The Grateful Dead
Fillmore West ~ San Francisco, CA
Feb. 27 - March 2, 1969 

Note: These reviews were done prior to the release of the Fillmore West 1969 released in Nov. 2005.
The Complete Recordings - Sold Out
Compilation

Grateful Dead Personnel
Tom Constanten: Keyboards
Jerry Garcia: Lead Guitar, Vocals
Mickey Hart: Drums
Bill Kreutzmann: Drums
Phil Lesh: Bass, Vocals
Ron "Pigpen" McKernan: Keyboards, Vocals
Bob Weir: Rhythm Guitar, Vocals

Fillmore West - 2/27/1969
Reviews - 2/28 | 3/1 | 3/2

Disc One - Set 1

1 Good Morning Little Schoolgirl
2 Doin' That Rag
3 That's It For The Other One
Cryptical Envelopment
The Other One
Cryptical Envelopment

Disc Two - Set 2

1 Dupree's Diamond Blues>
2 Mountains Of The Moon>
3 Dark Star>
4 St. Stephen>
5 The Eleven>
6 Turn On Your Lovelight
7 Cosmic Charlie

Technical notes: The circulating soundboard of 2-27-69 has a lot happening to its sound in the first minute. First, it starts out with about thirteen seconds of horribly degraded AUD which (besides providing us with Bill Graham's intro) conveys a real sense of how the room actually sounded to the audience. When we switch to the soundboard feed, the mix is clean but claustrophobic, with little sense of the higher frequencies and no sense of room at all. Gradually, the mix improve: cymbals become audible, Pig's harmonica comes up to the front, and the sound takes on some sense of breathability. All this goes by fairly fast, and we can expect substantial improvement in the official release. Which is very good news, because from here on out we've got a fine show on our hands. 

"Schoolgirl" flexes substantial muscle for what is, after all, only the
opening number: Pigpen is comfortably in charge, the band is responsive, and we find them quite capable of moving & breathing as a unit. Jerry takes his vocal with "Doin' That Rag", which takes a similarly easy turn at the freeweights; a nice balance of energy & arrangement, and the harmonies aren't bad. A good performance.

Some stage banter follows which gives us some hint as to how things looked from the stage ("truly weird" is Jerry's take), and the band takes flight on the roller-coaster suite of movements sometimes called "That's It For the Other One". Here they alternate the screwdriver with the sledgehammer, making psychic construction that can only be felt, not seen. Slabs of sound are issued as if the band members are dogpiling on top of each other,
then easing off as they back out to examine the space they had just been. Sometimes they reach a moment of such quiet delicacy that it seems as if hardly anyone is really playing -- as if to remind us that atoms are mostly space -- then they slam together like nuclear fusion. Apparently things were "truly weird" on stage, though; after a few apart-then-together surges, Jerry announces the need for a break, promising a longer set to follow. Bobby gives us some idea of just *how weird* things might be with a comment of his own: that they would "bring out the monkey" in the next set.

This they arguably do: set two finds them more brightly mixed, and begins with an assertively acoustic "Dupree's Diamond Blues"; imagine, if you will, the clarity & presence of the 1980 acoustic sets, but with a younger, attentive Jerry at the mike. Oh yeah, it's good -- his voice proves supple & emotive, the guitars are clear enough to almost see, and Phil weaves in & out of the drummers with a confident chunkabump. 

Where "Dupree" captures the good-time party mood, "Mountains of the Moon" reminds us of the more baroque flavors enjoyed by the Haight-Ashbury crowd: slightly studious, dynamically static, the music at some emotional distance except for Garcia's longing vocal. A nice mood piece, tailed by some somber
instrumental exploration. And this, of course, is where you'll want to have the stereo up loud, as Jerry relinquishes the musical progress to Phil & Bobby, dumping his acoustic guitar to fetch the electric. A few cymbal touches (Mickey?), the electric guitars comfortably in place; a few glances: are we ready? We are. All right then. And it's "Dark Star". 

