Crepuscular Digest #5

Grateful Dead Oregon County Fairgrounds 08/28/82
Simply Stunning Bob Wagner Audience Recording

The connection between Ken Kesey has been a point of endless fascination for me as a confluence of my own personal passions and a fascinating crux point of 1960's counterculture. I've written about it in previous posts here and here. Here's another Kesey Dead connection with the 10 year anniversary of the famous Venetta 1972 show. I think its not that useful a pursuit to try and nail down the Grateful Dead's best show ever, but Venetta 72 is a clear contender. Turns out the anniversary show is very hot as well. There's something about Oregon, something about Kesey and the Pranksters, that brings out the best in the Dead.

Lately I've been listening to a lot of audience recordings where you can barely hear Phil in the mix. This tape is beyond refreshing. The bass is so present, as is Brent's keys. Just a wonderful mix all around. They're definitely feeling it with a hot Bertha to start. Minglewood is super locked in and driving. Hearing Phil clearly makes this tune stand out much more than usual. Great run from Brent in the Minglewood, followed by an equally hot Jerry solo. Jed has a little more bounce than usual. Me and my Uncle is unusually hot. Big River too. It just seems like everything is a little to a lot hotter than usual. They finally slow it down a bit with Althea but its no less on point and groovy. It's only a quick moment to catch your breathe before a rockin' It's All Over Now gets the kids up and dancing again. The bounce of this show is so infectious. China Cat gets a huge reaction from the crowd (perhaps since the Ventta 72 version is so legendary) and rages straight through to I Know You Rider.

Keep Your Day Job starts the second set with a band continuing to sound super locked in. There is some great interplay between Brent and Jerry around 2:50 in. Brent is super funky on the Women Are Smarter intro. It's a brief version without segue. So far a very interesting song selection for  set 2. West LA Fadeaway continues the trend of unique set 2 song selection and also the trend of every tune from this show absolutely strutting. I'm a sucker for any Brent tune and this Far From Me sparkles. There's a brief pause before the band hops into a bubbly Playing in the Band. They waste no time in stretching and pulling the fabric of space-time with the jam. They collectively find a really creative space to occupy at 9 minutes in.

With how incredible this recording is, every moment of drums>space is special. To hear every aspect of what the bands was cooking up is such a gift. The jam out of space is absolute pure and unadulterated bliss. Once the opening notes of the Wheel start, so too do the chills. Just lovely. Just before they journey outside The Wheel, the whole band strikes upon a beautiful theme. After such a beautiful and delicate melody, The Other One (specifically Phil's bass) hits like an absolute brick. It stays powerful and commanding for its entirety and proceeds to hop comfortably into Truckin'. All of the segues in set 2 are really smooth. The Truckin' cooks much in the style of the rest of this show's hotness then takes a lovely downshift into Black Peter. A much needed release of energy. Jerry gives a command performance here drawing out the vocals and guitar lines to a powerful, mournful effect. A fun and unconventional show is wrapped up in fun and unconventional way: a Dupree's encore! Wow this is a great show. So glad to discover such a gem.

 The Disco Biscuits 05/07/04 The Palace Theater, Albany, NY
Plan C approved and gorgeous Chase Banna recording

As I've mentioned in previous posts (The Vanderbilt and Haymaker shows from 2002), I'm listening through all the Disco Biscuits shows I attended in order. Many of them have seriously imprinted memories or listening to the tape brings back a flood of them. When I hit play on this one, I had no memory whatsoever. Which is just bizarre. It was within days of my graduation from college. It was the first Disco Biscuits show I got to see in my home, the city of Albany.  Nothing. Nada. Oh well, maybe that's part of why I'm taking this listening journey. Trying to pin down a few more memories before they're lost to time.

Set 1
To start the night, longtime promoter and staple of the Albany music scene Greg Bell introduces the band and talks about their journey from the local bar gigs in town to the big stage of the Palace. The biscuits start with a bit of an atmospheric jam that seems to be heading towards Floes. Instead, they do a smart about face and drop into Little Lai. It's a sold but not really stretched out opener. To continue with the airy vibe set by the opening jam, Humuhumunukunukuapua'a is up next. I love the places that 2002-04 era Humu jams go (12/29/02 is the gold standard in my opinion). On this night they don't appear to be in a rush to get the ball rolling. It's a pretty confident move considering this is a much bigger room than they had played previously in the Albany area (Saratoga Winners and Northern Lights in the 2000's, Bogies and Valentine's throughout the late 90's).

