Jesse Jarno (4:18)

We'll start with a thought that sociologist Dr. Rebecca Adams offered during our Dead Freaks Unite episode about what happened to the Grateful Dead community in the years after the Grateful Dead officially dissolved in 1995.

Rebecca Adams (4:30)

We no longer have a community where.

Julie DeLong (4:32)

We all knew what the party was that night.

Rebecca Adams (4:35)

We all knew what the big party.

Beth Carroll (4:37)

Was back when the Dead were on tour.

Julie DeLong (4:40)

We knew which show we were supposed to be at.

Beth Carroll (4:43)

Now you've got to choose where you are and which part of the Deadhead.

Rebecca Adams (4:48)

Community you're going to encounter.

Jesse Jarno (4:50)

Some Deadheads see each other at Dedham Company shows, or Phil Lesh and Friends or the Wolf Brothers, or gather at Dead Night at their local bar. Or maybe even all of the above. Some rendezvous every year at the Oregon Country Fair or convened for backyard grill outs, basement listening parties on boss sound systems, private acid quizzes, shows by other non jam bands, wharf rat meetings on social media, and for many other reasons, both intentional and accidental. Surely there are Deadheads for nearly all occasions. And while it's not exactly a party, if you go to Albuquerque most February's you'll encounter the temporary autonomous zone known as the Grateful Dead Scholars Caucus meeting as part of the Southwest Popular Culture Association Conference there's long been scholarship about the Grateful Dead. Considered as primo specimens of the psychedelic counterculture, they were the subject of studies starting in the early 1970s and of course in the 80s. Dead base created a model for fan scholarship. We interviewed co creator Mike Dalgushkin about that last episode, but it was in the late 90s that the academic scholars began to gather, mostly in Albuquerque, but also in the pages of scholarly journals and collections, at a few Dead specific symposiums and more recently at the National Popular Culture association conference. Behind much of this activity is historian Nicholas Merriweather, a name you might also know from Grateful Deadliner Notes and the first keeper of the official Dead archive at UC Santa Cruz. Lately, Nicholas has founded the Grateful Dead Studies association, getting ready for its second annual meeting in April at the National Popular Culture Association Conference Virtual this year. And in February, Nicholas will once again serve as area chair for the Dead Caucus. Back in person in Albuquerque. We've posted links to all of the above@dead.net deadcast please welcome back to the Grateful Deadcast, Nicholas Merriweather.

Nicholas Merriweather (6:52)

I've been thinking and studying the Dead more or less since my very first show, which was November 10, 1985. And a bunch of my friends I was in college, sophomore at the time, and a bunch of my friends took me to a show at the Meadowlands, and I was absolutely smitten the second I walked into the parking lot. It was just wonderful, and the show was amazing. And when we walked out of the show, one of my friends asked me, so, what did you think? And I said, I will spend the rest of my life thinking about this. And really, I have one of the things that really struck me that night is when you listened to a Grateful Dead show, you were really listening to history. There was so. There was so much there. There was so much depth, so much resonance. And you had a sense that you were listening to not only a band that had a lot of history and was still exploring it, but you were. You were listening to that history not only unfolding, but almost a band that was in dialogue with its own history. And so I was studying history at the time and became a historian. And so I was kind of, I had my antenna up for this is I didn't have the term then, but, you know, this is a kind of public history almost. And I thought that was fascinating. And since it's 1985, it's the height of the Reagan 80s, and, and much of what was happening in mainstream cultural and certainly political discourse was kind of an interrogation and dismissal and argument over the meaning of the counterculture in the 1960s. And so when you walked into a Dead show, well, here was the absolute artistic musical repudiation of almost everything that passed for what the mainstream was saying about the 1960s. I started reading immediately, and I also kind of shifted.

Beth Carroll (8:59)

I was.

Nicholas Merriweather (8:59)

I was studying 19th century American literature and culture and history, and I immediately signed up for a senior seminar on the Vietnam War. I immediately started, I remember coming back to college that night, and a friend of mine gave me his battered copy of the Electric Kool Aid Acid Test and said, you, you need to read this. And I sort of looked at him and I said, yes, I do find.

Jesse Jarno (9:23)

The others, Timothy Leary once said. And by the mid-90s, Nicholas Meriwether did that. Connecting to a National Group of Dead.

Nicholas Merriweather (9:30)

Scholars Rob Weiner, who's a librarian at Texas Tech University, was involved in the Southwest Texas American Popular Culture Association. He had the idea after 1995. He thought a way of keeping alive our spirit and interest in the Grateful Dead would be to have some academic conference papers. A couple of years later there were enough papers to actually make it a formal area, which means multiple sessions spanning a couple of days, and since 1998 it's met every year. There have been two great big conferences devoted to it. 2007 at UMass Amherst, Michael Grabscheid convened an amazing three day conference that had dozens of papers, had Bill Walton there, had Carolyn M.G. garcia, Dan Healy seven years after that, Michael Parish, who was at that time dean of College of Sciences at San Jose State University. He and I co chaired a big conference called Seminary Roads and that brought together more than 100 papers. And that was another three day conference as well. Lots and lots of stuff. Bill Koozman gave the keynote speech, which was amazing, and since then I think there have been more and more papers actually given at other conferences as well. But still, the locus and the incubator of most of the scholarship is the group that continues to meet in Albuquerque every year at the swpca.

