| August 5th, 2005 04:27 AM |
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| Ten Thousand Motels |
8/9: GARCIA'S ANNIVERSARY MARKED BY SIRIUS BROADCAST
Jam_On channel will feature tributes by Garcia's friends, Grateful Dead band mates, many music artists and SIRIUS listeners.
WHO: Legendary Grateful Dead guitarist Jerry Garcia, who died on August 9, 1995.
WHAT: Day-long special tribute to Garcia will feature memories of him by his Grateful Dead band mates Phil Lesh, Bill Kreutzmann and Mickey Hart, and artists including Warren Haynes, Michael Franti, Derek Trucks, Keller Williams, members of .moe, Butch Trucks (Allman Brothers Band), SIRIUS host Buddy Cage (New Riders of the Purple Sage), John Popper (Blues Traveler), Jorma Kaukonen (Hot Tuna) and SIRIUS listeners. Jerry's music, including Grateful Dead, solo projects, and his work with others, will be featured all day, along with cover versions of his music by other artists.
WHEN: Starting at 3 a.m. ET Tuesday, August 9, 2005 (ending at 11:59 pm ET)
WHERE: Exclusively on SIRIUS channel 17, Jam_On
Ten years ago, the world lost Jerry Garcia. But the music never stopped.
By Art O'Sullivan
There was something strange in the air that Tuesday night, summer of '95: the breeze was balmy but edgy, and the evening seemed extra dark and somehow uneasy. I had agreed to be an emergency sub for a friend disc-jockeying a midnight radio show--something I would normally be happy to do--but this night things felt wrong and I just did not want to be there. I was playing a good old Grateful Dead tape--something to at least keep me happy. The strains of a "Scarlet Begonias/Fire on the Mountain" medley showcasing Jerry Garcia's lilting guitar were lifting my spirits. A woman phoned to express her elation at discovering a Dead concert on the radio. We talked some and I said, "There won't always be Dead shows to go to."
She agreed, then asked, "Do you want to go to one sometime?"
Uh--well--I settled on "maybe."
The caller made sure I was not married, then gave me her phone number and we left it at that.
The next morning, my friend Terry phoned from L.A.
"Hey, what's up?" I greeted.
Silence.
"You haven't heard?"
No, I hadn't.
"Jerry Garcia is dead."
Garcia had died of heart failure around 4:20am that morning, Wednesday, Aug. 9, 1995, at a Marin County drug rehabilitation center which he had checked himself into. We'd all known for years that Garcia had health issues--diabetes, chain-smoking and a hard-drug habit--so this news was not a surprise, but it was a terrible shock.
I got off the phone quickly as I felt a great well of tears rising up to burst. As word of Garcia's passing spread, people congregated in special places, and even public officials honored the iconoclast-turned-unwilling icon. Wednesday afternoon at 4:20, people gathered at what was then known as "hippie corner" at Cathcart and Pacific. In San Francisco, the mayor ordered a tie-dye flag flown at half-staff over City Hall, and that night the faithful gathered at the corner of Haight and Ashbury. In New York, Deadheads lit candles at Strawberry Fields, the John Lennon memorial in Central Park. Even President Clinton took time to pay his respect.
The national media could not help but recognize the public outpouring of grief at Garcia's passing. That night on ABC's Nightline, host Ted Koppel invited Sen. Patrick Leahy (D-Vermont) and singer David Crosby (Crosby, Stills & Nash) to pay tribute to Garcia as a fallen hero and a friend.
Not everyone saw it that way. Radio commentator Rush Limbaugh said good riddance to a drug addict--society would be better off without him. (Could we roll that tape now, please?)
The most surprising and impressive tribute I caught was on PBS's staid MacNeil/Lehrer NewsHour--constituting proof that a major figure had passed from the scene. Standard practice on the NewsHour was to announce the death of a well-known performing artist at the very end of the opening news summary, then show a performance clip at the end of the program. But on Aug. 9, 1995, during the news summary, after announcing Garcia's passing, instead of switching over to the usual feature analyses, the NewsHour segued directly to a clip of the Grateful Dead, circa 1974, performing the traditional GD standard "I Know You Rider."
