Category Archives: Grateful Dead

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In hopes of moving the learning curve ahead a little more rapidly, it’s been rumored that somebody in the Inner Circle dosed John Mayer’s cookies and milk prior to rehearsals this week. Having grown up in the “Bath Salts” Generation, John was a virgin to LSD. About an hour after puddling some of the Family crystal wash into Mayer’s afternoon snack, things began changing rapidly. What began as John’s strings feeling a little bit sticky ultimately turned into his entire guitar becoming a giant slug, according to sources. As things began to unfold, Billy was treated for severe abdominal cramps due to excessive laughter. It was a long and educational day with a spiritually cleansing result. The details have been hazy as reported from people further toward the outside of the insiders.

Apparently, while going over some songs, the LSD that an unknown individual named Billy, slipped into John’s snack began to come on stronger than initially expected. While making a few runs through Bob’s “Looks Like Rain”, apparently Mayer began crying and feeling as though it was mandatory for him to do love to Katy. Katy, who shared the cookies and milk with John, was feeling nervous as her stomach was churning like a bag of kittens in a washing machine for reasons she couldn’t understand. There was a sense of nervousness that had come over them both simultaneously. Her and John ran off but while attempting to make love, Mayer, a little too filled with acid, could only get hard in the middle. It looked like a garter snake swallowed a mouse. They both felt a little confused and decided to try to paint instead. On their way to purchase painting supplies, they purchased thousands of dollars of absolute and unrelated shit that appeared really beautiful at the moment. They were struck by an intense desire to walk on grass and headed to a park they saw in the distance. They found liberating conversation regarding the variety of animals that were all created for special and significant reasons and for a brief moment in time, had each one’s purpose completely figured out within the grand scheme of life on the planet. They hoped to remember all of this forever but forgot everything the minute they realized how completely green the grass was. Their combined discovery of every small item, seemingly overlooked for their entire lives up to this point, had them in a state of toddler like excitement at the planet around them.

It was reported that John came across an orange and was compelled to care for it like it was a baby bird. He felt the balanced and nutrient dense energy of the living food had summoned him to be a paternal force in the life experience of the fabled fruit. It was at this point the trip turned to unexpected places. While lying on his stomach in the park, a worm crawled into his visual field. His mind turned back to Pink Floyd’s The Wall Album as the worm quickly became a powerful judge within his spun mind. He sat before a Court of his peers and flashed back to his interview in Playboy Magazine. As the files in his brain began feeding him the contents of the interview, John saw himself in The Court. He began to realize as he revisited the contents of his interview that in all reality, he was a complete dickhead. He couldn’t remove the self image that was placed before him and etched in his hallucinating mind.
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He spent an hour or two in a bathroom inside of a Starbucks location to reflect on his past ills and sat before the jury in his mind nervously awaiting a verdict. Time nearly stood still as he sat repentant in a stall. His mind forced him to repetitively review his past transgressions until a loud knock came on the door scaring the living shit out of him. His meekly said to the door, “I’ll be right out…” He looked in the mirror, frightened and somewhat alarmed about his state of mind as well as his grayish green skin color. As he exited he tried hard to make eye contact with nobody and begged whatever listening deity exists in his world that he wouldn’t be noticed by anyone in his scrambled state. As he walked briskly down the street, the sun shone brightly on his face and he felt the release of the tension within his Soul as he realized he was as free as he chose to be regarding his past attitudes and ill ideas. A sense of relief came over him as he began hearing Althea play in his head. Even the thought of the sound of Garcia’s voice in his imagination seemed to cover of him with a profound sense of comfort. He reached for his phone that he totally forgot he had for the past 5 hours and put on the Althea that started this entire experience. The sound of the familiar lick that hooked him in the first place, along with the tone and delivery of Jerry’s vocal took his rough and weathered brain and cosmically embraced it. His entire being was totally engulfed in the sound that couldn’t be found prior to his initial Dead Dream. He saw each day of his life since that moment as if they were all recorded on pages in a book. The gentle breeze that blew began turning each and every page in a manner that was so orderly and perfectly paced that he believed the breeze had to be sent from a mystical place that was perfectly designed to turn pages in the book of memories that people keep. He smiled on the inside as he recognized the serendipity of it all. He felt deeply at peace as he came to the conclusion that he faced the scrutiny of the Acid Test and passed through to the other side. His Soul was purified and purged of its past iniquities and was born again anew to fill a role that was predestined for him ages ago in the vast ether of the unknown substance from which all life emanates.