Jesse Jarno (11:07)

For the past few years, the Caucus has been given a place of honor in a conference room on the upper floors high over Albuquerque with a view of the Civic center where the dead played on November 17, 1971. Now Dave's picks 26 if you've visited the Dead cast before, as you may have surmised, these are my people and it's one of my happy places. To paraphrase Willie Legate, there is nothing like a Grateful Dead conference. I wrote about the conferences a bunch in a story called the Deadologists, which we've linked to@dead.net deadcast. The 2021 edition, of course, was remote and we're going to listen to excerpts from a number of presentations. Thanks to all the participants for their permission to feature these. Rebecca Adams appeared in a few panels outside the Dead track, acting as ambassador from the Dead world to the outside scholarly community. One presentation was titled Collaborative Teaching with the Grateful Dead on tour, on campus and Online.

Rebecca Adams (12:28)

Many of us here at this conference.

Beth Carroll (12:30)

Popular culture is now an accepted focus for research and teaching.

Rebecca Adams (12:35)

It was really stigmatized back then in.

Beth Carroll (12:38)

The beginning of time, and the Grateful Dead And Deadheads are a lot less stigmatized now. They're much more widely accepted as musicians and bands.

Jesse Jarno (12:49)

In the summer of 1989, she took a group of students on the Dead summer tour.

Beth Carroll (12:53)

I took the class on tour. It was actually two classes. Search 501502 qualitative research methods in Applied Social Theory. The students were required to take both of the classes simultaneously. 21 students, 2 graduate assistants, 5 members of a video crew, a photographer, a bus driver. And for the second leg of summer tour, my husband and daughter comprised the class. They explored the social world of Deadheads. And we were supposed to do a lot of meetings on the bus, but we actually ended up doing most of our meetings in the hotel room. We separated at concerts. They had their own experience. And then we came back together and discussed it.

Jesse Jarno (13:37)

Rebecca co edited a book of papers that grew from the class titled Deadhead Social Science. You Ain't Gonna Learn what yout Don't Wanna Know. We've posted a link@dead.net deadcast grateful dead.

Beth Carroll (13:48)

Shows were improvisations within a structure. The structure of the show was comforting to Dead heads, but allowed them to be adventurous. And this improvisational ethos filters down into the everyday practice of Deadheads. As many of my colleagues in the Grateful Dead Caucus have written, concerts were also examples of secular rituals. Here I cite Victor Turner's book in 1969.

Rebecca Adams (14:17)

Many other deadheads have cited his book.

Beth Carroll (14:19)

But basically the argument is that during a show at, external statuses became irrelevant. And this liminality between what was before the show and what was after the show allows magic to happen and both personal and cultural transformation to occur during the shows. So devheads are kind of very self consciously applied this ethos to their everyday lives and professional lives and applied for teaching. This allows for risk taking and collaboration across status differences.

Jesse Jarno (14:55)

The Deadhead scholarly community evolved over 20 years with many sub branches and conversations.

Nicholas Merriweather (15:01)

At one point I counted 27 different disciplines and fields. And it gets a little bit murky because, you know, what's the borderline between a discipline and a field. It's everything from anthropology to history to literature to musicology. Couple of different kinds of musicology, lots of different kinds of sociology. It's not just that Grateful Dead Studies is interdisciplinary. It's unique in that it requires all scholars who are working in it to read way outside of their disciplines, which is taking us out of our comfort zones. And I thought that was just the most marvelous metaphor for what the Grateful Dead exemplified on stage. It's sort of like there's this absolute continuum of how the band approached their own work and their own music and their own art, every aspect of it, and how that actually models the kind of behavior that scholars at their best at our best should also follow Brent.

Jesse Jarno (15:59)

Wood lectures in the Department of English and Drama at the University of Toronto at Mississauga. This December, Routledge will publish his book the Tragic Odes of Jerry Garcia and the Grateful Mystery Dances in the Magic Theater. We've posted a link@dead.net deadcast the history.

Brentwood Robert Roni (16:16)

And composition of Scarlet Begonias in tandem with its medley mate Fire on the Mountain can be heard as a microcosm of the Grateful Dead's unusual career. The parallels and contrasts they embody, the messages in their lyrics, the musical intricacies and evolution can together be read as emblematic of the group's challenges, contradictions, changes and achievements. A microcosm or touchstone resonating with tragic overtones, adding a metacritical layer to the phrase dead to the core. From Fire on the Mountain Fire Fire.

Jesse Jarno (16:49)

On the Mountain May 8, 1977 Naturally from Get Shown the Light, Brent touched on that classic version in his paper.

Brentwood Robert Roni (16:58)

And the performance has something for every taste clear in tune, harmony, vocals, timbrel and textural contrasts, morphing rhythms, an attractive melodic contours from Garcia's guitar. In addition to the bass and bells, the Drummers maintained the 16th beat framework throughout Scarlet Begonias, maximizing syncopation possibilities 25 minutes long in this performance, the medley became the longest sustained dance vehicle in the group's repertoire and in some later concerts stretched out beyond 30 minutes.

Jesse Jarno (17:58)

When Brent talks about microcosms, he really means it.

Brentwood Robert Roni (18:01)

The sing along chorus, absent from Scarlet rings loudly and simply in Fire on the Mountain, poignantly prefaced by a passing minor chord, a sonority absent from its partner. The addition of a C sharp minor chord at the turnaround of each chorus line illustrates Garcia's interest in tinkering with the arrangements of the songs he sang with Grateful Dead for expressive purposes. That insertion of that kind of minor chord, just a passing chord, into an all major progression to evoke a fleeting moment of pathos. That's one of Garcia's signature gestures that's originated with his arrangements of Know youw Rider and Morning Dew. Still toying with the C sharp minor addition, Garcia used it only on the last repeating chorus during spring 77.