There was Jerry Garcia in his matching black frizzy hair, beard and T-shirt and tinted spectacles, singing an appropriate verse:
I wish I was a headlight on a northbound train
I'd shine my light through the cool Colorado rain
Part way through the second reading of the line beginning "I know you rider ... ," the TV picture suddenly froze as Garcia's immobile face gazed in our direction, while the music continued without him: "... gonna miss me when I'm gone." On the word "gone," the sound phased out to silence and the picture faded to black.
And that was the end of the news summary on the NewsHour.
Also the end of the party--the end of the '60s--that mythical, officially bygone era that Garcia, the Dead and their Deadhead fans had kept alive and dancing for an extra quarter century. But no more encores. Jerry Garcia had left the building.
Millions grieved for a man whom most had never met but whom many felt they knew and that he knew them. Even in the inherently communal experience of a Grateful Dead concert, each person in attendance could get the feeling that Garcia was playing every note and chord for him or her alone.
A few days later, the Santa Cruz Sentinel ran the following headline: "Jerry Garcia's finger rests in county folklore." When Garcia was 4 years old and staying with his grandparents in Lompico, his brother accidentally chopped off most of Jerry's right middle finger with an ax. A few months later his father was swept away by a river in Northern California and drowned. His teenage years turned hellish, and Garcia took solace in self-medication and music. He carried an acute awareness of mortality and how quickly everything can all be gone. Might as well make the best of life while you can--let the good times roll. Forget your troubles and dance.
In 1989, Garcia told Musician magazine LSD had affected his music: "Just the thought that anything is possible, clearly. From here on in anything is possible."
The original idea was for the band to drop acid and play without a plan in front of a psychically lubricated audience and let that audience guide the musicians through uncharted realms. Garcia played the tune while thousands engaged in mass civil disobedience and--despite intermittent police harassment--got away with it for 30 years.
Nothing is forever, nothing is secure. For that matter, nothing is real. Enjoy HERE AND NOW to the fullest--whether it's really happening or not. Don't play it safe--take chances.
The Music Played the Band
I took a chance on my first Grateful Dead show. Didn't drop acid, but did spring for a ticket. No one--not even the Dead themselves--could dictate or predict which times they'd be awesome or awful, and if my first Dead show had been one of the latter kind, there would not have been a second. My ticket did not say "legendary transcendent show tonight." We sat in the balcony, front left, and the Dead played OK the first set. But during the second set, by the time they kicked into "Good Lovin'" and shined the floor lights on the heads of dancing thousands and everybody went nuts--well, they had me.
Among Garcia's and the Dead's major influences were boogie-woogie, urban blues, bluegrass and rhythm & blues. That's a whole lot of blues--all of them expressing a shared understanding about suffering, love and death that was unique to the blues. Start with the pain, then shake it off while tripping out on the dance floor. Mainly they wanted to give the people something to dance to. Garcia would sing the story--in a weak voice but with great emotional power--then seize the melody and discuss it with his guitar, rework it, take it places. Convey anxiety, fear, love, lust and unfolding the multilayered wonders of the universe. And it had a beat you could dance to. Endless experimentation, endless jams, repetition with variation, acid grooves.
That guitar had the purest tones, its crying melting into singing until we all felt better.
Q. Why do Deadheads swirl their arms when they dance?
A. To keep the music out of their eyes.
To observers and participants, rock & roll has become the new religion of the younger generations. The Grateful Dead's spiritual vision embodied freedom and kindness--celebrated at the concerts and carried beyond.
"You never knew where Jerry was going to take you," recalls one friend and concert veteran.
Another friend, who is highly sensitive but doesn't do drugs yet attended 150 Dead shows, started feeling anxious one time during an intense jam. Then she got a telepathic message that she felt came directly from Garcia: "I won't take you anywhere you don't want to go." And he didn't.
When Jerry would miss a vocal note horribly, or forget the words, or mess up on guitar, we'd all cheer and he'd just grin--then often go on to play something truly inspired. Most GD fans did not worship Garcia, but we did love him unconditionally.