"Dark Star". These are not mere words that simply entitle a song; many, many of us have spent hours in the grip of a side of vinyl called "Dark Star" -- and many more have begun their transition to Dead appreciation with a five-inch plastic disc that began with "Dark Star". In reality, there are as many ways of experiencing "Dark Star" as there are listeners, and there are dozens and dozens of performances to experience. But in our minds, this "Dark Star" is the first, defining performance for so many of us, simply because it was chosen to lead off LIVE DEAD -- we know its ebbs
& tides; we know its flow. If words could say something more about it than it says itself, it wouldn't be the iconic performance that it is. The pleasure here, of course, is hearing it in context -- the organic outgrowth of this evening's musical events; the journey is redefined in terms of how it was set out.

But it's not just that: as much as we might think we know this journey, there is still so much to experience: Drifting into the heart of darkness, we pass many strange and interesting sights in this movie for the ears; some large, some small, some vaguely disturbed, provoking feelings almost definable but not wholly realized. After exploring corner after corner, the band surges to a triumphant conclusion, though nothing is actually concluded. As Garcia later suggested in his Rolling Stone interview, it's a signpost to other possibilities, not a place in itself.

Time to disembark to the equally familiar "Saint Stephen"; the band has now been performing continuously for half an hour, and the set is not yet half over. "One man gathers what another man spills" Jerry sings, and all pandemonium breaks out. A neophyte in attendance might well have wondered by this point how long they could keep this up, but "keeping it up" is something the band had been working on for a long time. "High green chilly winds," they sing, and the band takes flight again; the visceral taking over again from the intellectual. Another chance to take breath as they
search the hedgerow for the door into "The Eleven"; once found they pour through like barbarian invaders. -- But these invaders came to dance :-)

It's all lost now, really; there's a beat, but who really remembers where the 'one' is -- did it matter? The instruments swirl out notes with urgent joy: guitars, bass, drums, organ -- not that it matters. There isn't a melody, or even a need for one, and you may well have lost some clothes by this time (certainly your shoes). Oh wait: they bring it down for a bit of singing -- not that the words really matter, either. Hmmm; it would be almost inappropriate if they did.

By now, we're no longer in the familiar clutches of the LIVE DEAD material, but that doesn't matter either: the band spirals up, soars, glides back down; sometimes touching similar ground before taking off again, sometimes zooming off in another direction. Heated to a boil, some water jumps over the lip of the cauldron, and seven frantic cooks stir in new ingredients. Bass drums rap like hammers. Guitars chatter & wail. Organ chirps in with exclamatory phrases. But what's that in the bass? I think Phil has a suggestion of his own .... Obviously they're listening: one by one, they drop out, venting it down, softly landing on the green green grass of home ... then immediately blasting off again with "Turn On Your Lovelight".

Pigpen is right there, on the ready: this show began with him, and it's for darn sure going to end that way too. Soulful, urgent, passionate, with the rest of the boys right on cue behind him. What, did you think this was some *hippie* band? ;-) No way Jose -- these guys are R&B all the way, and Pig's going to prove it: "Now, wait a minute ..." sermonizes Pastor Pig, and a sharp rim shot drops the band to half-volume in an instant. You DO want to
hear about Pig's "rider", don't you? Sure you do; you just didn't know it. Of course, they don't want to BORE anyone, so they alternate his raps with R&B blasts that were probably heard all the way to Oakland (if not Lodi), just to make sure we're paying attention. Once they're sure we are, Pig gives his usual admonishments to the 'lonesome' men in the audience ("Now,
ain't this a bitch?" he muses) before the band turns back to the song proper. I wonder how they know when they've given him enough rope, and when to bring it in? At any rate, they do, and they do it up fine, sending us up in ecstatic fashion to finish out the set. Billy showcases his big-band explosiveness, Jerry signals the siren riff, Pig grunts his last, and it's finally all over.

Well, almost; Bobby introduces the encore as a "sentimental number" and "the ladies' choice", and they send 'em home with a somewhat ragged "Cosmic Charlie"; the harmonies are more accurate than not, but not overly so. Still, the energy is confident, and there were three more nights to follow ....

Fillmore West - 2/28/69
Reviews 2/27 | 3/1 | 3/2

Disc One - Set 1

1 Morning Dew
2 Good Morning Little Schoolgirl
3 Doin' That Rag
4 I'm A King Bee
5 Turn On Your Lovelight

Disc Two - Set 2

1 That's It For The Other One
Cryptical Envelopment
The Other One
Cryptical Envelopment
2 Dark Star>
3 St. Stephen>
4 The Eleven>
5 Death Don't Have No Mercy

Disc Three - Set 2 cont.