Jesse Jarno (18:42)

It's pretty subtle in those early versions, right after Garcia and Donna finish each line in the final chorus, like this one from May 25, 1977 in Richmond, Virginia. From Dave's Picks one coming out on vinyl in early 2020.

Julie DeLong (19:02)

Fire.

Jesse Jarno (19:05)

Fire on.

Nicholas Merriweather (19:05)

The Mountain.

Jesse Jarno (19:11)

Though the May 8, 1977 performance became the definitive take to many, Brent rightly points out that Fire on the Mountain wasn't yet finished.

Brentwood Robert Roni (19:18)

The group continued to pump out popular versions of the medley throughout spring 77, with the drummers maintaining the 16th beat feeling for Scarlet, but their summer tour was derailed by an injury to Hart when they returned to the stage in the fall. The drummers resumed their playing with the shift into 44 time, but returned to 16's for the new Year's Eve concert at Winterland. Not until recording sessions for Shakedown street In the summer of 78 did Garcia add the middle verse and settle the lyrics. The group continued to employ the 44 beat often throughout 1978 and early 79 until the God shows were replaced by Brent Midland in the spring. Meanwhile, Garcia kept experimenting with the point at which he wanted to introduce that C sharp minor chord until finally he made it standard after each chorus line in 1979.

Jesse Jarno (20:25)

That version was recorded at Radio City Music hall in 1980, released on Dead Set, Brent's Whole paper was fantastic and even heavy.

Brentwood Robert Roni (20:33)

Hunter noted in A Box of Rain that he had written the lyric at Hart's ranch while a blaze raged on the surrounding hills. As the catastrophic California wildfires in the past few years demonstrate. The song's warning about the psychology of competition, overwork over consumption and addiction was not only for Garcia or even for drug addicts, but for all of North American society. If Fire on the Mountain became a soundtrack for Garcia's tragic decline in the late 20th century, it now plays the same role for us all as we plunge headlong into climate crisis triggered by the same problems that plagued Garcia, but on a global scale.

Jesse Jarno (21:44)

One feature of the conference is a question and discussion section that often gets even deeper into the details. While we can't reproduce one in its entirety, my co host Rich does have a comment for Brent.

Rich Mahan (21:53)

Thanks Jesse. Hi Brent, Love that you brought this up for discussion. Fire on the Mountain and this addition of the chord after the A major chord is a great example of Jerry changing a riff as a song progressed. I'm wondering if this is actually an A major seventh versus a C sharp minor. Both chords are very close to each other in structure, but it seems to me an A major seventh serves the song better, retaining the A as the root note versus that C sharp.

Jesse Jarno (22:21)

If you've got other thoughts on that Fire on the Mountain chord or anything else that cups up, drop us a line@dead.net deadcast another musicology presentation I found fascinating was by Melvin Backstrom. Compositional change in the music of the Dead. Like Brent, Mel focused on how the Dead's music gradually changed shape, sometimes even after decades. Did you know that they slightly rewrote the chord changes to Darkstar in 1990?

Brentwood Robert Roni (22:46)

So from his first release as a single in 1968 until its March 29, 1990 version famously featured Branford Marsalis, the harmonic form of the verses of Darkstar remained the same. First line, A major, then a shift to the to E minor, then the third line, E minor, then a shift back to A major for shall we Go? Beginning with its subsequent live version, however. So the next one, and this is the last one to feature Brent Midland on July 12, 1990. So they didn't play it. They. They didn't play it between the 29th of March and July 12th. There's a difference. And this carries through to every single one that I've been able to find that I've been able, that I've. That I've listened to. From this point all the way up until the final Dark Star, the final performance, its harmonic form is instead A, A, B, A, B, A, B. So with the second line set to A major, okay, Followed by a shift to E minor for the third. So when it gets to reason, tatters, listen. It doesn't go to E minor, it stays on. It's the same pattern as the first line.

Corey Arnold (24:45)

The forces differ from the axis.

Jesse Jarno (24:51)

When they get to Searchlight, casting the E minor finally arrives.

Brentwood Robert Roni (25:08)

The reasons for this change are perhaps known only to Phyleshe, although given its significance and change it would have demanded of Bob Weir, perhaps he would know something about it as well as the composer of Dark Star, that is the song rather than the accreted collective improvisation. Perhaps it originated with Garcia, thinking it made for a better harmonic setting of that second line. As one who played Darkstar both before and after the change, perhaps Marsalis might know something about it too. Regardless of the reason for the change, however, that it happened so late in Darkstar's performing history is curious to say the least. And the timing is interesting. Could Marsalis involvement have somehow been the impetus for the change?

Jesse Jarno (25:54)

Sometimes questions like that just don't have answers. But every single Dead conference I've attended, I've walked away with a richer understanding of the band and their music, from the subtleties of the arrangements to non musical ways the band functioned. We've posted a link to Mel's thesis, the Grateful Dead and their popular music in the avant garde and the San Francisco Bay Area, 1965-1975 at dead.net Deadcast presentations ranged far past musicology, though sometimes shifting the frame of the band's history. Beth Carroll, professor of rhetoric and composition at Appalachian State University, is a conference regular presenting pieces of a large ongoing research project.

Beth Carroll (26:34)

My general framework for the project is.

Rebecca Adams (26:36)

That women's contributions really shape the direction and the impact and the legacy of the Grateful Dead.

Jesse Jarno (26:42)

Informing the project is a deeper theoretical.

Rebecca Adams (26:45)

Social reproduction theory, investigating women's work and really looking at women's work in a more holistic way as the paid and unpaid labor as well as the domestic and more public work, sort of seeing women's value in a different light by considering the economy to include all of those different features.