The first hint of momentum comes at 6:30 into the Humu jam as an insistent four on the floor beat from drummer Dr Samuel Altman starts urging the rest of the band in a darker direction. They peak the jam and segue cleanly into 42. It's still a fairly new tune (just over a year old at this point) and I found it to not always seem comfortable for the band in this era. A lot of the earlier versions I've heard sound like they all had to try really hard. to get through the composition This version has them sounding very comfortable with Brownie offering some sweeping sound effects a la Keller Williams mouth flugel. The jam out of 42 returns to that nice airy and dark mode the Humu jam brought us to. I love the simple descending major scale right at the end that drops just perfectly into Spectacle. I was driving home on a lovely early fall day through the countryside southeast of Albany and the music exactly fit the mood.Wet and Jigsaw are standard offerings though the Jigsaw gets pretty deep.

Set 2
After a quick four count from guitarist Jon "The Barber" Gutwilig,  we're launched into a high energy I-Man. Interesting moments of tension and release starting at the 5 minute mark before dropping back into the composition. I love the melodic and dreamy quality at 8:20 just before dropping into a more brooding minor key jam. The build up is fairly mellow but the peak at 16 minutes is pretty gigantic. Next up we have some fun crowd participation and a nice lil peek into Barber's head with the "No Bull$hit!" chant before an absolutely savage drop into Save the Robots. There's extra mustard on all of the Robots composition. Vocals as well. At the 16 minute mark is where this show starts to get really interesting. Barber does this police scanner future robot chase vocal improv thing that I'd actually love to see more of from him. Shades of Akira. At 23 minutes intensity kicks up a big notch on the way towards the peak.

After robots a lost spunion wanders out onto the stage to Barber which leads to some of my favorite Barber stage banter of all time: "Ladies and gentleman, we're adding a new member to the band! Our new member of the band is....our new super cool member of the band is: Shark! Ladies and gentleman, shark! We;re gonna take shark backstage for some reprogramming! Please stay focused on the band thank you."

Eulogy is a nice cool-down from the fierce robots. It's well played with Magner in particular sparkling on piano. M.E.M.P.H.I.S. is up next (Brownie: "this one's for the dog!") and gets right into a dark and dirty jam with some restrained and perfect leads from Barber. Some of the most subtle and nuanced playing from this show come out of the first Memphis jam. The second jam has a similar groove but a completely different flavor. Killer bounce from Sammy on the drums. Some really lovely guitar and keyboard moments around 19 minutes in from Barber and Magner. The pre-segue last few minutes is exceptionally lovely. Wrapping up 42 was a nice way to finish out a very solid 2004 show. Brownie's banter at the end leads me to believe they had a really fun time playing. Who doesn't like a Nughuffer encore? Short story then right to business so they make curfew. They don't rush it though and there's some fine playing starting just under 10 minutes in.

That Random B

The Grateful Dead, once they started getting deeper into improvisational music in the late 60's, started creating suites of songs or songs that were often connected. They'd start a song, start stretching out and jamming, then slide into the beginning of another song. This is a really critical, foundational element of jam music as we know it today. Something the Grateful brought to popular music. China Cat Sunflower and I Know You Rider were early tunes in the repertoire who found each other and became a nearly inseparable pair.  Scarlet Begonias was around for 3 years before finding it's mate, Fire on the Mountain. Around that time Weir and Barlow wrote two more of these pairings. These were a little different though, as they were designed as a pair right from the start. It wasn't an organic, 'find your soulmate' kind of process.

Lazy lightning> Supplication is very similar to China>Rider  in that the first song is kind of lilting and rollicking while the second packs a big hit of energy. Great to build that jam out of Lightning and peak the intensity dropping into Supplication. Wooosh!  Lazy Lightning>Supplication was a staple from 1976-1978. The final years with Kieth and Donna Goddchaux. Once Brent Mydland joined the band in 1979, instances of performance dropped dramatically until it left rotation in 1984. Supplication manages to hold on for a few more years. Dropped in 1987 with a one off bust out in 1993.

