Tag Archives: Jerry Garcia

CrazyFingers

We’re at the end of this hellacious Victim jam…. I probably shouldn’t have taken that second palm sized puddle at the end of the first set… I think I was trying to show off… Bad idea… Victim has creeped the living shit out of me and I’ve seen at least three people, obviously feeling just like me, walk away briskly with that too high and terrorized face… Like they just saw a ghost or somethin’… That same demon was trying to get me to leave this place too… I wonder if people that aren’t junkies are equally as freaked out by this tune… If the Boogey Man owned a Country, Victim would be the National Anthem… It’s like the Chariots of Fire for early freaked out runs towards the exits… I’m just glad it’s ending and I was able to stay put… For now at least… The introductory notes of Crazy Fingers begin and they sound to me like the four fingered Hand of Hope is winding the crank of a gigantic Music Box to full tension… The pressure builds and builds and builds and once it’s released this incredibly slow moving piece seems to unwind at a snail’s pace against the incredible tension that was wound into it’s initial ascent… Crazy Fingers was definitely not one of my top choices for the moment but tonight it feels like an entirely new experience… Tonight it feels like a Life Raft that was sent to me from Garcia… It feels as though I’m looking through a psychedelic high school yearbook… Incredible imagery throughout with Deep and Redeeming quotes that seem to infuse New Life into every segment of the experience… The Victim left me in this state of mental and spiritual depravity and despair as I self analyzed my current condition… Victim is like a magnifying glass that enables you to look through the crowd and spot every junkie quickly and easily… Crazy Fingers is completely restoring the small idea deep within me that I may get out of this mess one day… There is some Hope… Initially the hope is a bit muted…. Life May Be Sweeeeeter for this I don’t know… Seeeeeeeeee how it feels in the end… In my state of absolute LSD induced psychosis I realize that if they were ever gonna make a documentary film on the mating rituals of a slug, Crazy Fingers could by all means be the intercourse music… I begin to discover the absolute beauty of it all in an instant… While I struggle to make sense of the lyrics I look to Garcia’s face and he’s singing it as a Father would sing a lullaby to a newborn baby girl… The depth of his expression and apparent emotion tell me that I should be looking far deeper into it all… Billy is in deep meditation… Wouldn’t be surprised if he got some sleep during this one… Mickey has had the evil face on since Victim and seems as if he may be somewhat responsible for pushing the whole thing just fast enough that it doesn’t stop completely… It constantly seems like the rest of the band won’t make it to the beat yet regardless of how far they lag back they seem able to take the last step or two to the beat as rapidly as is required to arrive on time… I’m beginning to appreciate this tune like I never have before… As Jerry solos it’s as if his notes run out ahead of the band before finding a place to rest as the procession catches up… It’s a musical game of tag and I don’t think I ever heard it that way until this very moment… As Garcia goes reaching for The Gold Ring…. And he tries… Phil begins to absolutely pummel my mind with an amazing series of notes that seem to be winding up the Music Box all over again… The tension is ratcheted up to full capacity… The space between the notes seem to say as much as the notes themselves… I can clearly see the various forms of Something New just waiting… To be born… There is a quality to the jam that causes me to feel as though the things of life that have been awaiting me are in the birth canal of the universe and currently struggling through a long and challenging labor… I’m starting to feel like the second puddle was definitely the right thing to do… The hope goes from a once muted thought to a confident proclamation…. Feeeeeeeeeeels like it might be alright!!!

May Lady Lullaby sing plainly for you soft, strong, sweet and true…

Dean Sottile (pronounced So Tilly)

I’m really looking forward to getting to Chicago! Frank Zappa gets almost as much play at my house as The Dead so a band I’m definitely going to see while I’m there is Roister! Not only do they have one of the best Show Posters I’ve seen for Chicago but they have some serious talent including two veterans of Zappa’s touring band, guitarist/vocalist Ray White and bassist Tom Fowler, Ike Willis not to mention Brian “Honky Fubu” Swizlo on keys! There’s a host of other musicians that will be showing up from Zappa’s bands and I’ll meet you there for sure!!! Show starts at 10 but they’ll be playing until the wee morning hours I believe. Tickets are a steal at $20 and it’s at The Abbey Pub.

Roister

GarciaWolf

Ok, we’re done with causes, cases, chaos and controversy here! We turn the page as of now.

Here’s a little something different. It’s a poem I wrote during Jerry Week last year. I still think of something Garcia related on a daily basis, without fail. I’m certain many of you do the same… Here it is.

Been looking for The Silver Lining but this one seems all Grey
Nothing’s been the same since the night you went away
The Story Teller makes no choice, that’s what you always said
It’s funny that we all found life amongst the Grateful Dead
The wrinkled eyes of Heaven know this day as if by heart
The tears through years of mourning that have torn our world apart
You’re the one that brought the treasure and grabbed magic from the air
Everyone craved The Golden Eggs but The Goose that left them there
The blistered hands of time still turn the crank that runs The Wheel
The cards all come back empty every time we get The Deal
Mercy wrote a letter, sent to Death by Standard Mail
The message came back, “Sorry but No Mercy is for Sale”
My face is callused from the salted water my Eyes have shed
Trying to recapture the moments from the memories in my head
I can’t believe 23 have passed since your Graduation Day
Still broken vans with broken plans like dogs that went astray
Another Summer passes by another Winter Near
And still remains the lullaby our ears all long to hear
Your sound is irreplaceable yet we try to turn the page
Where softly grows the silent fire that becomes full grown rage
Days are still found dazing in The Days that Lie Between
And thoughts churn in our souls yet we can’t figure what they mean
To hear a few more notes from you would cure this inward drought
In the spaces in between each one We figured the whole thing out
My thoughts and days are like the style of playing you were usin’
When moments of intense clarity seem to arise from complete confusion
In my head I see your frame, your chin pinned to your chest
Like you’re looking into your own heart and pulling out what’s best
I vividly hear the music build like champagne when you shake it
You took your time getting to the Mic we all wondered if you’d make it
But just as Springtime turns to Heat and Heat then turns to Cold
The only place we find Silver now is where there once was gold
With thoughts of you that never die and no replacement near
We celebrate the life you gave to all of us every year
Your Soulful Sound to Terrapin to Mission in The Rain
We’ll cherish what you gave to us until we meet again…

Dead To The Core,
Dean Sottile (pronounced So Tilly)