1 Alligator>
2 Drums>
3 Jam>
4 Caution (Do Not Stop On Tracks)>
5 Feedback>
6 We Bid You Goodnight

I hope Dick Latvala had chance to chuckle at his increasing pseudo-deification, following the advent of the DICK'S PICKS series -- being a favorite of his became one more qualification that could be added onto a show, whether it be a favorite "Dark Star" from November 1972 or a PITB from May 1993. So, without further ado, here it is: 2-28-69 bears the rumored distinction of being the late Dick Latvala's most favorite complete show. How d'you like them apples? ;-)

Or perhaps oranges are a better metaphor: this show comes in segments. First off, we get "Morning Dew", which starts out rather rough but improves a bit on the end jam. The legs don't really kick in 'til the next song, as "Schoolgirl" seems more what they're in the mood to do: the surges & ebbs are slight but auspicious. Pigpen even imitates Janis' style a couple times in the latter half of the song. A true band effort -- I hope they chose this for the 3-disc Rhino release!

"Doin' That Rag" is merely fine, but "King Bee" finds them returning to "Schoolgirl" territory with better results. Evidently the muse is on Pigpen songs for this set, so they go further -- "Lovelight" -- and this proves a shrewd guess; the instruments pirouette and dash about with all the right dynamic fervor. Around ten minutes in, there's an audience splice in the circulating copy (perhaps why this version wasn't used on LIVE DEAD?). It will be interesting to hear how they patch this on the official release. Phil is particularly active, making this a real treat to hear. Pig gives us the usual lowdown on his rider -- no less effective for being familiar -- and the band takes it back up with Bobby's soul-shouting & Jerry's driving guitar. So ends the first set.

Set two divides neatly into two segments, conveniently taking a disc each. After being introduced as 'The last of the gay desperadoes', they jump straight into the "Other One" suite, with Jerry's tremulous vocals carrying us through the "Cryptical" section. No real time spent on the drum segue; the band blasts right into the jam. Now, here is a chunk of Grateful Dead they never lost -- at this point, it could be almost any year from their career -- and they attack it here with typical energy. Four minutes later, they dip down long enough for Bob to sing the first verse, and they're off again for a few more minutes: really, no more time than they spent in the 90s. The difference here, of course, is the "Cryptical" reprise; which goes at a rather fast pace, and therefore doesn't drop as much as Jerry would likely have preferred. No matter; Jerry sings "you know he had to die" a few times, and they explore the pent-up energy that wouldn't die. Evidently this is what they needed to do, because this *does* lead to near pin-drop levels. After another surge, Phil decides it's time for "Dark Star".

Like the night before, they sail into the "Dark Star" waters in full confidence. Unlike the night before, Jerry seems often the leader in the jams -- by no means a bad thing; especially since Billy is so sympathetic to almost every note. Despite being such a near cousin, the jams develop differently -- like listening to an alternate take. Which, of course, it is!

"St Stephen" isn't quite so explosive as the night before, but a little tighter as a result. And we needn't worry about energy -- after this, it's straight up through "The Eleven", a fine, long dance of musical joy. Here we might find reason why Mr. Latvala might have enjoyed this show over all others -- the subtlety, the dynamics, the push & pull of Group Mind improv; not the longest nor most powerful, but ever-inter-changing, provoking, stimulating. In a fine conclusion to this segment, "Death Don't Have No Mercy" gives Jerry opportunity for an especially expressive guitar solo: passionate, mournful, crying, sometimes all at once.

"OK," says Jerry to the appreciative applause that follows. "We gotta think of something to do." Thus begins the 40-minute third segment, with grand understatement -- they soon start up "Alligator > Caution", returning Pigpen to the prominence he had in the first set. Harmonies are typically rough, but this doesn't ruin the jubilant mood. Four minutes of percussive battle follow -- at one point, it sounds like they're trying to beat their drums right off the stage. Pigpen seems to be egging them on, and there's a cool, off-mike vocal break just before the band comes bursting back in. It's just the right kind of thing to do, too: pure rhythmic energy, feeding off the drum attack. Similarly, the jam that follows is not so much about form or harmony but raw energy: theme after theme explores variations on propulsion, movement; metaphorically, we might say the theme is Life itself. - Not as an individual life, with a birth & death, but the drama of Life as a force of Nature: movement, desire, drive & struggle.

