Tag Archives: Jeff Chimenti

20151031_204617

In a night that had more surprises than walking into a transvestite bar on ecstasy, Dead and Company turned up the heat in the city that never sleeps. One of the biggest surprises of the night began to unfold in my car on the way to the show. I’d like to thank Rob Stevens for hooking me up with tickets that came from the band’s allotment that ultimately lead to an epic evening. A series of texts between myself and my friends, Liz and Anthony, turned into questions about getting tickets for Sam Cutler and his bride. I was a little surprised that a guy like Sam would need help from anybody let alone an absolute nobody like me. It turned out that I was able to play a role in hooking up Sam Cutler with seats to the show. Not only that, I got to spend the entire show with the Cutlers. I had to ask him, “You can’t just make a call and get hooked the fuck up?” He just smiled and said, “I don’t have a number.” He told me it was the first concert in his life that he ever had a ticket for. Amazing that I could get it for him.

20151031_185541

The most shocking part of all of it was the appreciation that he had for the gesture. What a humble and incredible man that is truly Rock and Roll Royalty. Talking shop with Sam is a memory I’ll cherish forever. He was completely engaged in the experience in such an emotional way. He shed soulful tears on several occasions. His gratitude blew my mind. I never expected to be treated with company like that. It was as good as the show itself! Now on with it…

Walking into the Garden is a special event in and of itself. I never counted but I must have seen 30-40 Dead Shows there during Garcia’s time. It’s one of the world’s greatest stages and it brings out the very best in those who play it. The first thing I noticed was that it didn’t contain the massive and palpable Love that filled the air for the Fare Thee Well Shows. There was plenty of joy and we were all thrilled to be there but it was definitely a different vibe than this Summer’s Love Fest.

There’s a few things I’ve noticed since Summer that have carried on into Dead and Company. The most obvious is the extra measures that have been put between verses of songs. You expect the next lyric to arrive but it’s not there when your mind gets to it. I’m not sure what the thinking is behind that but it’s used in entirely too many songs. The lyric should be there when you expect it to be otherwise it moves you backwards mentally which prevents momentum from moving forward as it should. Perhaps the reason for it is the slower pace of many of the songs in the first place but to me it makes a slower pace seem even slower. Since I was a kid, I loved going to Old Timers Day at Yankee Stadium. It was great to see the legends out there having fun and basking in the glory. They don’t run the bases like they used to but seeing them makes everyone happy. That’s all I’m gonna say about that…

It seems the thing to do nowadays in Grateful Dead Land is play a relatively meaningless jam before you start a song. Both sets started that way. The intro jam to start the night turned into Jack Straw, a favorite opener for many of US. The jam in Jack Straw usually turns pretty wicked while he cuts his buddy down. It was a rather docile event this time around. I was waiting for the thunder but it never really arrived. My old buddies you’re moving much to slooooooo oooooo oooooooow.

Then the funky first notes of New Speedway dropped. That’s when the flowers started springing up for me. The sound was thick and full and had the kind of bounce that brought the entire vibe of the external surroundings into the arena. It was like opening the shades in your hotel room… Like the energies of the outside environment just came right in! The potential that exists for this band began to shine and it pretty much stayed that way for the rest of the night. John was outstanding and I think his style of playing as well as his level of talent is the best fit we’ve seen since Garcia passed. Before we get too far ahead of ourselves, MEMEs that say shit like, “I’m your Jerry now” are ridiculous and when I see them posted I have to believe whoever posted them is an asshole. John is the guitarist, nobody takes Garcia’s place. NOBODY comes close to Garcia. Not Stu, Steve, not John K, not Mayer, NOBODY. Sam Cutler completely agrees with me. That’s all I’m gonna say about that…

My favorite first set Garcia tune was always Althea. It’s no surprise that’s the lick that hooked Mayer because it’s one of the licks that instantly hooked me on November of 85 at the Meadowlands. Trey and Mayer both suffered the exact same fate at their attempt to sing Althea and many other Garcia tunes. Both of them were totally one note. There were no dynamics to their voices at all. While I’m aware that Trey’s vocal range is relatively narrow, I’m not as familiar with John’s. So far, it appears to be equally as narrow. While I felt as though John’s playing comes from deep inside his soul, it seems like his singing is coming from deep inside his head at the moment. While his playing has been packed with emotion, to me, his vocals are completely devoid of it thus far. Listen to Althea on 10/27/91. That should better explain everything. To be fair, while Garcia didn’t have the technique that Pavarotti did, even Pavarotti couldn’t sing like Garcia… Folks can play a little bit like him but NOBODY can sing like him. The jams throughout Althea were tremendous!

