ZONE OUT with the ROLLING RIDER
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Jerry Garcia Tribute Show
featuring: Robert Hunter, Jazz is Dead, Vince Welnick,
David Nelson Band, Gregg's Eggs, Crispy Critters
Red Rocks Ampitheatre, CO
8-9-02
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Friday, 8.9.02

On the heels of the glorious Terrapin Station, a much less-ballyhooed event took place at one of the true Dead meccas, Red Rocks Amphitheatre, on August 9th, 2002, as a tribute to one Jerome John Garcia.

With no more than 100 or so of the faithful to witness it, Jerry's longtime pal
David Nelson performed the matinee under the white hot Colorado sun. His first time ever at Red Rocks, David wowed the audience early on with a crisp, bluegrass version of OH THE WIND AND RAIN. Then, a LOUIS COLLINS which grabbed your very heart and squeezed tightly, as David sang: "Angels laid him away...". The highlight of the acoustic portion had to be CUMBERLAND BLUES, which elicited goosebumps, and had the crowd dancing with delight as we wondered aloud,
"I don't know now, I just don't know, if I'm going Back Again!..." During David's jamming electric set, another Head made the comment that Psychedelic Music is defined as 'Playing with your Heart'. Certainly, David performed a very psychedelic tribute to his departed friend.

How wonderfully fitting that in between sets, Robert Hunter and Nelson rapped casually at stage right, amongst the awe-inspiring mahogany and pale red clay. Two of Jerry's oldest comrades, one can only imagine the stories, pulled from infinite spaces over veritable light years, that were recounted with smiles. All the while, the Red Rocks PA system played LET ME SING YOUR BLUES AWAY!

As a prelude to Hunter's set, Vince Welnick took the stage, sporting a 'Where the F&*K is Vince?' tee-shirt, to passionately perform solo tunes that included John Lennon's classic WATCHING THE WHEELS and the crowd-pleasing STANDING ON THE MOON.

The real treat of this sacred day had to be the rare outdoor performance of Robert Hunter, who ditched his patented leather vest in favor of a tank-top and Nelsonesque headband. Cordless, Hunter took the stage as BOX OF RAIN eerily preceded his presence. With a gospel feel, Robert implored: "What do you want me to do, to do for you, to see you through?". We could only let the music wash over our souls like a dry, sandy beach when the tides roll in. Yes, it was a long time to be gone and a short time to be there.

JACK STRAW followed, and the words "My old Buddy" never rang so true. His playing was deep, raw, and uninhibited. A true Bard. One of the last Sages who lets us visit his magical lair.

The most poignant song of the evening was perhaps THE WIND BLOWS HIGH, a brilliant number that seems to address Jerry, and the entire Dead history. "Beneath these wicked sheets of driving rain/I can hear the whistle of a train/Someone's gone away and Never coming back/The crew's already tearing up the track". Amen. The muses seemed to dance around his head, as he wandered to different reaches, only to have the wind blow him back, pleading, "Pick up your blue guitar and play a merciful tune!/Steal a final tear from a dead man's eye/Rock me while the Wind Blows Wide and High". If you've never heard THE WIND BLOWS HIGH, or read the lyrics, you're missing a key piece to the puzzle.

Hunter ushered in the nightfall with STELLA BLUE. Although it was early in the night, this song had to come. We cheered blissfully for Hunter as he dusted off the rusty strings one more time, but felt the pangs of sorrow as he reminded us, "Nothing comes for free; there's Nothing you can hold for very long".

NEW SPEEDWAY BOOGIE is a Colorado-favorite, and the crowd roared in affirmation, "We spent a little time on the mountain!". One way or another, one way or another. Hunter used this song as a take-off point, ready to weave seamlessly in and out of a medley that was, at once, a tribute to Jerry, and a musical memento of their relationship together.

Stuffed in a briefcase for twenty years, Jerry turned LIBERTY into a 'new song', when it was actually given to him by Hunter lifetimes before. One of the most conscious songs ever performed, we savored the lyric like never before: "Dipped my bucket in the clear blue sky/Looked in the bottom and what did I see/The whole damn World looking back at me". There's a little brain food, for you...soul candy if you will. And, Hunter put a different enunciation on a line, singing, "Chop it down, and you can't STOP me...you can't STOP me".

Letting the muse guide his efforts, Liberty became LOOSE LUCY, truly one of the grate show pulls in history. Crowd participation at an all-time high, we echoed "Yeah...Yeah", and THANK YOU (for a real good time). This was not a night to think about less and less, but to REMEMBER, and hold sacred, the love we bring.

And then, LADY WITH A FAN. Rocking the crowd into a dream, Hunter launched into the archetypal model which is the Grateful Dead, and all it's trials, tribulations; loves, heartbreaks; dreams coming true. Invoking the muse like a monk invokes Buddha before prayer, Hunter asked, "Let my inspiration flow, in token rhymes, suggesting rhythm". All was one, and yes, like as Hunter's commented in his elegy on Jer's 'particular' nature, each lyric hit home in a Thousand Ways.