Jesse Jarno (27:04)

The title of Beth's paper was the Spiritual Mother to All Deadheads and its subject was Eileen Law.

Rebecca Adams (27:10)

She was literally the voice of the organization for Deadheads for years through the Hotline number Thank you for calling the.

Beth Carroll (27:17)

Grateful Dead hotline number. This is a new message. As of 24th, the Grateful Dead will be playing at the Oakland Coliseum arena in Oakland, California on December 15th, 16th and 17th. There are still plenty of tickets available.

Rebecca Adams (27:34)

Through all Bass Ticket Centers. She was in charge of the Deadheads mailing list from 1972-93, the voice of the Grateful Dead hotline from 76 to 95, in charge of the guest list, which got to be really enormous, especially for home shows from 1980-95. And probably her most significant contribution over the entirety has been to collect materials that have become part of the Grateful Dead archive. And she did that in an unofficial as well as an official capacity. She was office manager at least at.

Julie DeLong (28:09)

One point, maybe various points in the.

Rebecca Adams (28:11)

1980S, and she's worked with Ice 9 publishing with the newsletter with their copyright, with research, with requests from publishers.

Jesse Jarno (28:19)

Eileen Law's work doesn't fall into the unpaid labor aspect, but as the connection point between Deadheads and the Dead themselves. Her influence can still be felt in.

Rebecca Adams (28:27)

Her interview about the list with communication with the band, she says, people would write, do you know the band members? Have you met them? I'm sure many bands don't know what's going on at their shows unless something terrible happens. But just like the day to day business, our fans had a place to write in and tell us.

Beth Carroll (28:44)

We tried to deal with every kind.

Rebecca Adams (28:45)

Of complaint and we had a bulletin board in the kitchen at Lincoln where everything was pinned, the good and the bad. Real change happens through these letters.

Jesse Jarno (28:53)

A series of letters about tapers. Setting up taping gear in people's reserved seats pinned to the bulletin board at the band's office was one of the influencing factors when the band instituted their official taper section in 1984. Another feature of Dead conferences are papers and presentations by Dead family members. Roney Stanley, uniquely positioned to comment on life inside the Dead's office, has been a frequent presenter in Albuquerque. Roney wrote a cool book called owsley and my LSD family. We've posted a link@dead.net deadcast I had.

Beth Carroll (29:25)

Been their first secretary, hired because nobody else wanted the job, which I gave up when I got pregnant with Starfinder. Owsley had arranged for Melissa and me, his original partner, Melissa, to split his salary while he was in prison. And of course, the band agreed. Monday was the best day in a Grateful Dead week. Unlike the rest of the working world, Monday was payday. The office on Lincoln and Fifth in San Rafael was full of secretaries, roadies, old ladies and band members, everyone too exhausted from the weekend frivolities to take anything anyone said seriously. And like ducks, we let the water run off our backs. Nobody would be critical. Nobody would cause too many headaches. This was our day for lounging. By 1972, we had moved out of the city to Marin. We had an office separate from the rehearsal studio, a staff, and a payroll. Our accountants, Dave and Bonnie Parker, guardians of our wealth, sat at a table shuffling papers, ready to hand out the payroll. The office was like a home without nannies or babysitters. We brought the children with us. In the corner next to the kitchen, Eileen worked on consolidating the mailing list of Grateful Dead fans and communicating with them. She could have passed for a Quaker, as she rarely wore dazzling colors but preferred muted blues and grays. Her manner, too, was serene and reassuring. Eileen got the job in 1972, when she was already Grateful Dead family.

Jesse Jarno (31:31)

The Dead scene was hardly a bastion of feminism, but it was progressive in its own ways.

Beth Carroll (31:36)

1972, in the business history of the Grateful Dead, was very egalitarian. Men, women, stars, and staff all got the same salary. No matter their role, each person contributed a share that made the whole work better. We never thought of it as a political statement, but perhaps it was.

Jesse Jarno (31:57)

Though the Grateful Dead were known for being apolitical, Roney came up with a way to work with that.

Beth Carroll (32:01)

Jerry would listen to Mountain Girl. The women of the Grateful Dead actually had an influence on the men. I went into the kitchen and grabbed some cheese without the bread. MG Knew I followed Owsley's diet of no carbs and she didn't bust my chops. I crumbled up a piece of cheese and and put it into my baby's mouth. He gurgled and looked happy, his big blue eyes smiling now. His hair was turning blonde and wavy when he was born. It was dark and straight. MG I want to set up a political table in the office, I declared. She laughed loudly. Jerry will never allow it. I told her my idea. November 7, 1972, was the election and one of the propositions on the ballot. Proposition 19 was for decriminalization of marijuana. No person 18 years of age or older shall be punished in any way for personal use or growth of marijuana. What if we had a table in the office and we registered everyone to vote? It wasn't exactly political because we weren't saying vote yes for Prop 19. We were simply giving everybody the opportunity to exercise their right as citizens of the United States to vote. Brilliant, she replied. Let's take it up the fire pole. Let's bring it to Jerry. Of course Jerry agreed.

Jesse Jarno (33:55)

Though Proposition 19 failed decades before Rock the Vote and Headcount, Roy was on it. I often come away from Dead conferences thinking about the Dead from a number of new perspectives and through a number of news stories. Roney's voter registration tale was one. Our Puba Nicholas Meriwether made this observation in his presentation.

Nicholas Merriweather (34:14)

Even well publicized parts of the Dead's history can still offer new insights, not only for those interested in the band, but especially for those interested in the ways that the Dead connect to and illuminate the larger defining issues in the counterculture and the 1960s.