The greatest surprise of the night was being able to hear Jeff! Thanks Derek! The first time Jeff’s Hammond came through the sound system at proper volume, the whole place erupted. Everybody was totally thrilled to hear Jeff for the first time and it added undeniable power to the experience. When Jeff is loud, so are we! Dead Heads love our keyboardists much more than most. Now if Mickey would occasionally use some sticks instead of kitchen utensils and oversized Q-Tips, we’d hear the same type of power return to the experience. That’s not gonna happen so we’ll just be grateful we could hear Jeff.

The second set started with one of those jams that’s the equivalent of a batter lifting his nuts before he steps to the plate. When Truckin came out of it, the party was underway. Oteil was KILLIN it all night even though his bass doesn’t go as low as Phil’s. Play the lowest note he’s got and guess what? Phil’s goes lower… I watched him a lot last night and he was exceptional. The Wang Dang that went back into Truckin absolutely ROCKED! That jam that gets all wound up before it’s abundantly released at the end of Truckin has always been a favorite of mine. Weir was great on Estimated and the Eyes contained some of the best jams of the night. Another fine treat was getting Terrapin where I assumed drums would begin. The Terrapin was packed with everything we love about this band but the thing I missed most was Mickey climbing the percussive mountain of life when the tune changes lanes. You know what I mean? His runs across the skins really made that segment. If there’s a time to pick up the sticks and really beat the hell out of it, that’s definitely one of those moments.

One of the reasons I Love the drums segment is because it’s exactly the same since Garcia left us. It’s The one part of the show where his absence isn’t painfully obvious. Bill is having a super hot year. Everything he’s done has been incredible. With Mickey’s muffled approach to percussion now, it’s become glaringly clear that Kreutzmann is the engine behind the machine. Seeing those 2 do what they’ve been doing all these years is a gift I cherish.

When space began I started looking through Facebook to see what folks were posting. From a really brief space, there was this abrupt ascent into Chinacat. It catapulted all of us from our seats to our feets in an instant. “Not another China-> Rider” said Nobody ever. One of my favorite things about this band is the less predictable approach to song choices. Then the Crown Jewel of them all for me personally, The Dew immediately comes through with a unique aggression and conviction that was stellar. It was powerful musically and something interesting took place. When the first jam came around, John was absolutely shredding it. The same thing happened at Terrapin with Phil. If John had his way, that jam might still be going on right now. He was at his very best and perhaps should’ve saved some of it for the second jam that comes after the “Guess It Doesn’t Matter” verses. While he was trying like hell to keep this tremendous jam going, the band just absolutely stopped playing along with him totally shutting him down. After that, the second jam that typically brings the entire evening to full flight contained absolutely nothing. It was as if John was hesitant to do much of anything the second time around even with Bill and Mickey trying to pound the finish. It was one of those Roman Candles that ends with a muted fart. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway…

Everybody knows we’re gonna howl on Halloween and the Werewolves was the perfect way to end the evening. I can definitely say that this is a band you should go see. Our favorite musicians on big arena stages again with big arena sound and energy is a gift that has an unknown shelf life. To be part of all of this is a segment in my life I treasure. I can’t wait until the lights go down again this evening. I’m confident that with some repetition these guys are going to get MUCH better and do so REALLY fast. See y’all in a few!!! Love You Long Time!

Dead To The Core,

Dean Sottile (pronounced So Tilly)
@gd50th on Twitter
Grateful Dean on Facebook

FB_IMG_1445202368040

Faster than a few cups of tea through grandma’s urinary tract! More powerful than herbal viagra at a whorehouse! Able to leap a crack in the sidewalk in a single bound! It’s a bird! It’s a plane…. It’s HalloWeir! Promotional pictures posted last week showed Weir has been training at Krispy Kreme for the upcoming tour and has acquired a stylist to manage his hair after being accused of combing it regularly with an egg beater since Garcia’s passing. While considering costumes for Halloween, Weir attempted to put on a pair of his old shorts. Unfortunately, it looked like somebody shrink wrapped a bag of half eaten plums in denim. The Superman costume was the next thing he tried on but wearing a spandex suit in your 70s is like taking a highlighter pen and marking every lipoma on your body. He decided to scrap the idea altogether when he acknowledged that he’s Bob Weir and that’s more than enough…

With Halloween officially here, hippies in and around New York City, both obvious and undercover, are filled with the excitement and anticipation of a 12 year old boy getting ready to feel a nipple for his first time since breastfeeding. It seems like when shows are on the horizon, the smile from others wearing pieces representative of our tribe, however subtle, bring about a smile and a nod that’s just a little bit bigger than it would be otherwise. Whether it’s a small Stealie on a pin or full psychedelic attire, nothing brings some warmth into a city that’s known for its coldness like the small moments of tribal recognition on the streets of Manhattan.

