I accidentally a Dead show

I’m a casual Grateful Dead fan. When I was younger, the whole thing seemed ridiculous to me. It was a culture I didn’t understand. I couldn’t believe that in the 90’s people my age were following this hippie band around. I wasn’t into drugs and the music seemed aimless and neutered. Two drummers? It didn’t have a pocket.

In junior high, I loved “Touch of Grey” and its accompanying video. But it was a fluke hit.

As an adult, I discovered American Beauty and Workingman’s Dead. The same way I had learned to appreciate Steely Dan’s humor and groove, I started to get the shambolic freedom of the Dead’s appeal. The weird musical modes, the naive lyrics. It sometimes seemed like the backing vocals melodies came out of a cosmic random number generator. Jerry’s froggy voice had a kind of welcoming familiarity to it.

Last week, I was in Nashville on business. On Wednesday night all my colleagues were excited about checking out some music. I’m kind of burnt out on live music, especially country music, but I can recognize great musicianship and I’m a team player. We were heading back from dinner towards Broadway when we passed a really busy Bridgestone Arena. I assumed there was a hockey game or something, but the crowd seemed off. Lots of white dreadlocked dudes with one finger in the air. People were kind of stumbling around. The air had a funky smell about it.

A quick Google search revealed that Dead & Company, a band featuring three members of the Dead, John Mayer, and a couple other guys, were playing at the arena. On a whim, a friend of mine (a more serious Deadhead) and I decided to try to scalp a couple tickets. The show had started a couple hours ago, but we figured these things usually last like 5 hours, so we could catch the second half.

For people with jobs, tickets were easy to score, and we soon found ourselves immersed in a pretty crazy scene. Young people, old people, middle aged people. Poor people, rich people, middle class people. Stoned people, drunk people and sober people.

This was already the most surreal concert-going experience of my life. Five minutes ago, I was walking home from a business dinner, and now I was at a Dead show. I bought a shirt to commemorate the total randomness of this cosmic aberration, and we found our seats. Stage right — only like eight rows back! Crazy.

It was intermission, so we had some time to take in the surroundings. Lots of burnouts. Dudes who looked like they passed out in 1971 and woke up at Bridgestone Arena just moments ago. High school kids simply looking for an excuse to get baked in public. Young women wearing dirty dresses over dirty jeans. Most people’s hair looked like it was about to spontaneously combust. And the air was funky indeed. Funky with the sweet leaf.

Some old dudes ambled on stage. Then a dude with a PRS and a Japanese tattoo sleeve. Then a dude with a six string bass. I marveled at it all.

For the next two and a half hours we basked in the glory of some nebulous, lazy Dead jams. At times, the only thing holding it together was the bass player, Oteil Burbridge, and his solid groove. I eventually forgave him for those extra two strings. The double drummer thing went off the rails on the reg, but Oteil kept things really anchored.

I’m not a John Mayer fan, but he did a serviceable job. He didn’t simply turn everything into a blues. His solos were in the spirit of Jerry but it was more homage than impersonation. He only sang one song in the second set, and it wasn’t a highlight for me, but it was cool. All things considered, I’d probably prefer him over Trey Anastasio. Trey doesn’t seem “gritty” enough. I can’t believe I’m calling John Mayer “gritty”.

The songs were so long! At least 40 minutes was taken up by a terrible drum solo followed by a totally pointless space jam. But the song-songs were good. I recognized most of the tunes but I couldn’t remember many of the titles. Weir’s vocals sounded confident, if a bit ragged.

These guys don’t need the money. They must still love playing. I have no idea why Mayer’s doing it. Maybe he wants to expand his playing. I don’t think he’s trying to expand his audience or gain some new “cred”. I think he’s just a fan.

After the second set ended, they came back out for one more: “Johnny B. Goode”. A weird choice for sure. Mayer, who I expected to be able to totally nail this one, seemed to have a little trouble with the Berry riffs. But the solo was good. I think it was Bob’s way of thanking John and reminding the audience that there were other people on stage…it was a nice gesture.

Anyway, I’m glad I had this chance to pay tribute. It was certainly memorable. What a crazy night.

The Dead are dead. Long live the Dead.