The Grateful Dead’s official-release record of 1974 (as of June 2021) skips only the Springfield show at the end of June and rejoins the band back in Fresno not quite three weeks later.
Unfortunately, the first-song “get the recording’s mix together” routine returns, too, but it’s in shape by the time we get to the solo in Bertha. Garcia’s soloing, but a bouncy Phil and energy from Keith kind of steal the scene.
Bob has to politely remind the crowd that the fire marshal isn’t into fireworks, adding in quite Bob-like fashion after a beat, “And he’s got a point.”
Bertha’s energy signaled that the band was feeling a little rambunctious and ready to blow out some rust (not that there was any) after the long break, and I can’t believe I’m saying this but Mexicali Blues was a great call.
Bob has to politely remind the crowd that the fire marshal isn’t into fireworks, adding in quite Bob-like fashion after a beat, “And he’s got a point.”
Phil and Keith again provide an extra little boost, this time to Deal, before a standard 5-Beat It On Down The Line.
Phil teases Greatest Story Ever Told but the band declines. A less discriminating fan yells, “Play music!” and the band obliges with light dance of a 1974 Row Jimmy.
“Here’s a half a dollar, if you dare …”
Bill and Weir holding down the rhythmic fort together in the middle of the stereo field, while adding those occasional flecks of island sound … so good.
Donna gets faked out by the repeated chorus at the end – haven’t we all? – but covers it beautifully.
Picking Up Steam
Me & Bobby McGee hits a tempo sweet spot. I found myself paying more attention to the lyrics than usual, and it left Garcia room to play laid back or to rip it as he wished. Billy kicks up the energy with some cymbal work between the final choruses. By the end of the song, that restless energy creeps back into view, which was a perfect circumstance for …
Scarlet Begonias, which garners a good response right away despite only a couple of months since From The Mars Hotel’s release.
Listen to Phil leading up to “Ain’t nothing wrong with the way she moves …”
This probably wouldn’t make my list of favorite Scarlets despite its ’74 lineage because Jerry pulls out a tinnitus-inspiring guitar tone for the solo that is more reminiscent of 1978 (to be fair, he switches tones after the first lap).
In-Depth Playing
After decent visits to El Paso and with Tennessee Jed, Playing In The Band arrives on schedule to wrap up the set. I think Keith managed to find a new piano line in one of the opening verses, which would be kind of impressive when you think about it.
Phil jumps out after the opening for a change of pace. Garcia joins with that classic drippy guitar tone soon enough, as Lesh alternates between lower notes and venturing pretty far up the fretboard. Bob and Keith are working but lay back a little further.
Around 8 minutes in, Keith steps up as Garcia’s foil in a more typical way for the era, although Phil isn’t exactly backing off, either. Keith and Jerry have their own conversation while still showing now and then that they are, in fact, listening to Phil.
Keith steps up as Garcia’s foil in a more typical way for the era, although Phil isn’t exactly backing off, either. Keith and Jerry have their own conversation while still showing now and then that they are, in fact, listening to Phil.
We reach the 12-minute mark still riding the same basic tempo, which is unusual, but Keith starts a catchy rhythmic pattern of chords that tilts them into some new ideas. Things finally dissolve into something more angular and/or chromatic a couple of minutes later. Phil and Keith duck out while the other three freeform.
Sometime after 16 minutes, you can briefly hear how far Phil can split the signal from his Quad bass when he wants, some strings far left and some far right in the sound field.
After a few unremarkable minutes, a pulse develops that sounds like the first hint of reentry. Surprising since we’re still almost 8 minutes from the end of the track. Bill threatens to break it down but doesn’t, and Jerry soon settles the question of whether this is reentry or not.
Even then, he finds another unique figure to play with as the band lays textures down on top of the underlying chord. Bill picks up the pace and they return to the main theme in good shape to finish up.
My favorite era for continuous PITB’s is probably the second half of 1972, where they hit a 16- to 18-minute sweet spot for quality of content + length (see: Dick’s Picks 36). This one, as you’d expect, is not bad, though.
They’ll be back in just a few minutes, so everybody hang loose.
Kinda Sleepy
There’s a 15-minute Seastones. I’m skipping it.
Brown-Eyed Women gets the call to lead off the second set, one of only two times it appeared after the first set in ’74 and the only time where it opened. Possibly related, this one’s a little sleepy.
Bob tries to rectify the situation with Me & My Uncle and Jerry brings it right back down again with It Must Have Been The Roses. He does commit to the vocal, even if nothing else really stands out.
Garcia and Weir split the tempo difference (and the vocals) and call Jack Straw. Like Brown-Eyed Women, it’s a rare foray for Mr. Straw beyond the first set, the second of only three that year. On the back half, Garcia singlehandedly injects a little electricity into the set.
He’s Gone had been absent since the second “warmup” Winterland gig in February. Turns out that five months is sufficiently long to forget a couple of the arrangement’s finer points.
He’s Gone had been absent since the second “warmup” Winterland gig in February. Turns out that five months is sufficiently long to forget a couple of the arrangement’s finer points. More than once, Jerry skips a couple of bars ahead. This rusty take isn’t a candidate for any short list conversations. However, it’s welcome if nothing else for its outro, which tries hard to make you forget about a little earlier sloppiness and almost pulls it off.