Jesse Jarno (34:29)

Nicholas Paper was titled LSD and the Dead's first appearance on an album in.

Nicholas Merriweather (34:33)

Summer 1966, Capitol Records released an unusual LP entitled simply LSD. Recorded just after California had passed legislation outlawing the drug, the album was the first documentary on the label. There are really more journalistic expose than documentary. The LP claimed to present a balanced overview of the LSD issue, with interviews from medical experts in law enforcement, along with stories from users and opinions from national luminaries such as Allen Ginsberg and Timothy Leary. The album was largely the work of photographer Lawrence Schiller, who spent several weeks immersed in the Los Angeles underground, interviewing several merry pranksters, but mostly locals, a few of whom intersected with the outskirts of the Dead circle during the band's sojourn there in the spring of 1966. Although a flop commercially, the LP is long than a collector's curio, mostly for the subject matter, but also for Its approach usually characterized as Reaper Madness style scaremongery, though perhaps not quite as exaggerated.

Jesse Jarno (35:32)

This young man never had a bummer in some 33 LSD trips, every one of them was a delight. Everything under control, he needed only to snap his fingers and down he came. Anytime. But on voyage 34 he finally met himself coming down an up staircase, and the encounter was crushing.

Nicholas Merriweather (35:57)

For scholars of the Grateful Dead, the album is more significant than its achievement suggests. Not only does it include both written and audio references to Owlsley Stanley's chemical acumen and his role as the band's patron, it also represents the first appearance of the Grateful Dead on an lp. That bit of trivia is misleading. Had the band's name not been included as part of a glossary of terms and misspelled at that, any ruled connection could be dismissed. There is no substantive music by the band, just a minute of sonic weirdness from an acid test that listeners would be hard pressed to definitively attribute to the Dead.

Jesse Jarno (36:34)

Ken Kesey is another prime mover in the LSD order. He organized and incorporated a peripatetic repertory troupe called the Acid Test, a group formed to simulate and stimulate the LSD.

Rich Mahan (36:47)

Experiences for paying audiences.

Jesse Jarno (36:49)

Projectors, flash signs, messages and kaleidoscopic patterns on the walls, blinking strobe lights, silhouette, the dancing throngs making them resemble fragmented memories of an LSD high. And though the Dead only appear on the album in the most literal and non musical way, they are very much adjacent to its contents, and a look into its history reveals the Contours of the Dead's world in 1966, and where their countercultural existence and professional ambitions may not have overlapped. We talked extensively about the tiny window the Dead and Owsley Stanley spent in Southern California during our bonus episode bear drops LA66.

Nicholas Merriweather (37:29)

By the time the Summer of Love catapulted the haight Ashbury into international prominence a year later, Capitol's confused foray into the thick of the counterculture was quickly forgotten. The label jumped on the San Francisco bandwagon and began to build their own roster of psychedelic bands, signing the Dead's Friends, Quicksilver Messenger Service, among others. The LP may have been Dead, but it wasn't finished with the Dead. Fourteen months after the album's release, the Grateful Dead's House and the Hate was raided, with several band members, associates and friends arrested. The day after the bust, the front Page story in the San Francisco Chronicle reported that the Dead quote came on the scene last year as the group playing for a Capitol Records documentary called lsd the record was produced by owsley Stanley, a 31 year old who reportedly retired a millionaire by selling acid before it became illegal. That was nonsense, but the fact that the police credit site of the LP is central to the man's reputation must have made the Dead groan. The bust happened a year after California's law prohibiting possession of LSD took effect, effectively exiling even the experience of taking the drug to the criminal margins of society. Outlawing the knowledge and transformation that ingestion brought became one of the central and most powerful currents in the counterculture and became a defining part of the Dead's early identity that makes the LP an agent of exile on several levels, ones that dramatically affected the Dead. That's a lot to hang on an obscure album, and ultimately the LP is far more interesting for its implications than than it is significant on its face. But those implications are important. For the Dead, the LP was their first encounter with the corporate music industry, and that experience taught them that a major label could be cynical, exploitative and cruel. It's hard not to wonder if those impressions contributed to the man's deep ambivalence about the record industry. The LP also demonstrated the power of bad publicity, a lesson made frighteningly real by their arrest. In time, they learned to harness the machinery of pr, but media bashing remained a constant in their career. As Garcia observed in a 1991 interview, lost in the mythic blow that Tom Wolfe's the Electric Kool Aid Acid Test would cast over this era is the darker story of the threat that anti LSD hysteria posed before the band really became established, and the complex role it played in their reception. The LP is a stark reminder of the origins of that stigma.

Jesse Jarno (40:05)

There are two elements of the conference that don't quite translate to the podcast format. The first are the question answer comment conversation segments that follow the presentations. With singular mixes of personalities and scholarly and experience knowledge in the room, as well as the privilege of working out ideas among colleagues. It can often turn into a free flowing but not quite freewheeling discussion, but that calls back to previous presentations and previous comment sessions. You kinda have to be there. The conversation hardly ends there, though, spilling into the proverbial set breaks and beyond. Naturally, with a bunch of Deadheads hanging out in a faraway town, everything spills over into group dinners, hootenannies, house parties, hotel listening sessions, museum visits, anthropological field trips to see local cover bands and more. As my friend Christian Krumlish put it, referencing Tennessee Jed, think all day, talk all night. The company is delightful and interdisciplinary. Just make sure you're there in time for the morning session. While plenty of presentations at the scholarly conferences focus on history and musicology, there are numerous frames for the Dead's music, and we're going to let one especially rich paper stand in for numerous personal but scholarly approaches. Isaac Sloan's paper the Transmission of Jewish Identity on the Jam Band Dance Floor, calls on spirituality, movement studies, queer theory, memoir, and more.