Too much? All right; let each listener choose his own "inner ear" and "inner eye" to produce the mental movie for which this jam is the soundtrack. Enjoy, as the fur flies one way, then another, then several ways at once. Notice Bobby neatly throw in a "Not Fade Away" flourish, without distracting from the jam; feel the gut-bomb of Phil weave in & out of Jerry's fine lines. Thrill to the gurgle & throb of Bill & Mickey's motorcycle pulse. Spin, if you want -- that ultimate expression of motion without travel; staying still while moving.

Like being astride a motorcycle for the first time, you may not fully understand the motor idling between your legs, but there's no question that it's working -- and, at a throttle's touch, ready to go. You can just sit there & listen, Jack, if that's your bag; I ain't got nothin' to say about it if you do. But if you really want to *know*, to experience what it's all about, you got to move, you see what I'm saying? So why not give it a try? Whenever you're ready. Oh, yeah, at times it's a bit scary, but if you keep your eyes on the road, and listen with your body, you should do fine.

Go on; I know you want to. Don't worry; it's got plenty of gas. Whichever way you want to go. Yeah, I knew you'd like it. Now go get one of your own, OK?

Oh yeah, there's psychodrama: the boys conclude "Caution" with the kinds of sound that justify that title, except by this point we call it "Feedback". They've spent all night getting here, and they're not about to rush it now. Oh, the horrors! the intensity! Somebody arc-welds a guitar, somebody else slams a drum like a bomb going off. Gentleness finally comes, all clarity and sharpness; sometimes, it's like that until the peace returns. And it does.

"Lay down, my dear brother ..."

The Last of the Gay Desperadoes fight one last battle with the PA system; it's hard to say who wins. "Good night from all the electronic mice", says Jerry; I guess the winners are us :-)

Fillmore West -3/01/69

Disc One - Set 1

1 That's It For The Other One>
Cryptical Envelopment
The Other One
Cryptical Envelopment
2 New Potato Caboose>
3 Doin' That Rag>
4 Cosmic Charlie

Disc Two - Set 2

1 Dupree's Diamond Blues>
2 Mountains Of The Moon
3 Dark Star>
4 St. Stephen>
5 The Eleven>
6 Turn On Your Lovelight
7 Hey Jude

Why should this be my favorite of this run? Maybe it's because it was the first I heard; maybe it's because it's so compact. Maybe it's the appearances of "New Potato Caboose" and "Cosmic Charlie" in the first set, and the hilarious encore. Maybe it's the near-continuous playing in each set.

Whatever it is probably includes all these reasons -- as if they were needed; 3/01/69 has an irresistible flow to it that sweeps away analysis. The whole show just sounds so EASY, like they could whip out performances like this every night without even trying. It just has such a JOY to it; a broad hint that unspeakable happiness could be yours, as it was obviously already theirs -- it's just right around the corner, c'mon! And that's just the first set!

Neither set is really very long, but neither is there any wastage; when The Great High Hope take the stage for the second set, they never stop playing. Like the first set, it's continuous performance for the entire set. Also like the first set, there are no dull moments, no clunkers; you really can't excerpt this show -- it's all one big piece. Of course, it IS excerpted for the 3-disc compilation, but that just highlights the downside of compilations; if you want the whole experience -- from first breath to last -- you have to hear it unshorn.

And therein seems to rest the heart of this show: it works as a single show, a complete show, a full show. There's the jamming, and there are the acoustic numbers. There are rave-ups but also philosophical inquiries. There's even a bit of silliness in the encore, but silliness is also valid. Mistakes occur too -- TC can't seem to get in the groove on "Mountains of the Moon", as he plays rather too quickly on the verses, getting ahead of Jerry's singing (this may account for its subsequent absence from the roster), but this doesn't significantly affect the performance. If anything, it just seems to convince the rest of the band of the need to get on to "Dark Star" , which isn't likely to dismay any listeners.