Not Fade Away
So, now that it's all over, what's left?
Raves are the direct descendants of the acid tests. They still attract the young and scare the straight.
The Dead played lots of free concerts and benefits, and usually let fans record their shows with full knowledge that they would pass copies around. Nowadays, rock stars are almost expected to perform gratis for causes, and progressive artists circumvent big record companies and build their own fan bases by offering their music for free on the Internet.
Dead-style jamming led to jam bands, who carry on the experimental music and dance tradition. GD cover bands keep popping up like mushrooms in a cow pasture. To this day, as often as not, there'll be some guy attempting to play Grateful Dead songs on Pacific Avenue. It's OK to sing along.
Love that's real will not fade away.
Art O'Sullivan hosts 'The Golden Road' program, which features Grateful Dead for nonbelievers, Wednesdays from 3 to 6pm on KZSC-FM Santa Cruz (88.1).
[Edited by Ten Thousand Motels] |
| August 5th, 2005 07:02 PM |
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| Child of the Moon |
Thanks for sharing, TTM! |
| August 8th, 2005 04:25 PM |
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| Happy Motherfucker!! |
Oh how I miss that man and those sweet guitar notes filling the universe with something magical that just can't ever be captured again. The 10th annersery of his death is approaching, and for me it will be a very sad day, yet beautiful as I listen to Dead music continuously throughout the day and reach in and pull up trunk loads of memories of the many nights that I spent having a truly unique musical experience with the man. I've had the pleasure of meeting all the member of The Dead except Jerry, yet I always felt as if I had known him like he was one of my best friends. It's very rare that you have a relationship with someone like that, someone you have never meet but felt as if you were part of his family, and we were. After seeing The Dead well over 150 times, I look back at those wonderful days and realize just how much I learned from Jer.
Ultimately my life changed the evening of July 7th 1987, when I caught my first Dead show in Roanoke Virginia. Not being a big fan before then, I had no idea that my life would be forever changed from the first notes of Mississippi Half-Step. I was completely blown away by Jerry and the band. I had never witnessed anything like it in my life, almost bordering on a true religious experience. The music moved me effortlessly and Jerry's notes swirled around the arena practically stabbing arrows of joy throughout my soul. It was the best sounding concert that I have ever heard up to that point. The music was crystal clear, yet loud enough to shake the rafters when they wanted to. It sounded like the very best home stereo system in the world. There were not very many speakers on stage, as most all the sound was coming directly from their awesome PA system. I had never heard a band sound so damn good! And the place was rocking baby! I didn't know many of the songs but yet I was totally blown away by each and every one. Whether it was Jerry or Bob singing, each song was like a breath of fresh air considering all the hair band crap that was happening around that time period.
Anyway, I walked out of that show a different person, it did indeed change my life, the way I looked at things, being a musician, the way I approached music, my ideas about society and so much more.
That was the beauty about this band and Jerry, sometimes they were not so great, not every night can be, but it was on those nights when everything clicked and the band and fans became one, was what made The Grateful Dead truly special. It was those nights that you chased, and when you found yourself locked into one, by God you knew it because there was nothing on this earth that could bring such bliss and pure joy as a Dead show. When they were "ON", you certainly knew it!
The second night in Roanoke they played "The Last Time" and the place rocked uncontrollably. It wasn't like The Stones, but something entirely different and it made you feel great! Jerry and the boys always did have a love for Stones music as they (The Dead, JGB, Old & In The Way, Ratdog) had covered many of their tunes throughout the years, including LSTNTG, Satisfaction, Dead Flowers, Torn and Frayed, Wild Horses, As Tears Go By and I’m sure a few more that I can’t think of off hand.