This is also the only He’s Gone of 1974 (maybe beyond?) that veers not toward Truckin’ or Other One but U.S. Blues, continuing the band’s summer experiment with different ways to get to U.S. Blues.
Some train-adjacent noises suggest the band might try a real transition, which I was hoping for, but no. They back off, noodling for a few seconds before Garcia kicks off U.S. Blues more conventionally.
This U.S. Blues finally flashes some above-average energy. Listen to Lesh end on a McCartneyesque note that I’m not convinced was intentional.
WRS > Spanish Jam
Weather Report Suite commences the nightly 50something-minute excursion, and it sounds especially nice, carefully wrought. So naturally, Garcia misses his cue. I’m sure he’ll make up for it later.
Part 1 passes without incident and so does the first chunk of Let It Grow. In this recording, you could be excused for just focusing on the rhythm section, with Bill on point and Phil up in the mix.
As things heat up, Keith moves back to the piano to surprising effect in spots. After another couple of verses, the recording shifts to another source and/or everybody speeds up a little. Could be either, as Jerry and Keith both take off in this passage.
Lesh has been riffing this entire time while Weir adds that particular rhythmic umami that only he knows how to prepare. He’s really more of the rhythm section in passages like this than Phil.
Just when Garcia finishes a sequence of digging for new ideas, Kreutzmann goes to work on the hi-hat then the ride cymbal. Keith propels the action forward with a punch figure as Garcia retools and comes back. Lesh has been riffing this entire time while Weir adds that particular rhythmic umami that only he knows how to prepare. He’s really more of the rhythm section in passages like this than Phil.
The WRS crosses the 18-minute mark at full speed before finally showing signs of tailing off. Phil repeats a four-note descending theme, Keith turns up his own wah pedal, and the song finally falls away in favor of a more eerie passage.
Tinny lead guitar tone and super-fat bass chords suggest we might be headed for a Spanish Jam.
That’s exactly where we were heading. Much nicer after Garcia switches tones. Lesh continues to play lead as Godchaux provides some underpinning along with Bob.
This is a good time to mention that the day marked Keith’s 26th birthday. Just 26!
Lesh retreats to something simpler for, well, maybe two minutes and the firm of Garcia and Godchaux really find their two-headed groove for a stretch. After ten pretty good minutes in this space, they turn their attention toward Eyes Of The World and start making their way in that direction.
Eyes (Mostly) In Focus
To their credit, it takes almost three minutes to fully get there. When they do arrive at the first verse and onward, everyone sounds completely relaxed and ready.
Finally in the last chorus, we had been overdue for conflicting chorus lyrics that inevitably result in what comes off to the listener as “the heart has its sneetches.” You know what I’m talking about.
Just when you think it might be a little toooooo relaxed, Bill spends a little extra effort on that snare/hi-hat combo and it’s right back in the zone. Keith keeps it closer to the vest during the solos, serving more as an alternate Weir than a foil for Garcia.
Finally in the last chorus, we had been overdue for conflicting chorus lyrics that inevitably result in what comes off to the listener as “the heart has its sneetches.” You know what I’m talking about.
Phil steps forward per usual. Listen to the dual rhythm guitar motor of Garcia/Weir in action.
Maybe that’s what the others were doing when they missed Kreutzmann’s first cue to hit the ’74 jam, or maybe they just weren’t done yet. Even when they do find that opening, they don’t really coalesce around the jam’s energy as well as usual.
Jerry puts them through the key-change paces in sharper form, though. Then the actual 7/4 passage sounds tighter than anything else in the performance. That and the bringing it in for a landing with some panache constitutes a noteworthy rally for this Eyes, and so we move to China Doll.
Pretty, Tired
The sound is nice. Jerry flubs the first line of a verse. What sounds like a random bottle bouncing across a floor shows up in the right channel for a couple of seconds.
Most importantly, they nail the minor-to-major moment and carry it home accented by harmonies and swirly Keith fills.
There will be no encore, further supporting the theory that everyone in the place may be a tad weary, but Bob Weir is certainly not letting any show end with a friggin’ China Doll.
An appreciative but perhaps also slightly tired crowd responds. There will be no encore, further supporting the theory that everyone in the place may be a tad weary, but Bob Weir is certainly not letting any show end with a friggin’ China Doll. Into One More Saturday Night we go (Friday be damned), and he does conjure some of the band energy you expected to appear earlier in that Eyes jam. Big finish and it’s good night, Selland Arena.
A night off before a stretch of nine days including just three yet-unreleased shows spanning an unlikely trio of cities: Hollywood, Chicago, and Roanoke.
Grateful Dead
Dave’s Picks 17
7/19/74 Fresno, CA
Selland Arena
CD 1: bertha / Mexicali blues / deal / BIODTL / row jimmy / me & bobby mcgee / scarlet begonias / el paso / Tennessee jed / playing in the band
Intermission: seastones
Set 2: brown-eyed women / me & my uncle / it must have been the roses / jack straw / he’s gone > u.s. blues / weather report suite > jam > eyes of the world > china doll // one more Saturday night