This section is called the random B. Why? Well these songs pairings have an A>B format. Every now and then, the Grateful Dead would sneak a random B tune in where it didn't belong. The set list for 1976 Grateful Dead shows are possibly the most volatile in their career. There is an overall pattern to 1976 set list but there are many wild curveballs. Tunes you'd never expect in the first set or second set, odd pairings or sequences, etc. So it's not surprising we have a random B in 1976.

09-24-76 William and Mary College. 
Playing in the Band>Supplication>Playing in the Band

Playing in the Band is a song that became one of the prime jam vehicles for the Grateful Dead, stretch at first into 20 plus minute jams in 1972 then going into the 30-40 minute range by the end of its reign of awesomeness. It typically ended a set one once it settled into place. After the 1975 it's set placement became tenuous and ended up in set 2 at times. Between 1976-1978 the structure of Grateful Dead set lists began to solidify. Shorter tunes in a variety of American styles in the first set (maybe a bit of a longer or more jammy tune towards the end of the first set) with the second set comprised of the larger jam vehicles. By 1978 drums>space became a defined part of set 2, usually at it's mid-point. at this point, Playing in the Band was firmly a set 2 song. Often starting a second set or in the pre-drums>space section.

At the William and Mary show we find Playing in it's pre-hiatus position at the end of the first set. Here though we have a classic 1976 twist: They segue into supplication then back into the Playing in the Band Reprise! First of all, the Playing jam is quite lovely, similar in the style to the later era set 2 Playing's with a more thematic jam without going fully type 2 (in the parlance of Phish-dom). They hint at the Playing reprise but let the riff dangle and dissipate a bit. all of a sudden a different and familiar riff comes chugging out from Bobby's way. Jerry picks up on it and starts to embellish. It still seems 2 minutes in to Supplication that they may still go back into Playing but by 2:45 they fully bust out the Supplication. Kieth's piano especially shines during the verse. Jerry plays what I'd generally consider his outro solo for Supplication and the band shift gears back into the Playing in the Band reprise with some really inventive playing, especially in the first few minutes of the reprise.

12-04-90 Oakland Coliseum Arena
Eyes of the World>Saint of Circumstance

Lost Sailor>Saint of Circumstance is another Weir/Barlow penned pairing that follows a somewhat similar trajectory to Lightning>Supplication. It's got a bit of a different style though with Lost Sailor being a bit dark and eerie before the big energy upswing of Saint of Circumstance. The pairing debuted in 1979 and was played the most in 1980, with 29 instances. After that, fewer and fewer performances until it was dropped after 1986. Saint of circumstance survived the cut though! This part B lived on long after it's A was cut, being played at least once every year for the rest of the Grateful Dead's career.  Similar to Let it Grow which endured  after the rest of the Weather Report Suite was dropped.

First off, I have a love affair with D5Scott and Da Weez. What is this nonsense? They were Grateful Dead tapers starting in the early 80's and sticking around to the end. Some of their tapes, especially from 83-84 are just incredible. Of a similar quality to Oade brother tapes but without as much known about them. I've been working my way through the remaining Post-Brent 1990 tapes (the first five are reviewed here), finding hot performances and stunning audience tapes. This tape though might be my favorite of this era. There's just something about the sound and balance that's so immersive.

 Eyes of the World starts the second set and showcases stunning playing from all, with great playing from both Vince Welnick and Bruce Hornsby on keys. Vince's harmonies sound especially nice on the Eyes chorus. At 8:30 the band hit a gorgeous peak fueled by Garcia and Hornsby. At this point the jam downshifts a bit, while the groove and drive stay at a constant, leading into the last verse. The drummers are both hitting hard and getting tribal at around 11:30. With about a minute left Jerry starts building tension and Phil picks up on it, joining in. Ok, it's not the cleanest segue but once they lock into Saint, the audience goes absolutely crazy and the band is cooking. Ok, so there's also some flubs with the composition but damnit the energy is there! It's hot. Interestingly, the >Saint of Circumstance is only played 4 times in 1990 and it's all Vince era shows. Instances of performance are at a record low in the final years of Brent's tenure and its busted back out more once Vince takes over.