And how is the "Dark Star", you ask? I'm glad you did. Naturally, it's not far from our dearly familiar 2/27 rendition; the intro is cleanly stated, the interplay is delightful and interactive. As usual, I'm reminded of sea voyages and adventure -- hey, why not? What's nice here is the overall balance among the performers; "Dark Star" at it's best rests at a central nexus, the hub around which the various performers revolve, equidistant but completely connected. Like 2/27, gentleness dominates (is that an oxymoron?); both are full of the sense of 'being', existing, living. TC especially seems most comfortable here, and the band benefits greatly from his contributions. Mickey makes wonderful use of the metals behind the triple-headed hydra of Phil Jerry and TC, while Bob and Billy fill in various spaces that nobody else thinks to address.

By "St Stephen", the element of fun is so palpable that Bobby feels free to interject commentary: "One man gathers what another man spills ..." go the lyrics, and Bobby shouts out "Except in California!" By "Lovelight", anyone left wondering what the fuss is all about should probably invest in some John Denver albums. For those that remain, we get the singular experience of hearing the band FIGURE OUT how to play an encore of "Hey Jude", which comes off much better than they deserve -- mostly thanks to Pigpen, but especially thanks to Phil.

If I don't have a lot to say about this night, it's because fun can't really be explained; either you're up for it or you aren't. When you are, this is a good place to go :-)

Fillmore West - 3/2/69
Reviews 2/27 | 2/28 | 3/1 

Disc One - Set 1

1 Dark Star>
2 St. Stephen>
3 The Eleven>
4 Turn On Your Lovelight

Disc Two - Set 2

1 Doin' That Rag>
2 That's It For The Other One>
Cryptical Envelopment
The Other One
Cryptical Envelopment
3 Death Don't Have No Mercy
4 Morning Dew

Disc Three - Set 2 cont.

1 Alligator>
2 Drums>
3 Jam>
4 Caution (Do Not Stop On Tracks)>
5 Feedback>
6 We Bid You Goodnight

March 2, 1969, finds us starting out in usual jocular fashion; Bill Graham seems unavailable, because they launch into "Dark Star" without any introduction (silly or otherwise).

And a fairly brisk "Star" it is -- evidently the boys are feelin' fine --setting out on a 20-minute voyage more typical of a second set than a first. Well then! By the time the second verse closes the song, I can't recall having heard a first -- it seems they've spent hours exploring variations on their most famous mood piece. In fact, this set is only one hour in clockable time, divided into a mere four songs, but what of that? I doubt any clock ever cared for one performance over another-- dead to distinctions of human experience.

The Dead, on the other hand, are a distinctly human experience, and we humans travel through time at different speeds at different times; Einstein's clock on the train versus the unchanging clock at the station. Some hours last longer than others. Like all joyous hours, this one lasts somewhere between a mere instant and all time, depending on how involved the listener is. Do you really want to pay attention to the interchange & dance of instruments? If you do, there is much to delight your ear & mind.
Do you prefer to let the music pass through & around, a swirl of energized particles dancing in your brain in emotional ecstasy? This, too you may have: the music ebbing & flowing in streams & eddies, limpid pools and the occasional rapids.

Such are the delights of this fabulous run: like a canoe trip through the Grand Canyon's Colorado River. Similarly, it's all the more wonderful for being repeatable without exactly being repeatable. I mean, you can take this trip any number of times, and it won't be exactly the same: the river changes, and so do our human expectations. We can only navigate, not determine, our voyage; the water's course provides too much impetus to
fight. If you don't want to go with it, you can only get out, not fight -- and even then, you can only get out as the current allows. The river always wins. But, if we wish, we can move along with it, and in so doing *become* a riverly component.

In this case, the stream begins a trickle of "Dark Star", gains power in "St Stephen", shoots the narrows of "The Eleven" with accelerating speed, and moves forcefully through the canyons of "Lovelight" [thanks to local guide Pigpen] without ever losing momentum or flipping the canoe. Pig isn't exactly the most conventional of river guides; I picture him standing at the prow, facing back at us, one foot up on the gunwale, elbow on one knee
-- oblivious to the precarious nature of his perch, he occasionally leans to one side or another but never loses his balance. Well, of course -- he doesn't actually need to pay attention to the course of this canoe -- he *is* the river, he *is* the current. In short, he *is* the song, and the band just makes it auditory for the rest of us.

