Couches are supposed to be for resting and relaxation, so I don’t know why Couch Tour is enervating me so, but I am exhausted. This time last year, Bobby was in rehab and Billy was in Hawaii and John Mayer was just a callow farmboy from Tatooine; there was nothing but long stretches of nothing, time enough to concoct stories about MechaBilly and visit Little Aleppo.
Now, though, there are streams to keep up with and books, articles, conferences, documentaries to read or watch or peevishly demand free copies of.
I do it for you, though, Enthusiasts. After all, TotD is the Only Dead Site That Matters.
Oh, no. Stop that.
Is it not true? Is it not written?
Yes, but: you wrote it.
There you go.
Please just continue.
Many things to know, Enthusiasts. Options a-plenty in Deadworld: there is the Dead & Company show in Worcester, MA, which can be listened to here.
This is the poster:
The slightly observant will notice that the Dead’s iconography now extends to Steampunk, because absolutely everything hadn’t been ruined, but the inclusion of Steampunk signals that every single bit of reality is now terrible. (Steampunk is the only goggle-based aesthetic: everything and everyone involved in Steampunk has goggles on.)
The more observant will wonder how Brian May’s guitar got dragged into all of this.
The truly observant will realize that “Worcester” has been misspelled quite badly. (For those of you unfamiliar with Massachusetts, saying a Woostah show is in Boston is like saying the Newark Devils play in New York City.)
OR you could curl up with Without A Net. Not the live album, but instead a group of stunningly good musicians playing Dead tunes, featuring Reed Mathis from Billy and the Kids and a guy named Fareed Haque on guitar. Mr. Completely’s been ranting about this and rightly so: it is phenomenal – heavy, but with a bouncy groove. It sounds nothing like the Dead and that is the perfect compliment to both this band and to the Dead. It shows that the material–the canon they created–is worth keeping around for as long as we’ve held onto Gershwin and Foster. You should listen to this.
What about a book?
David Gans was kind enough to send me a copy of This Is All A Dream We Dreamed: An Oral History of the Grateful Dead and I’m looking forward to cracking it open. Blair Jackson is David Gans’ longtime collaborator and co-author, but he has not paid me my due tribute, so I’m calling this one a Gans book.
Anyway: go buy it. As I said, I haven’t started it yet, so it might be written in Latvian or have crushed spiders* between each chapter, but probably not.
*That’s a great idea for a horror book, actually: in between, say, page 190 and 191, there’s a real dead spider. That would scare people.