Isaac Sloan (41:27)

The jam band genre develops its integrity, its mode of music production, and its following in celebration of ephemeral spaces. Grateful Dead guitarist and singer Jerry Garcia muses on this foundational aspect of the band's philosophy. Garcia remembers seeing the Los Angeles Watts Towers in their permanence and reflecting on his art and offering to the world.

Brentwood Robert Roni (41:48)

I thought, wow, that's not it for me. Instead of making something that lasts forever, I thought, I think I'd rather have fun. For me, it was more important to be involved in something that was flowing and dynamic and not so solid that you couldn't tear it down.

Isaac Sloan (42:03)

This philosophy came to inform the jam band genre.

Jesse Jarno (42:06)

That story can of course, be heard in Amir Barlev's great Long Strange Trip documentary, and we went into its context. In Our Bear drops LA66 episode, Isaac opens up the concept of the ephemeral.

Isaac Sloan (42:18)

Ephemeral moments occur in innumerable ways at these shows. These moments may take the form of an encounter with a smiling stranger, a memory caused by a particular riff of music, or an embodied experience provoked through dance. The acknowledgment, study, and memorialization of ephemeral moments as a means of relating to history is an aspect of Deadhead culture that compels me. The concert space creates can mean being out of step with normative concert practices in ways that can feel liberating, dancing in ways that would look odd when set to other kinds of music, dancing through the aisles and giving full attention to music and environment. To me, the jamba and audience always looks as if they're engaged in prayer as they sway and bow. I too dance to music in ways that mimics the act of shuckling, a Yiddish word meaning to shake that refers to the ways Jews deep in prayer sway back and forth. It refers to the bodily method meant to foster total physical, mental, and spiritual immersion. The soul is like a flame moving and flickering in prayer as one's body moves back and forth. Both in synagogue and at shows, this kind of movement enables participants to achieve total spiritual immersion. As an observant Jew who shuffles at synagogue as well as at jamban shows, I find in both settings a familiar and welcoming feeling of giving my full body over to the experience while dancing or shuckling at synagogue. My physical stature is not under observation or at threat of being judged. The Jamban concert space is more public than a synagogue, but still allows me to engage in the sacred and powerful movement that's divinely sanctioned by fellow heads. Though this type of movement is liberating for me it is steeped in a complex history. In the 19th century Europe, the Jew was closely bound to the idea of the diseased hysteric. At the time, hysteria was seen as a diagnosable and treatable illness most commonly seen in females. Feminized males such as Jews were also diagnosed as hysterics. In fact, much of popular and scientific literature of the 19th and early 20th century argues that hysteria sets Jewish men apart from other men. These ideas highlight the anti Semitism and implicit misogyny that underwrote representations of Jewishness at the time. Though I do not believe that Jamban concert spaces are essentially Jewish, Jamban music has a particular influence on some of its Jewish fans, in part because of the style of dance the music evokes and invites the unscripted and expressive qualities of this dancing help me freely explore the queerness of my Jewish body moving without care for how I look and in whatever way I desire.

Jesse Jarno (44:56)

The Grateful Dead experience can be understood in as many different ways as there are Dead listeners, and those listeners are very much still coming. Though she didn't get to present it at the conference proper, Julie DeLong wrote a paper called Strangers Stopping Subcultural Recruitments of Deadheads in the Digital Age. She posed a series of fascinating questions about 21st century Grateful Dead culture.

Julie DeLong (45:17)

While the initial stage of my subcultural recruitment was through physical points of contact or people I knew, in real life, most of the deeper learning and familiarization with the Dead and their music was facilitated through the Internet. Does that make me less of a Deadhead? And similarly, are such virtual communities any different from those arising from embodied face to face encounters today? The point of contact one might have with the Deadhead community could be a complete stranger on a social media platform, message board, or other online community. If the point of contact and means of subcultural recruitment have changed, has the Deadhead subculture itself changed? How have the values of the subculture changed since the Internet became a primary means of recruiting new members? Since the Dead's inception, fans have been separated by physical distance and other barriers and have used various forms of technology, including radio, newsletters, podcasts, and more, to connect with other Deadheads and intentionally build community. Message boards and social media platforms create a permanent place of gathering for Deadheads and other fan groups, as opposed to the ephemerality of shakedown streets and tours. Reinkold argues, Deadheads didn't have a place, demonstrating the need for the establishment of a virtual one. The virtual community of Deadheads provided more than just a place in which Jerry Garcia can be mourned. Instead, this virtual community not only sustained Deadheads already on the bus, so to speak, in 1995, but has continued to recruit others in the days since. While technology is often demonized as having negative irreparable effects on interpersonal relationships and intellectual thoughts, technology is not simply the intrusion of scientific hardware on authentic human experience, but as a cultural phenomenon that permeates and informs almost every aspect of human existence, including forms of musical knowledge and practice. The recruitment of new members continues thanks to a vibrant online community that makes possible communities and new social practices that may have been unimaginable before. Physical barriers dissolve and tour never stopped on the Internet, which provides a new materiality through which social interaction and group formation can take place and from which new possibilities for subjectivity and group identity can emerge. The move from the dead to physical to digital subculture allows not only more people to get on the bus, but also allows older folks who comprise most of the Deadhead community, to participate, barring any technological resistance, of course.

