ZONE OUT with the ROLLING RIDER
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6/16/03
Manchester, TN
Bonnaroo Festival
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With only this morning and part of a plane ride to the West Coast to pen some lines, I feel obliged to report for those who braved the 12 hour lines, odorous mud pits, and the metropolis of tents that were Bonnaroo 2003. With Robert Hunter’s tour melting away like a tangerine sun into the horizon, the blue Pacific calls, and I race through a sky littered with diamonds, leaving a few fleeting words in my wake.

Surely the Band unveiled a Prelude to a most beautiful musical kiss in Tennessee, relying only on their flagship numbers, and most poignant songs, to begin the next chapter of a seemingly timeless tale. What better way to begin than TOUCH OF GREY, Bobby confidently at the helm, guiding the Vista Cruiser into uncharted territory. A JAM suggesting Scarlet became Mickey’s jubilant FIRE ON THE MOUNTAIN rap backed by Billy K’s dragonesque rhythms, majestic and chortling, and I had to pinch myself: after almost three thousand days, one finally marked the resurrection.

Don’t expect old hat, or a tired retrospective of the last forty years. As always, the Dead are approaching our sacred catalogue of songs like an ancient forest: treading respectfully, yet reveling in the magical nooks discovered upon some risky exploration. Joan Osbourne’s wailing lyrics on SUGAREE made me do a double take, sure, but I settled in like the rest who had to stand out in the pouring rain, and listened, realizing it may require a change that hasn’t come before.

An upbeat FRIEND OF THE DEVIL played tribute to the cohesiveness of these musicians, followed by a rollicking and rambunctious ALABAMA GETAWAY that delighted the partisan Southern crowd. To close the set, the collective harmonies and mind-bending blues of VIOLA LEE captured what the theme of the evening: Let’s Start from Day One. Two of the paternal pioneers of our scene, Jerry and Pigpen, surely were smiling down on this Father’s Day.

BOX OF RAIN may very well be the one number that has never ever skipped a beat. From the first flawless bars, no other tune can conjure up such raw emotion. The final song played by the Grateful Dead, we heeded its advice: “…feel your way, feel your way like the day before”. When the instrumental BLACK MUDDY RIVER followed, we knew it wasn’t mere coincidence. It was the last show in reverse. Or was I dreaming?

‘Please don’t be surprised if you find me dreaming too’, Phil explained gently. SUGAR MAGNOLIA>SUNSHINE DAYDREAM followed suit, and then UNBROKEN CHAIN sealed the deal: 7/9/95 after space Mirrored 6/16/03 before space. It’s hard to keep from smilin’ when you’re talkin’ bout’ the Dead. Listening for the secret, and searching for the sound, the Band reincarnated attempted to tame one of its most elusive tunes, certainly preparing for golden days to come.

SPACE preceded DRUMS, and suggesting Orpheus, the crowd became transfixed under the casting of a hypnotic spell: DARK STAR. With a pin drop audible even on here on this muddy Tennessee field, Joan then collapsed as if onto a feather pillow into the cryptic lyrics to CHINA DOLL: “If you can abide it, let the hurdy gurdy play…” Then, back into the familiar, elliptic melody, we succumbed to the second verse of DARK STAR: “Mirror shatters, in formless reflections of matter…”

SAINT STEPHEN, blistering with Jimmy’s guitar lead, contained the surprise of the evening, the smooth, timeworn bridge that was eventually veiled for so long. For posterity:

High green chilly winds and windy vines in loops around the twisted shafts of lavender, they're crawling to the sunUnderfoot the ground is patched with climbing arms of ivy wrapped around the manzanita, stark and shiny in the breeze

Wonder who will water all the children of the garden when they sigh about the barren lack of rain and droop so hungry 'neath the sky? William Tell has stretched his bow till it won't stretch no furthermore and/or it may require a change that hasn't come before.

The psychedelic arrow of THE ELEVEN split open the apple of my brain, leaving me reeling, only to be rejuvenated by the resounding, dancing crescendos of I KNOW YOU RIDER! “I wish I was a headlight on a northbound train”, climbing up the East Coast and then into the cool, Colorado rain at Red Rocks. After some selfless words by Phil encouraging us to become ORGAN DONORS, the soft ribbon of ATTICS OF MY LIFE tied up the historic night.

'I have spent my life
Seeking all that's still unsung
Bent my ear to hear the tune
And closed my eyes to see'

Unity is possible!
Rolling Rider

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