



Everyone remembers their first. It seems like only yesterday, because I remember it so well. My connection to the Grateful Dead came of the non-traditional manner. I was surely aware of them during my high-school days, but for whatever reason I spent most of my time deep in drug abuse, searching for anything that might circumvent the hole in my heart. I fell deep into bands like Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin, but I tasted barely a hint of the Grateful Dead.





A few years after high school and the subsequent debacle that followed, I found myself sitting outside during a damp and dreary winter day in Newport Beach, California. I was sitting anxiously on the abrasive cement fence, wondering why I was still alive? I was back in rehab again. Just a month before that I was betting frivolously at a roulette table, in God only knows what casino, somewhere amongst the wretched Las Vegas strip. I woke up one morning and realized I had to get out of there. I had a definite drinking problem, and even more problematic, it seemed I was running out of reasons to live. I drove back to a treatment center that I had checked out of merely months ago, but this time I was there because I wanted to be. I was 21 years old and felt like I was 50. I was tired. Tired of lying. Tired of trying to quiet my restless brain to no avail. The alcohol had stopped working, but the good news was that I was willing to try an alternative. Sobriety. This serendipitous experience transgressed into so many wonderful things.





I met my sponsor in Alcoholics Anonymous and I was ready to do anything that was asked of me. His name was Alex, and he was oddly stern, yet subtly sincere. I was ready to listen, and I turned my trust to him. His guidance would propel me on to nearly 7 years of sobriety, but there was something even more profound that came from our friendship. Little did we know, that one Friday evening would change my life forever. Somehow he talked my miserable ass into taking a car ride to Los Angeles to check out a concert. I was reluctant, I was unhappy, but I also secretly hoped to find some happiness within sobriety.





The show was at the majestic El Rey Theatre. Gorgeous chandeliers, and red velvet carpet. If not for the tie dye and hippies it would’ve seemed like quite the prestigious affair. The band was Dark Star Orchestra, back in the day when the phenomenal John Kadlecik was still in the band. As memory serves, I recall the show being the band’s interpretation of a 1977 show. I had a ball of time, but the song that somehow spawned my admiration was Samson & Delilah. I remember the lyrics, “If i had my way, I would tear this whole building down”. Then every time I thought the song was over, the drums would start back up and they’d go through the motions again. I was awestruck! It was more than the music from the band that shook my soul. The atmosphere, the friendliness, the authentic enjoyment from everyone, it all intrigued the hell out of me. How had I gone so long without entering the vast world of music that the Grateful Dead had to offer? This show opened the door, and my life has never been the same.





They aren’t just another band. I’ve often been left for a loss of words when asked what it is about the Dead that makes me so devoted, so lost in admiration? It took me along time to even realize what it was, but then one day the question was asked again. A friend asked, “what is it you feel when you go to see this band live” (In this instance the reference was in regards to Dead and Company)? “The easiest way to explain it is to equate it to love, I said. Have you ever been in love? What I feel for this band is like unconditional love, but the difference is that I don’t have to factor in any possibility that it will end. It’s a boundless form of love that is freer than any form of conditional love that we might have between humans”.





I am head over heels for this band because time and again, they take me places I’ve never been. It’s a lyrical journey down a trail of sublime contemplation, during each and every song. Each song can take you along a psychedelic jaunt through rivers and valleys that you never knew existed. You can shed tears of joy, followed by utter serenity in a matter of seconds. The way I feel about the Grateful Dead, can be surmised into two words, sheer love.

Having lamented through some old memories I thought it could be interesting to see how these feelings have evolved. Truth be told, like many of us, I was upset with the choice of John Mayer. Admittedly, I was aware of his lofty status as a blues aficionado, while at the same time being a surprisingly famous pop star. Their announcement of their first tour (shortly after Fare Thee Well) confounded my feelings and I was overcome with the thoughts many people had. They were out for a money grab, a final pay day. Nevertheless, I decided to let the music do the talking, praying that this band would put together something of substance. After all, Bob Weir, Bill Kreutzmann and Mickey Hart wouldn’t throw together a band just for the money would they? Only time would tell… Honestly, my biggest fear was John’s voice and whether or not he’d butcher Jerry’s songs.