Jesse Jarno (47:35)

Julie also moderates so many reads, an online Grateful Dead book club. We've posted a link@dead.net deadcast Clinical psychologist Adam Brown visited us during our last episode Dead Freaks Unite and was a first time presenter at the dead caucus in 2021 with his moving paper We Will Get By, We Will Survive, situating intergenerational Grateful Dead memories, lyrics and cultures into frameworks for emotional coping and resilience during the COVID 19 pandemic.

Rebecca Adams (48:04)

I am a clinical psychologist, so a lot of my time is spent thinking about how traumatic events and different stressors and upheaval impact individuals and communities on large scales. And so we all know personally how hard these months have been. I can't believe it's almost a year since we really sort of went into lockdown and remote mode. And I just want to share a little bit of that data and how Grateful Dead music in some way has personally helped me to name a lot of the emotional experience experiences that I've been going through and probably a lot of other folks as well. But then I want to pivot into talking about emotional resilience, which in my field is something a lot of us think about, which is not only the factors that make it hard to bounce back from difficult events, but what are the ingredients? What are the different processes that allow us to weather the storms of life? And can we begin to really understand those so we can integrate them into our lives, into our therapies, as a way to support people and heal and overcome challenges? And I want to focus on one process that we're increasingly recognizing as important in that, which is the power of family stories. There is something incredibly important about the stories that we share across generations that seem to help people overcome even the darkest of times. And what I'd like to argue, and building on other people's work, too, who've really thought about the Grateful Dead as a certain type of community, a certain type of family, that even though this might not be made up of a biological family, there's enough of a sort of family structure that allows for the transmission of various levels of stories that during COVID 19, is helping us to stay, to some degree, emotionally resilient. And that's not to say that Deadheads aren't experiencing a lot of the mental health challenges that come with COVID 19. But there is, I think, some evidence of people feeling generative, people feeling proactive, coming together, showing up digitally online that reflects a certain amount of ongoing engagement and focus towards the future. And I've been thinking a lot about why is that, and I wonder how much of these stories might be contributing to this overall sense of being able to carry on. You can think about a family, of course, in biological and genetic terms, but we also can think a lot about family in terms of other forms of family. And if you especially look towards research coming from the LGBT queer community, there's a lot of research and scholarship around this idea of chosen families, that when people feel like they are marginalized and when they are not accepted into a biological family, well, people are adaptive, they are resilient. They find other families to create. And one of the wonderful things about the Grateful Dead family is that it is so diverse in terms of the kinds of people who come to, whether it's shows or online spaces and connect with one another. And not that it necessarily replaces their biological families, but it's an additional form of family that often gets added to their social support system and ways in which they engage socially in their lives. And when I think about the Grateful Dead, I think about memory and the questions that as soon as you enter into the Grateful Dead world, memory is sort of front and center. What was your first show? You know, the last Dead and Company show I saw, I got online, waiting to get in, met someone I had never met before. First question he asked me was, what was your first show? You know, memory is automatically a part of the experience. Or I was there when they first played something, the sort of flashbulb memory of, where were you when Jerry died? But memory seems to be such a part of this community that has been making me think more and more about how does this form of chosen family and its relationship to memory possibly serve as a conduit for some of these ingredients that I mentioned before around human resilience.

Jesse Jarno (52:17)

In our last episode, Dead Freaks Unite, Steve Silberman talked about how the second set of Dead performances were the musical embodiment of a psychedelic journey. And Rebecca Adams shared data about how this structure lent itself to deep personal realization.

Rebecca Adams (52:30)

That structure provides for something like a meditation where, again, we kind of accept whatever happens within those two sets and the different points of that journey without really trying to change anything. This is the framework for which we are okay with whatever directions it takes, and then just a few more. Certainly with Impermanence. I think we see this again and again, both in Barlow and Hunter's writing, where we know that if there's one thing we can count on, it is change. Of course, I think both in a lot of the audio programs, on the radio, on the Internet, there's often this sort of coming back to just how much things, even though they are continuing, they do continue to change and move in different directions. And that's not only something we're okay with, but actually we support and we encourage and we nurture within the Grateful Dead community. I've wondered if taping in some way is a response to that impermanence. You know, we accept the fact that this is one time only, we are bearing witness, but at the same time, we want to find a way to document that impermanence.

Jesse Jarno (53:35)

The Grateful Dead continue to be an incredibly rich lens for a vast array of scholarly disciplines, each with different concerns and interests. Historians are after facts. Musicologists want notes. Sociologists need data. Psychologists want something else.

Rebecca Adams (53:50)

Thankfully, I'm a psychologist and not a lawyer, because to some degree, I don't care if it's accurate. What I'm interested in is the function and the meaning of these stories. So I think I'm a little bit more closer to a literature person where I want to understand why a person is sharing something. Knowing from all of my memory research and so many others that to some degree, our memories suck. Like we were not designed as a species to have really good memories. But we do remember the gist of things. But everything cognitive psychologists and neuroscientists say is that we remember from the present where we are now. It's the lens at which we recall back. And we do all kinds of manipulative things to our memory to help serve our current goals and our future ones.

Jesse Jarno (54:36)

Thanks, Adam. Next up, we have Cory Arnold, who studies memory and the Dead in a different way. Cory has never joined a Dead caucus, but is one of the Dead scene's eminent independent scholars. You may know him from his work in the Golden Road back in the day, or more recently, his great historical Grateful Dead blogs called Lost, Live Dead, Hooderolin, and one name for his very own Specialty, Rock Prosopography 101. Please welcome to the Grateful Dead cast Corey Arnold.

