April 1, 1973 Review: The Grateful Dead at the Aud

 


The death of George Frayne, a/k/a Commander Cody, stirred up fond memories from fans who attended a show that he and the Lost Planet Airmen played at UB in 1972, opening for the New Riders of the Purple Sage. I can’t remember if I was there (if I can’t remember, I probably was – I’d already spent a happy night boogieing to the Airmen and delighting in their rendition of “Hot Rod Lincoln” out in San Francisco the previous summer). Nevertheless, the review assignment went to freelancer Jim Bisco. He panned the show.

Since I was on the news side of things in those days, not many reviews came my way, as I was reminded when I recently dug into concert dates from back then on microfilm. Jim Bisco didn’t like the Grateful Dead much when they came through in 1972. However, when Jerry Garcia and company returned March 31, 1973, with the New Riders as openers, I drew the assignment. 

The Grateful Dead

Takes Ultimate Trip 

“Truckin’ off to Buffalo,

Thinkin’ you’ve got to mellow slow …” 

          He wears them well, he does, St. John from Philadelphia, that brightly striped velvet shirt and that six-foot red embroidered ribbon that crosses his chest.

          He pops into The News Saturday to find tickets and the time it takes to learn that the Grateful Dead-New Riders of the Purple Sage concert that night is sold out, he talks about how he’s been following the Dead’s tour and how intense they’re getting.

          Being particularly good in Rochester, they encored after first he (he claimed), then the whole crowd lit matches in appreciation. He’d get in somehow tonight, he reckoned.

          The Dead, with roots going back to early West Coast psychedelia, always has had a special relationship with its now-sizeable cult audience.

* * *

THE OBJECT is to reach that special feeling of love and total communion and peace with the universe. And the concerts are long because it takes time to soften and mold some 14,000 thoroughly stoned (“Acid,” the kid in the aisle yelled, “gimme some acid.”) long-hairs into a ball of understanding.

          The New Riders started at 7 p.m. sharp and for a while they weren’t getting through. To overcome the hall-wide hassles of settling in the big crowd of shuffling latecomers, something stronger than the mellow “You Been Lately on My Mind” was needed.

          Four songs on is a fast, hokey rockabilly number, Rick Nelson’s “Hello, Mary Lou; Goodbye, Heart.” Finally the settling becomes invisible and there’s a connection between the crowd and what’s on stage.

          From there, the Riders rely more on the broad elements of their pedal-steel-sweetened style to prepare for the subtle entry (after tuning) of “Glendale Train.” Then they boogie into a long “Willie and the Hand Jive” and they’re off.

* * *

WHEN THE Dead appear before the floating fans at 8:30, they meet more confusion than excitement. The first half of the more than three-hour show is devoted to bringing everyone into the music.

          It’s a case of band and audience wanting to be good for one another, the Dead providing gently throbbing, guitar-dominated music which clings to you and makes you want to move, singing of card playing, the old West, love, life on the road, life on the run, life.

          “Playing in the Band” brings everyone together. The group’s long and beautifully abstract break lets you know all about how playing in the band really feels. When the chorus finally comes back, you have a new understanding, a new gusto as you sing along.

          A lot of smiles, stoned brotherhood and cosmic well-being during intermission. When the Dead returns, it and the audience are one, floating together on an ocean of ever-widening delights.

* * *

“BERTHA,” a sublime section, then “Truckin’,” with the whole crowd dancing. The Buffalo verse comes up and there’s cheers.

          You notice how much weight second guitarist Bob Weir carries. Trading solo riffs and melding sounds with guitar-playing mastermind Jerry Garcia. Singing most of the leads. Getting a lift with high harmonies from Donna Godchaux, wife of pianist Keith Godchaux.

          “Sugar Magnolia” is a euphoria which fades into a long “Sunshine Daydream” finale. The matches the crowd lights as the band goes off (could it be the work of St. John?) are bright enough to illuminate the pitch-black stage.

          The Dead takes its constituents to midnight with an encore of “Casey Jones,” flying on the very edge of the moment between limitless stoned excitement and imminent disaster. It’s the ultimate trip. When they finish, there’s no more left to be done.

* * * * *

FOOTNOTE: The tagline above the review says Kleinhans Music Hall, but it wasn’t. It was Memorial Auditorium. This would be the first of three times I reviewed the Grateful Dead in 1973. The setlist, courtesy of setlist.fm: 

Mississippi Half-Step Uptown Toodeloo

The Race Is On

Sugaree

Mexicali Blues

Box of Rain

Tennessee Jed

Jack Straw

Big Railroad Blues

El Paso

Row Jimmy

Looks Like Rain

They Love Each Other

Playing in the Band

(intermission)

Promised Land

Bertha

Greatest Story Ever Told

He’s Gone

Truckin’

Drums

Spanish Jam

I Know You Rider

Sugar Magnolia

(encore)

Casey Jones

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