking on a solo and you can hear in the crowd, you can feel in the music, that something wild and magical was happening. It finishes off with an extremely emotional "Dear Mr. Fantasy>Hey Jude" and then a "Not Fade Away" with the crowd chanting the lyrics of the song for 5 minutes after the band leaves the stage. Just beautiful, beautiful tear-jerking stuff. The '89 show has the darkest "Dark Star" 30-+ minute meltdown of the modern era and is also just packed with both emotion and good playing. 10/27/1990 from the Zenith in Paris is crystal clear and emotional. Great to hear the band full of chops, playing tightly together, and the always playful Bruce Hornsby accompanying them with his great jazz piano and accordion. And what a wonderful addition to the box set, a complete show with Branford Marsalis on sax in the 1991 selection. The Dead loved Branford and Branford loved the Dead. That Branford could keep up with the Dead is a real compliment to the guy and that the Dead--"just a rock band"--could keep up with Branford shows just the full talent of them and their chops as musicians. As Branford said, "Guys who play jazz and don't only listen to jazz knew those guys." "Jerry had a unique style of soloing. There are a lot of musicians with a one-style-fits-all mentality." Not Jerry. "Jerry found a way to adapt to whatever the situation was and add a color." What's amazing is that '92 keeps going with that energy. In the '94 selection, the band is as tight as ever. The nice thing about the later years is that the Jerry Garcia/Robert Hunter songwriting is in its Golden Years with chestnuts like "So Many Roads" and "Days Between."

The chronological succession of shows is a testament not just to the music but the technology that preserved the sound of each of these shows. The Grateful Dead were not just a band, but a traveling family of technological wizards who were always at the forefront of making extremely clear sound. Everything they did was to make sure that everybody had a good time. It only could have started in the Silicon Valley/Bay Area, an epicenter of engineering and creativity. When these wizards built their infamous "Wall of Sound" the hallmark of their '74 tour, it wasn't about being loud but about the guy in the very back row, a quarter mile away, being able to hear the music just as clear as the gal dancing in row 8. Very egalitarian. Very much in the spirit of that ancient myth--is it Egyptian or Navajo--of the Grateful Dead. Here is a business organization that kept their concert ticket prices very reasonably priced even after a Billboard Top 20, which was only one and not very popular anyways. But they were consistently one of the top grossing touring bands, even with the ticket prices that were a tenth of what the big, popular bands were charging.

One enormous addition to the box set was a beautiful booklet that told the story of the Dead chronologically, the strategic, creative, and financial decisions that led them through their 30 Trips Around the Sun. As a student of business, I had to appreciate the marketing decisions. Long before the Internet, the Dead were really the first to take advantage of connecting band with fans with mailing lists. Long before Facebook, listservs electronically connected fans who compared notes on shows, allowed them to trade downloads of show bootlegs, and gossip about the band. The Dead pioneered ticket mailing schemes, trying to keep it all egalitarian, giving everybody a chance to get a good seat. In the off years, Phil Lesh wrote in his autobiography/biography of the band, the band kept playing just so that their office staff/technical support/roadies could continue to have salaries and health insurance. It really was a family/egalitarian effort. They kept going even when they probably should have taken a break.

Yeah. 80 hours. Yes, there are some shows that I will not return to in this box set. But I made a point to pick up the unique, the beautiful, 2 to 4 songs from each show, and I made a highlight playlist. It's at just under 20 hours. I know. Another mammoth box set in itself. But that's the beauty of box sets.

The next box set I'm going through is another 80-hour one: All 22 shows from their 1972 Europe tour. Truly the Golden Age of the Dead. Sure, there are some legendary shows. We know. The Europe '72 double album was how I was introduced to the Dead and it really is a gem and I get a little weepy thinking about it, because it's just that good, but I know what will matter, will be the surprises in this next mammoth box set.

Box Sets are perfect for DeadHeads. The music of the Grateful Dead is tedious, it's long, it's hard to get into for the uninitiated, it's full of zits and imperfections, but what we like doing is finding the gems, the surprises, the moments when, as Bobby Weir would say, "it's just exactly perfect," and when we find these moments, after long hours of fruitless exploration, it's just better than sex. It's just about as good as life gets. And that's what art is.