Being around Madison Square Garden this week has been similar to holding the hand of a woman in labor. The knowns as well as the unknowns create a sense of unrivaled expectations tied to the impending journey we’re all in the process of participating in. Like being with a woman in labor, you know something completely heavy is going down. You know the feelings of joy, nervousness coupled with unmatched waves of Love and support. New life is on the way and there’s no turning back. The spectrum of emotions that course through the souls of those connected to life’s greatest musical transformation society is nearly as exhilarating. Yes my friends, These are The Days of our lives!

It seems like I came off of the oxytocin laden experiences we all had in Santa Clara and Chicago just in time to get loaded up on that stuff all over again. After essentially taking the entire year off from life and any hope of adulting, the past few months have given me just enough time to reestablish my life, in order to crash it into the proverbial tree of complete irresponsibility all over again. I’d like to take this time to thank the members of the Grateful Dead, not named Garcia(I still refuse to say Core 4), for reminding me what it’s like to absolutely not give a shit about anything other than dancing to live music in dark arenas. As I personally experience this process of rebirth, I look to the new baby that will emerge from the stage a few short hours from now. We’re all intimately acquainted with the parents that are responsible for this baby. We’ve followed them around collectively for varying lengths of time over the past 50 years. The baby is the music that is born through the collaboration of the parents whom are now also the elders in our community, along with Oteil, Jeff “Can Somebody Turn Me The Fuck Up” Chimenti and John “Simba” Mayer. What will become of this baby? Will Simba push too hard and shit the bed? Will John attempt to make things happen instead of letting the musical phenomena occur naturally? Will he realize that he’s a vessel through which the experience can be amplified if he’s able to surrender along with the guys around him that have been surrendering to that same Mystical and Musical Force for 50 years?

The Force is that magical organizing intelligence that has been orchestrating the phenomenal soundtrack of our lives, in ways that are difficult to explain, since the beginning. The invisible yet entirely substantial substance that has driven the Mother ship of Magical Moments throughout time and space and from coast to coast, restructuring our ideologies and internal compasses so that they always point to Terrapin. Terrapin is our cultural Due North point in life. The Absolute zero on the compass that guides us to the realization and manifestation of all that we’re called to do and see and experience in this life when we’re fully surrendered to it. While it’s challenging in the flesh to travel that course with zero deviation, we learned through the years that the answer was always found in separating one’s self from the demands of the flesh and moving in communion with something that was found far above the level of a grounded and earthly experience. For many of us, the process required a few alterations in our chemistry before we could walk through the quagmire of limitations installed by a society that relies on all that is known by way of education as opposed to receiving our required enlightenment from the source that far exceeds the limits of the educated mind. As we followed the compass that always points to Terrapin, we were given the tools that were impossible to acquire through endless layers of scholastic programming and woke up to the fact that WE had direct access to the infinite intelligence of creation and the keys to the kingdom were accessible to all of US. At least that’s what happened for me… While in my humanity I have deviated from the path at times, I have never forgotten the things I’ve learned along the way and my internal compass always points to Terrapin. I’ve stayed the course as have most of you, regardless of the external circumstances that would attempt to guide me elsewhere. I would imagine John Mayer has been experiencing a crash course in all of that as of late. Even with a fresh new wardrobe of expensive Grateful Dead attire, he will continue to be stripped of his external shell and ego as the unstoppable combination of Compass Correcting Force removes all interference to the expression of the Organizing Intelligence creating the baby that we’re preparing to experience over the next couple of months. If Albany is any indication of what we can expect, we’re in for a tremendous couple of nights in The Big apple. What a weekend it is in The World’s Greatest City! Dead and Company at MSG, Phil and Friends up the road, The World Series in Long Island and one of the world’s greatest Marathons tomorrow. Ain’t no place I’d rather be!

The only question that remains is, will Taper Rob stream Dead and Company and Phil Shows at the same time? I wouldn’t put it past him.
Countdown to Lift Off my friends… See ya at The Garden!

Dead To The Core,

Dean Sottile (pronounced So Tilly)