So, as the 10th anniversary of Jerry’s death comes and goes, not only fans of The Dead, but music lovers in general, should take a minute to think about him and all the good that he did for music. But, it was not only music that made Jerry the legend that he is, but his humble humanity as well. He supported many great causes by playing benefit shows, donating money to things he truly believed in, such as the rain forest preservation, homeless shelters and the continuation of music in the class rooms for students. (He donated thousands of dollars to make sure that schools in California had instruments and all the material that they needed for students to excel in music development) Yes, Jerry had his many faults as well, like the monkey on his back that he just couldn’t seem to shake, but I believe that he will always be remembered for what mattered the most to him, his music. Jerry had a true talant and sound that will never be captured again. His playing was sophisticated, yet he could make the song by playing the most simplist solo imaginable. Just one note and you could tell it was Jerry Garcia, that’s how unique his sound and tone was. He always said it not what you play but what you don’t play that can make a song played live a success or failure. On the many times that I had the pleasure of seeing him, most of the time he was “On”, and that was what it was all about. He could easily bring out every emotion in your soul. There were many times that I shed a tear when he was singing a heart felt ballad such as Morning Dew or Stella Blue. It was like he was singing it directly to you and that he meant every single word.
It’s sad to say that the last year of his life his playing was not very inspired and he was forgetting a lot of the lyrics as well. You could see in his eyes and face, up on those huge video screens, this was a man that was dying before our very eyes. But in one of his last performances, as he was singing an emotional “Brokedown Palace”, you could tell that the end was near and that somewhere deep inside, he knew it also. The Summer Tour of 95’ had been a disaster from the start. There where way to many people at the shows, fans crashing the gates, riots, a roof collapsed at a camping area killing several people, lighting had also took the life of another as she awaited to enter a show. Then there was the death threat on Jerry’s life, which caused the band to perform the 2nd set at Deer Creek with the house lights on. The scene had become total chaso and so had Jerry’s life.
When he checked himself into Serenity Knolls Rehab Center on August 8th, everyone knew, especially the band members that Jerry had to win his long battle this time or the future of The Grateful Dead would be in jeopardy. His health combined with the disaster of the Summer Tour could quite simply mean that the band would be forced to stop playing live, and this is a band that lived for the road. But none of that mattered anymore as news broke out of San Fransisco on the morning of August 9th. Jerry was dead at the age of 53, and suddenly a fantasy world that I and millions of others alike loved so much, all came crashing down. That was one of the saddist days of my life. When I heard the news I told my boss that a friend had just died and that I needed to go home. Of course when I told him it was Garcia, he couldn’t understand or comprehend how I could ask to go home from work because of a “druggie rock star” that I didn’t even know personal had died. Needless to say, I gave him a few choice words and out the door I went. All evening friends and family were calling to offer their condolences, because they knew what Jerry meant to me and his fans, and his passing was really like a best friend had just died, there wasn‘t a bit of difference. If you were a Deadhead, then you know exactly what I’m talking about, for those that were not, this was something that was hard to understand. I spent the evening listening to his music, looking at pictures, reminiscing and shedding quite a few tears. The next evening there was a memorial service nearby where about two thousand people had showed up to pay their respect.
Yeah, the long strage trip was over, but the music never stopped. For the past 10 years Bob Weir and Phil Lesh has seen to it to carry the torch with their own bands and keep the music alive and well. Everytime that I’ve seen these bands, Garcia’s presence is still there, watching over the flock and smiling about the beautiful music still coming from the stage. That’s the thing, long after the surviving menbers are gone, as well as you and I, Garcia’s legacy will remain. It’s rare that a shinning star can remain burning brightly throughout history, but Jerry Garcia’s sweet guitar and fabulous songs will be doing just that.
For Jerry’s entire life he always made sure that he put others first, his fans, his crew and his music, but in the end he couldn’t help himself and that’s one of the greatest tragedies in rock music history. I for one couldn’t careless about the man’s faults, they were his to deal with and his alone, but if I could just say something to him, it would be “Thank you for enriching my life Jer”
Once In Awhile You Get Shown The Light In The Strangest Places If You Look At It Right!
Jerry Garcia 1942-1995
Fare Thee Well, Fare Thee Well, I Love You More Then Words Can Tell, Listen To The River Sing Sweet Songs To Rock My Soul. --Brokedown Palace -Garcia/Hunter
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