Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Live Killer

How about a show, Enthusiasts, an energetic and crackling bit of fun from the post-coma years? Check this out: 4/11/87 from the University of Illinois. Killer Sugaree. Black Muddy River? Also killer. Terrapin?

Killer?

Killer.

You lose your thesaurus?

Ran off with the dictionary. Heard they robbed a bank in Harrisburg.

Sounds like them.

There’s also a Desolation Row.

Garcia pitch in with the harmonies?

He does.

Love that shit.

Killer shit.

Stop that.

5 Comments

  1. i’ve written about this show before, but i can’t find any trace of it on my hard drive. so i’ll try again. disclaimer: i have no idea how much of the following really happened and how much is the embellishment that unavoidably accompanies 30-year-old memories.
    the weather was nasty, so we went in early. i have no idea where i was supposed to be sitting, but my buddy ET and i sat down in the second row. center seats.
    early in the first set, someone came to claim ET’s seat. i let him drift away on his own, mostly because she was wearing a transparent top. she also had an entire pharmacy in her bag, and a dozen roses. every so often, she would throw one at jerry. “he sang to me in new jersey.” (can’t blame him for that. i would have kept my eyes on her, even if she weren’t periodically hurling thorny missles in my direction.)
    interesting stuff was happening onstage too. before the first song started, the drummers were yelling at weir. bill had his arm around mickey’s neck and they were winking. weir didn’t say anything. he just shook his head and played around with his pedals. desolation row has a lot of verses. weir had a kind of cheat-sheet with the first few words of each verse taped to his mic stand, and he kept his eyes on it throughout the song. that’s when bill and mickey started playing around with hats. i think mickey wore three of them, which he removed, one at a time, during the course of the song. they also wore eye patches. everyone near the stage was pointing and laughing. did weir think we were laughing at him? maybe. he didn’t turn around, probably because he needed to keep his eyes on the lyrics.
    also: i remember it was a good loser. was there a crescendo of cymbals at the end of jerry’s solo? i’m a sucker for that.
    i can’t remember much about about miss see-through (except that she was totally out of her head), but we did have a long conversation during the intermission. i finally left my seat when terrapin started.
    coming out of the men’s room, walking along the concourse to the back of the pavillion (i wanted to better appreciate the lights during drums) during the f lydian jam before “since the end is never told,” i heard a scream. actually, it was more like a whole bunch of people went “WHOOP” at once. and then i saw why. a chicago police officer, in full uniform, with gun and handcuffs and everything, had begun dancing. and from his moves, he seemed to be hearing something more lively than what was being played on stage. even the spinners gave him room.
    i finally reached my desired seat, directly opposite the stage, and i agree about the terrapin. the end of terrapin, anyway. killer. the soundboard tapes do not convey how loud it was. like a spaceship was landing right on top of us.

  2. Jesus, how many Throwing Stones–>NFA’s did one band need to play?

  3. Luther Von Baconson

    April 17, 2017 at 6:27 pm

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