Corey Arnold (55:03)

My first Dead show was 1972. I was in high school December 12, 1972. Basically, I've been taking notes ever since I made the decision decades ago. I wasn't going to be a journalist and I wasn't going to write books, so most of this stuff was for myself. And then the Internet came along and basically it was a form of to me, it was a form of public note taking and so I could point people to them. I didn't realize that people would actually read them and engage. So initially it was like record keeping. And it evolved. My first site with a partner was Chicken on a Unicycle, which is still active.

Jesse Jarno (55:39)

Chicken on a Unicycle provides an incredible array of venue histories, performance chronologies and musician family trees for the Bay Area music scene of the 60s and 70s. Of course, we've posted a link@dead.net deadcast.

Corey Arnold (55:52)

But honestly, that was for Ross and me. We didn't realize other people would read it. And then the blog just got added and then people started to engage and I realized I had something else on my hands from the point of view of, say, the Grateful Dead. Really, it's based on a book by a medieval French historian named Fernand Braudel. Not a name you hear often in rock and roll circles, but let me tell you, a book called Wheels of Commerce. And in Wheels of Commerce, he looks through the account books of Genoese merchants in the 13th and 14th centuries and sees where they're doing business, even though he doesn't know who's doing that business. They're just the account books. So the history of where a band played, you can build a narrative and see the story, even if you don't necessarily know which individuals were Acting, activating the story because our information is sketchy or everyone was stoned and forgot or whatever. But you see where a band, what a band was doing, where bands were playing, where they at. You could tell where there's a scene because bands play there, even if you don't know who was running the scene or what was going on. But the bands show up, we're still learning new things. This is the other thing which is remarkable about the persistence of blogs, which is very different than Twitter, is that these things just sit there. And then each year people get old and they're relaxing, going, oh, yeah, I saw the Dead, and they start Googling, and they come across it and they put in a comment, and it might be two years after the previous comment.

Jesse Jarno (57:28)

One example of Corey's blogs in action was a post about a stray date the Grateful Dead played in Cincinnati in 1968. There was almost nothing known about it, but Corey went to work.

Corey Arnold (57:39)

There was this. The Soto list, which is the urtext of Janet Soto list. The urtext of Grateful Dead lists. Even the errors are the urtext. And it listed. I'm pretty sure it was on that list. And it didn't make sense because it was Thanksgiving. So I started to look into it, and then it turned out there was a teen center and bands that played there, but you put out what's out there, and then people start writing in. And then it turned out there were two nights, and they showed up late the first night, but everybody was there, so they just played a set. Then the next night they played two sets. But these were people who said, oh, yeah, I was there. That's the show I went to. When you try and ask, I don't know, Bob Weir or something, they were at a million shows, but if you only went to one show, then you know it. The other golden source is opening acts, because a band who is a local band who maybe just played around a little bit. The one time they opened for the Dead, it was like the greatest time in their life, and it's absolutely legendary, and they're still dining out on it, so they remember everything.

Jesse Jarno (58:44)

Comment sections have earned a pretty bad rap around the Internet. And for good reason. But not only are the comment sections on Grateful Dead historical blogs benevolent, they're mandatory. That's where the good shit happens. One massive comment thread is attached to a potential lost Live Dead performance that was advertised at Ungannos in New York on February 12, 1970. Reading through the comment thread, it's like the Schrodinger's Cat of Dead shows it both did and didn't happen.

Corey Arnold (59:11)

My new theory, my new theory. My way I explain it is the Dead did play Ngannou's, but not on 2-12-69. So all the memories are from 9-25-69. The people who say they saw it, like Marty Weinberg is 9-25-69, because they all the pieces fit. The Dead were in town. I figured all that out. But that Creedmore State guy who says, no, they didn't show up. That's true too. They didn't show up on February 12, 1970. Probably because Bill Graham was angry. There was an ad and then the comment thread reads like a movie. Dave Davis has some information about how many people attended Dead shows. And if you think about the early he calculated it through Polestar or something. If you think about early Dead shows, before everybody saw shows over and over, it's like we've got 1.5. I figured it out once. 1.5 million memories. We've got to get them all. And that even the ones that are kind of boring people who go, yeah, the show started, they played for a couple hours left. Okay, the show happened. That's actual information. There's plenty of shows. That's all I want to know is that they occurred.

Jesse Jarno (60:19)

Did you see the Dead once? Did you roadie for them, playing an opening band? Check out Corey's sites and add your comments. While you're at it, point your World Wide Web browser to dead.net deadcast and record your story for us. Could end up in a future episode. The world of Grateful Dead scholarship is vast and growing, but it's a big bus and there's always room for more. We've posted links to work by all these scholars@dead.net deadcast as well as a whole lot of other material to think on. See you next time.

Beth Carroll (60:48)

Out of all the reindeer, you know you're the mastermind.

Nicholas Merriweather (60:53)

Run, run A Rudolph Santa's not too.

Brentwood Robert Roni (60:56)

Far behind.

Julie DeLong (60:59)

Runner Rudolph Santa's got to.

Nicholas Merriweather (61:01)

Make it to town.

Julie DeLong (61:05)

I.

Rich Mahan (61:15)

Big thanks to all of our guests who allowed us to use the recordings of their conference presentations in today's episode. And if today's episode piqued your curiosity, head on over to southwestpca.org if you would like to know more about the conference, including information on how to register if you would like to attend. And don't forget to record your own personal Grateful dead story@dead.net deadcast did you go to Europe 72 we especially want to hear from you. Take care out there. And we'll see you next time. Executive producers for the good old Grateful Dead cast Mark Pincus and Doran Tyson. Produced for Rhino Entertainment by Rich Mahan Productions and Jesse Jarno. Special thanks to to David Lemieux. All rights reserved.