A soldier from the looks of him, who came through many fights...the storyteller makes no choice, soon you will not hear his voice. Then, with utter glory, a complete rang of emotions forging electrically into one thought, TERRAPIN STATION blossomed like a majestic rose right before our eyes. You could see diamonds in the air, and felt skeletons dancing all around.

Hunter then fleshed out the story of the writing of TERRAPIN. He was watching through his window, and hearing, a tremendous Lighting Storm in San Francisco. The words came out as fast as the pen could pull. Then the call from Jerry. "I'm driving through the city to see you. I have to play you these changes I just came up with". Yes we all know from ancient lore that Hunter's words and Jerry's music fit by magic, by serendipity, BUT, how many of you knew it was about THE SAME STORM IN SAN FRANCISCO?!? "Now THAT's collaboration", Hunter commented.

A new tune followed, THE SONG REMAINS, as Hunter sang "chalk it up to fate". He loves singing this song, and he told us, unequivocally, that the song remains "like sunshine in the wake of a long hard rain". One line in this song really struck me, though. "Don't ask the meaning/It only means what it means to you".

Continuing a truly mellifluous set, Hunter did his classic suite, DIRE WOLF>PEGGY O. The song, the stories, and the characters, wove in and out of each other endlessly, arriving in Terrapin, and all over the mythological map that is Robert Hunter's Poetry.

Tireless, Hunter conjured up an extended RUBIN AND CHERISE that again, pulled at our heartstrings. I thought of Jerry playing that timeless tune as a finale at the old acoustic shows in the 80s, and the beautiful breakouts in 1991. The strings played all alone, and Hunter reminded us, "The course of Love must follow Blind".

LAZY RIVER ROAD was poignant and soulful, and again, Hunter seemed to draw from divine inspiration in arriving at this tune. Letting the muse guide him through every choice of a song, every note, makes his performances so fresh, and powerful, much like the Grateful Dead of old. "Thread the needle right through the eye/Thread that point so true...", were the words that seemed to bleed out, and you could literally taste the salt of the sweat and tears that constructed them.

The old master, feeling the urgency of the moment, let the strings guide him into WHARF RAT, the elliptic melody that simply was this night, this moment. The 5 words "My name is August West", so apropos, would've melted even a heart of stone, as they echoed around the behemoth red slabs and fluttered into the universe. Impassioned as I'd ever seen him, he admitted, "I know that the life I'm livin's no good/I'll get a new start/Live the life I should". For that millisecond, we all got up and flew away, in unison, like songbirds of pain and paradise, one more sacred time.

Like he was just warming up, the old master ripped into a classic rendition of SCARLET BEGONIAS that quite simply rocked our proverbial worlds. Beads of sweat rolling down like wax in the summer heat, we relished every shake our bones, having one of those collective flashes we'd been there before. Like Kesey said of Jerry, the sacramental quality came not from the notes he played, but the ones he DIDN'T play. That's exactly how Hunter played this song, and this show. And it was timeless. Golden.

The only was I can describe RIPPLE is that Hunter didn't sing the words, really. He spoke them. Preached them like the scripture that they are, and not from a pulpit, either. He embraced them, like a farmer does the soil, or fisherman does the sea. As all Hunter's words are the touchstones of our very lives, the words of Ripple create a hymn that is the very anthem of our hearts. "Would you hear my voice, come through the music? Would you hold it near as it were your own?" Yes, we replied, always.

Robert Hunter poured out his very heart for us on August 9, 2002, which is precisely what he has done for the past 40 years or so. Since the days of he, and Nelson, and Jerry playing hungrily in coffee shops. And his relationship with Garcia, since he had the military-issue cans of pineapple, and Garcia had the glove compartment full of little spoons, has been one of sharing that one can't really understand, except to say that you can feel it deep in yer' bones. "We'll know that you live inside of us", Hunter wrote seven years prior, "with love that never parts. Our Good Ol' Jack of Diamonds become the King of Hearts". Surely we felt that love oh so strongly on this night. It filled up Hunter and spilled out to us, and we gave it right back, along with the thoughts of every Deadhead.. And it was enough to make the moon smile. The clouds took the opportunity to dance gently. The wind chimed in as well, and the stars shone extra brightly in approval.

The song was still Rippling outward, but Hunter, like a wind swept shadow, left as he had came. The stage was darkened and empty, but again, there was a lesson there. To keep making music. To sow with love. To value this community we have, and take this thing into eternity. Let there be songs, to fill the air. Thanks to Robert Hunter, and to the whole Dead Community.

...statements just seem vain at last...

- Rolling Rider
8/02

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read PNC 7.12.02 Rider

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