July 4th, 2017, Dead and Company has capped off their third tour, and I’ve attended some 25 concerts. I’ve been limited to 25 shows merely because of money, responsibilities and a cat named Jerry, but holy shit am I thankful for the opportunities I’ve had.





This longwinded preamble was all for following synopsis of Dead and Company’s triumphant 2017 tour.



Dates attended:

Las Vegas

Phoenix

Los Angeles *2

Mountain View *2

Boulder *2

Pittsburgh

Bristow

New York

New Jersey

Cuyahoga Falls

Chicago *2





First off, I’d like to thank all my friends and family for contributing and enabling me to go on such an unbelievable journey. Most of whom will never read this, jokes on them. Without their lodging, hospitality, love and friendship, none of this would have ever been possible. I am insanely fortunate to have experienced what I have, so thank you all. While I’m on the topic of thanks, I better mention the fans. Thanks to every lovely person I chatted with, from city to city, amphitheater to stadium. Sure makes you feel loved and a part of something special when you find yourself in some bizarre colonial farm country in Virginia and you find a old lanky fellow running toward you at the gas station. He leapt into my arms, gave me a hug and said “I’m so glad you’re here! Do you know where the venue is?” I happily had him follow me to the venue where we inevitably ventured inside and enjoyed one of the finest shows of the tour. That’s right, Bristow was absolutely top-notch. Thank you friends, from those I know, to those I’ll meet down the road. I love you all.



Dead and Company, the jazziest blues band to ever delve into such a category. One of reasons this tour was so special, was due to the places this band went with the songs. They ventured deep into psychedelic regions, getting weird, making people in the crowd talk and become bored, but I only became more interested and excited with each show. Never in my life did I think I’d utter the statement that “Space” is now my most anticipated part of the show. Thanks in part to Jeff Chimenti for leading them along new and unchartered territories, but we should respect the entire band for following him along. I would stand on my tip-toes gleaning in with curiosity as they scurried or deliberated through space, always open to any place they might travel. The band went deeper and creepier than they have during the previous two tours. This could be easily explained by saying the band is beginning to gel and find a level of comfort. However, this chemistry shouldn’t be under appreciated, as it is not something that can develop without a natural bond and genuine cohesiveness through the band. This band doesn’t sound like a money grab. They don’t play through some contrived notion of existence. This is the real deal. If you attend a show, there is no denying the tenacious shackle that perpetuates the engine of this band. They are one entity, with each member contributing on an individualistic yet empathetic level of honesty and purity. They play from a mountain top, curtailing the energy of the wind, transposing their ease and freeness into a once unmatched and unobtainable level of musicianship. Something that hasn’t been reached since the death of Jerry Garcia.

Some might cringe with my assessment. Many have been struck, seemingly unable to comprehend the cohesive contribution of John Mayer. As great as John has been, respect and gratitude must be acknowledged, for the greatly overlooked stage right and left staples, Oteil Burbridge and Jeff Chimenti. In regards to Oteil, I’ve never enjoyed watching any musician play more than I adore watching Oteil slide all over the bass. This is especially surprising considering that I am a guitar player and John Mayer is the epitome of everything a guitar player could aspire to be. Yet, everyday I’d chose to watch Oteil drive the show over John’s remarkable endeavors. Oteil takes risks, he laughs at his mistakes (and Bob’s), he propels John beyond the usual dimensions, into the space beyond comprehension. Oteil dances, shakes his ass, turns his back to the crowd, skips barefoot on his toes, and sometimes even talks to his wife, all the while making me smile sheepishly.





On the other side of the stage sits Oteil’s friend, Jeff Chimenti. Jeff has always been a remarkably solid pianist, and he is only starting to reel in the credit he has so long deserved. They’ve finally turned him up into the mix. What a travesty it was all the shows his key’s were inaudible. He knows the Dead’s catalog as well or even better than some of the remaining members of the Dead. He conducts and guides the entire band, when some are lost, or when direction is warranted. He plays humbly, ambitiously, and always with a dynamically enjoyable veracity. Without Jeff’s exquisite jazz undertones, it’s unlikely the band would’ve ever reached such psychedelic and explorative sounds. From the funk in Shakedown and out toward the stars during Dark Star, the boys have encompassed the whole universe. It was an unforgettable tour, and one look at the band during night two at Wrigley Field, makes it seem highly unlikely that they won’t hit the road again. Let the exploration continue…