Then out of nowhere, he remembered where the whole day began and immediately picked up his pace to return to the sessions that are preparing him for the task ahead with Dead and Company. He thought to himself, remarkably detached from any sense of guilt or worry, “I wonder where the fuck Katy is???” Since there was a deep internal knowing that she was experiencing whatever it was she was supposed to experience, he headed back to the rehearsals as a brand new creation. He understood the connection to his internal voice and the sense of complete surrender to its call. He understood that he didn’t need to know exactly what was up in order to know that, whatever was up was exactly what was supposed to be up. With a newly installed sense of psychedelic intuition and certainty he immediately returned to his inherent state of self confidence and strength. As he returned to the practice location, Katy was there blowing Bubbles and drinking Champagne. It didn’t bother John, even though Bubbles is one of the Crew members… He strapped on his guitar and found himself totally immersed in the sonic experience like never before. He was playing with his entire being and could feel the dramatic shifts in environmental energy in the various parts of each song. He was recognizing that the music made from the remaining members of The Grateful Dead actually goes deeper than the magma of the earth and further out than the most remote stars known to man. He has officially come on board for life’s greatest musically journey to a place reserved for those capable of breathing in the rarified air that circulates around the core of The Dead. His place was determined long ago from beyond the great unknown horizon of destiny to take his place amongst the legends assembled as Dead and Company. Those that have been harsh, you can all stop hating him now as he clearly was chosen by the guy in the sky to be part of all of this since the beginning of creation. I don’t know if any of this story is true but if it is, He has passed the Test with flying colors. While the rehearsal videos absolutely wreak of the aroma of mediocrity, they don’t include the most important ingredient, US. Don’t get me wrong, I believe by show time, this group of guys will be OUTSTANDING! I just wasn’t overwhelmed by the possibly premature previews. I’m certain by the time Albany comes around, the fragrance will definitely be one of unequalled excellence in spontaneous creation and development of fantastic flavors of sound. John is merely at the very beginning of one of the most fulfilling journeys this abundantly talented individual will ever take. We will take it alongside of him as brothers and sisters in the greatest musical family every assembled on planet earth, US!!!!

Countdown to kickoff y’all!!! See ya in a few!

Dead To The Core,

Dean Sottile (pronounced So Tilly)

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Jazz Is Dead rolled into South Orange, NJ last night bringing a ton of tasty Dead with them. There wasn’t much Jazz but there definitely was plenty of Dead. The 5 piece band ripped through unique renditions of some of our old favorites with the kind of inspired originality they’ve always been known for possessing. The South Orange Performing Arts Center provided an intimate environment that encouraged and enabled interchange between artists and audience throughout the evening. It was a tremendous night of music provided by top shelf musicians.

I remember seeing Jazz Is Dead several times throughout the years and with a couple of different musicians. Terry “T” Lavitz (Widespread Panic, Jefferson Starship, Dixie Dregs and many more) played Keys and Jimmy Herring played with them in the late 90s to early 2Ks along with Alphonso Johnson on bass. Alphonso plays like he has 8 fingers on each hand and makes it look easy as sleeping. He’s one cool character. They’ve always had drummers that were absolute beasts on the kit starting with Billy Cobham then moving to Jeff Sipe. The next as well as the current Rhythmic Octopus is Rod Morgenstein. That brother blasted through the night with intense authority and no shortage of shit getting endlessly blasted. He will never be accused of not being busy enough. They’ve been dormant since Lavitz’s unfortunate passing 5 years ago but they’re back now and better than ever!

Jeff Pevar came onboard after Jimmy and is an incredible guitarist. His command of the stage and his instrument is awe inspiring and his talents were on full display. From intricate finger picking to just plain slaying it, Jeff is someone you need to get a good dose of if you haven’t already. The originality of his interpretations along with the delivery of them had me smiling from ear to ear the entire night.

Chris Smith, a highly decorated player, took on half of the keyboard roles. He was animated and completely immersed in the music throughout the entire night.

The real treat of the evening is the addition of Tom Constanten on the other half of the keys. TC is the wise elder of the group and it was a joy to see him. Most notably, our favorite band’s keyboardist for less than a year and a half (November of ’68 to January of 70), Tom was engaged in the experience and savored the moments. When a musician solos, it’s an opportunity to look inside the depths of their core. When Tom wound up for his solos, this sincere and humble sound came through him. Not really colored it seems by much regret or bitterness. Just this pure albeit extremely laid back sound for this group of abundant note players. It’s probably the reason he didn’t work out very well with The Dead. While I know that none of us are perfect, Tom just didn’t have enough Sin in his Sound for a band like The Dead. One of my favorite qualities about Garcia was his uncanny ability to deeply feel everything he sung about regardless of who wrote the original. His sound resonated with the things of Christ just as well as they resonated with the qualities of a criminal. He had the perfect combination of just enough pain and more than enough pleasure to color everything he sang with unmatched passion. Either way, It was great to see TC on stage doing HIS thing.
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The show featured 2 sets of the most blazing and originally flavored Grateful Dead Music that can be found. Being mostly instrumental, other than Sugaree and New Speedway Boogie sung by Jeff, the room for exploration, improvisation and innovation was vast. One More Saturday Night closed the first set and was packed full of solos from the entire band and was a definite highlight for me. Estimated was probably the closest manifestation to The Dead’s original take on the tune and opened the second set as powerfully as the first set was closed. Songs like Sugar Mags and Attics were so originally crafted that they weren’t even easily identifiable initially. Once they found their strides, morsels of familiar sounds emanated from deep within their complex structures. Help On The Way-> Slipknot filled the room with pure sonic joy before painfully leaving Franklin’s out of the fun. I hate when bands do that… Deja Vu…

At times, I thought the band could more appropriately be called, Metal Is Dead. The hard driving jams often resembled Hard Rock much more than Jazz. An extremely straight laced woman sitting next to me commented to her husband as we walked out, “Oh dear… That wasn’t Jazz at all”. Apparently, they were some local folks drawn out of their house on a Thursday night by the keyword “Jazz” at a local theater. I don’t know what they’d call the hybrid form of jams that we all took in last night but I do know what I’d call them… OUTSTANDING!!! They were OUTSTANDING songs played by OUTSTANDING musicians in an extremely unique and OUTSTANDING way. Do yourself a favor and catch Jazz Is Dead at a theater near you. You’ll leave feeling refreshed, renewed and completely satisfied by the experience.

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Dead To The Core,

Dean Sottile (pronounced So Tilly)

#JazzIsDead