-- And boy-do-they-ever: only 57 minutes later, you might say they had already played all night long, but it's only been the first set!

Second set: after a cursory intro, they immediately shoot into the void with the "Other One" suite -- only what we expect, after all. And here is where 3/02 makes a nice companion to 3/01: "Dark Star" and "The Other One" switch sets from one night to the next, and in both cases the jam played in the second set comes off stronger. -- not that you'd want to skip the first set, as is obvious from the comments above; but the benefits of being warmed up can't be denied. The surges are stronger, the interaction more
complex, the ideas more daring; 4o minutes later, it's almost startling to realize they've segued into "Death Don't Have No Mercy", which they throw onto the audience with no more mercy than any of the preceding two hours. When it finally ends, we sense all the finality of a mountain falling from the sky at the nod of a head (possibly the one Jimi Hendrix chops down with the back of his hand).

Heh, but this is far from being the end -- that comes later. Instead, they tune up a bit (not a segue, despite the claim in Deadbase), and load up the final reels for this night's performance (not to mention the four-day run) with "Alligator". Oh yeah: they're really going for it tonight -- past comes to present, like a tombstone for the future, because there will never be a series of shows like this again (although they would come close, next
year at the Fillmore East). The vamp lopes along easy as Sunday morning (although by this time it may well have been Monday), all deceptively low-key. Of course, we know better, and so did those in attendance: soon enough, this bus has dumped us off at the Station of the Battering Drummers for some popcorn-poppin' entertainment. This, of course, is only second gear; a fact made more apparent when the band returns and things shift into third. Typical "Alligator"-ish structure, but by golly does it work! 

Here begins the interesting part -- the one labeled simply "Jam" on the tapes. What the heck else can it be called? And yet it's clearly much more than ONE jam; 23 minutes later, it's hard to say exactly how many, or what -- but it's certainly more than that!

First, the band jumps on the unflagging drum rhythms like a bunch of tramps catching the 8:15 out of Oakland. It's an interesting view from the back of a rolling train -- sooty from diesel dust, but sweet with the smell of freedom. The tracks unroll away to the past; the future is behind your back, pulled by a thousand tons of live steel. Inside the boxcars, the floor moves even as you sit still: the occasional lateral jerk smoothed by the constant sense of forward motion. Likewise, the band jerks in fits and starts, but always moves forward.

Hopping a train is always an exercise in existentialism -- there is no saying where it might go. After a long, slow buildup, we pass through a section of "We Bid You Goodnight", followed by a vicious cut; this will be one of the better reasons for buying the official release. Another jam follows, in a rather different mood; call this fourth gear. These are the jams the band seem to have forgotten how to do on their later phases: unstructured, unmindful of melody, just long discourses into possibilities of energy & movement (which, I suppose, are the same thing).

One of the highlights of this show then surfaces in the form of a long section of Jerry dueling the drummers alone; the band eventually steps in to help, but soon enough leave Phil to likewise run the gamut of his thoughts. We can't really be surprised by where they lead -- it's hard to say exactly when this portion turns into "Caution", but there's no question that, at some point, it had already happened long before. And, of course, we are now in overdrive.

"I went downnnnnnnnn ...." intones Pigpen -- rather too low in the mix, as Bobby had been on "The Other One". This, too, should be fixed in the official release. But we're right there with him. This will  not be quite so comprehensible a "song" as (say) the 4/08/72 rendition heard on STEPPIN' OUT; at this point, the band seem keener on the overall momentum of the set, blurring the distinctions of "song" and "jam". Now, we are *all* hoboes on the train, hurtling down some long decline. And I will confess: I lied earlier, when I said we could get off -- it's too late now, so hold on tight & hope we can ride it out. Are there better versions of "Caution"? Oh, probably. Will you care? I doubt it. 

As is often the case, this story has no end: the band dissolves into "Feedback", followed by a short but proper rendering of "And We Bid You Goodnight". These are familiar to us from LIVE DEAD, but what of it? They conclude not only this show but the run as a whole, but not in any kind of conclusive way. Those seeking some kind of ending are best advised to start over & listen again; the music is the message, the traveling is the medium. 

Fillmore West, 3/02/69

Ramble On Joe ©