This night in Daly City would be kind of a headscratcher to memorialize as Dick’s Picks 24 ahead of quite a few other shows from the following months, really, except for two things. This concert marked the public debut of the Wall Of Sound, and it contained the final Playing In The Band > Uncle John’s Band > Morning Dew > Uncle John’s Band > Playing In The Band sandwich.
Was that, combined with the actual performance, enough to get it released sooner or later? Yeah, it was.
Cassidy At Last
The Dead played Wave That Flag 15 times in 1973 before putting it on the shelf after the RFK gig in June. So it had made its way to assorted traders by March 1974, but surely quite a few folks had not yet heard the fully formed (but not yet officially recorded) evening’s opener.
(I looked that stat up while waiting for Kidd Candelario to dial in the mix for this recording, having gotten things set for the actual house mix. It took him a minute or two.)
Oh, this show does have two other significant historical attributes on its side: the debuts of both Cassidy and Scarlet Begonias.
Everyone is most of the way there as far as having Scarlet Begonias together, but the way the band organizes itself through the verses would develop a couple more interesting edges and sparkly bits in the near future. In addition to the song feeling a bit truncated to those of us who would come to love it, Jerry was still getting a feel for the soloing terrain, and they also had yet to sort the ending.
As for Cassidy, it’s not only the first live performance but it has to be the shortest, clocking in inside of four minutes. It may have been brief, but it was overdue – nearly two years had passed since its studio release on Ace.
Bill’s drum pattern is a little more easygoing here in its first airing, and it does suit the song pretty nicely. Another novelty in the early, no-jam arrangement: a bit of pop group backup vocal ‘do-do-do’s” in the turnaround before the chorus.
With the debuts and a few other typical early numbers handled, things got more serious. This China > Rider’s transition jam really is pretty nice, with some Godchaux stylings around 2/3 in that don’t usually show up there. Jerry botched the opening of the headlight verse. C’est la vie.
On to the Weather Report Suite, enjoying its brief in-concert life as a full suite. The intro and part one are basically flawless. Only in the last 2-3 minutes did any little nitpicks creep into the performance. Other ’74 versions would go on to have a hotter jam down the homestretch.
The Last Triple-Decker
Next up, the big event: the Playing > UJB > Dew > UJB > Playing. The last of three such sandwiches ever played, and the only one of 1974, it opens on a note both inauspicious and auspicious.
On one hand, Bob’s vocal is back in the mix and he forgets some words out of the gate.
On the more interesting hand, the mix issue or the forgotten words or maybe both lead the band to do something they never do when the singer forgets the words: they stop completely.
Bob offers “a thousand pardons” to the forgiving crowd, and they take another whack at it. Everyone’s in a much better place by the time they reach the first jam, topped by Keith’s electric piano over in the right ear and complementing Garcia’s tone and playing very well.
The mix issue or the forgotten words or maybe both lead the band to do something they never do when the singer forgets the words: they stop completely.
One “advantage” of the Playing sandwich is it gives the common Playing structure the night off. Where the band might have dropped off into something more deconstructed 8 or 9 minutes in, they forge onward into less familiar territory here. Garcia does use the wah to pick up the intensity but backs off again as Weir and Godchaux spin our their separate spools of supporting texture.
Finally, everyone except Bill and Phil trail off a little bit as they circle around for the approach into Uncle John’s Band. Jerry finds the tone and everyone sits up and pays attention for the well executed pivot.
The UJB may be a little on the quick side, group harmonies throughout verse and chorus demonstrating their ragged charm. Phil is the only one who remembers “I live in a silver mine …” on time. The guitars keep it close to the vest until the coda jam, where Keith serves up some octaved wanderings that work quite well in this sonic stew.
By 8 minutes, they’ve done what they’re going to do with the jam and institute more of a holding pattern to make sure everyone’s ready to move on to Morning Dew.
Dew Dropped In
Phil drops a pronounced chord to signal the turn, which they maneuver again with no problem.
There’s nothing wrong with the Dew. It might be difficult for a Dew in the middle of this sandwich to achieve greatness, in part because it’s not a standalone that offers that ending cathartic moment for the audience. And for the band, it doesn’t come at the end of a set or a show – or even a sequence, as they know they have to start retracing the way back out of this five-pack the instant it’s over.
So what the Cow Palace crowd gets is what makes sense: typical good mid-2nd-set playing and some quite effective quieter passages, clean vocals, and a rare turn back into the UJB outro jam that hinges on a single complex chord from Garcia.
Here, they can finally do the a capella part, followed by the evening’s one instance of the outro jam that is actually an outro. The guys treat it well with assertive and jazzy playing, knowing they have somewhere to be but no specific time to get there.
Here, they can finally do the a capella part, followed by the evening’s one instance of the outro jam that is actually an outro. The guys treat it well with assertive and jazzy playing, knowing they have somewhere to be but no specific time to get there.
It becomes a quality example of how much listening is required when the game plan is basically everyone do their own thing. Soloing but sympathetic, individual paths but moving as one … the Dead, when they were on, were unparalleled at this skill.
The end of the jam folds into the Playing reentry really nicely, even if Donna’s vibrato switch still sounds stuck in the “on” position. The band takes this 45-minute sequence across the finish line with some gusto. Nobody considers this performance the best of the three, but it’s not bad at all. Definitely worth the second effort.
(By the way, have you seen this guy’s list of complete Playing sandwiches and other info?)
Rolling On
Where to go after the big set piece? Hit the road with another road trip song. Big River rolls on, no sign of fatigue.
You know who’d sound good doing this one? Lyle Lovett. The man with whichever-sized band can swing and “She loves you, big river, more than me” totally sounds like him.
They stick the landing.
Before uneventful versions of Wharf Rat and Sugar Magnolia close (with no encore), Bertha was a crowdpleaser that found a pleasant middle ground between the gallop (still my favorite) of ’72 and the boring lope that would overcome it later in the decade. It’s a comfortable but engaged gait here, made a little more interesting by not being either of the more common tempos.
After this final one-off gig, the band recorded most if not all of From The Mars Hotel and set out on the first proper 1974 string of dates.
Grateful Dead
3/23/74 @ The Cow Palace
u.s. blues / promised land / brown-eyed women / black-throated wind / scarlet begonias / BIODTL / deal / Cassidy / china cat sunflower > I know you rider / WRS / playing in the band > uncle john’s band > morning dew > uncle john’s band > playing in the band / big river / bertha / wharf rat / sugar magnolia