Holly Bowling 09/16/18 Cohoes Music Hall
Mountains on the Moon>Saint of Circumstance

Around the time I was checking out these Dead shows I was lucky enough to catch Holly Bowling at the lovely (and allegedly haunted!) Cohoes Music Hall. Holly plays solo piano interpretations of Grateful Dead and Phish songs. It seems on paper like something you'd only really need to see once but each time I've gotten to see her perform, its been even more stunning, intense and captivating. She's an incredible musician and her ability to improvise has only gotten better with her filling the piano bench for the band Ghost Light. Interestingly she related at the show that Ghost Light's name came from a Tommy Hamilton trios show at the Cohoes Music Hall. Very cool part of Capital District music history.The Cohoes Music Hall is allegedly haunted by the ghost of Vaudeville performer Eva Tanguay. There's a little shrine where offerings are left for her backstage and the venue maintains the tradition of leaving a ghost light on stage.

Mountains on the Moon is an incredible choice for solo piano. The Garcia melody was haunting, ringing through the 19th century theater. Jeffry Bowling's mapped projections perfectly complimented the mood. Her playing goes from plaintive to more intense as she wanders out from the Mountains theme. Slowly the familiar opening progression of Saint of Circumstance emerges triumphantly. I never would've thought putting these tunes together would work but its a tremendous pairing! This is truly a random B! A song retired before 70 and one debuted in 1979!There was a hole in my life I didn't know I had that got filled with Mountains>Saint!!! The entirety of Mrs. Bowling's performance is stunning and well worth a reflective listen.

The Disco Biscuits 12/29/01, Roseland Ballroom: Guest post by Jay Cowit

With a fresh and stunning Rich Steele remaster of 12/29/01 recently released (download here!), Crepuscular Rays collaborator, brilliant musical mind and dear friend Jay Cowit was inspired to take a deep dive into his first outing with what would become one of his most enduring musical relationships.

I'd like to invite you to take this cosmic foray with Jay: 

The first song I ever saw the Disco Biscuits play was "Eulogy," a rootsy prog-rock continuity piece from one of their two rock operas. I thought 3 things:

         1) man, these dudes cannot sing.

         2) ok, they sound a little like phish/Moe./god street wine, so I can get down.

         3) holy shit. they're gonna jam everything huh?

But in the midst of those thoughts, I saw a crowd immediately hypnotized. Fascinated and open to an experience, I let the music of the evening wash over me, entrap me, feed me into something dark and strange. What came after Eulogy would stay with me for the rest of my life, and would become an intrinsic part of it. Friendships and lifelong memories born off those notes, cascading off the Roseland Ballroom years before it became a pit in the NYC ground. It was a true experience that shaped me. I've seen and loved the Disco Biscuits for 17 years, since that first song.

.....And ironically, I've never seen a "Eulogy" since.

 But that's the very point of this band, right?

"Eulogy," as a composition, starts slow and bluntly, not taking any chances. The song is a midway point in the Hot Air Balloon opera, a reflection point for its protagonist. Interestingly, the band repeatedly utilizes it at the start of shows, and while it’s rare to appear at all, its purpose as an introduction to the Disco Biscuits makes a lot of sense. Following its demure and winding opening, the song quickly moves into tight rhythmic bursts, back-dropping the soaring melody of Jon Gutwillig’s guitar. The structure, suddenly fugue like and alien, supports a reprise of the verse with rugged purpose, raising the volume and energy. Then, a dip into minor keys and slight quiet. What follows is the song’s greatest asset…a Technicolor glide through rustic landscapes as Gutwillig begins to jet-set around the fretboard, building a beautiful and steely conversation on top of the rhythmic power of Marc Brownstein, Aron Magner, and Sam Altman. Such power and speed, in the opener? It defies concert sense to the uninitiated. Even to jamband veterans, the speed at which the Disco Biscuits can reach heights is breathtaking. Altman, on drums, and Barber crash through forests, growing larger each measure. A peak guitar melody reprises at the end, perfectly enunciated by drums on the 16^th notes, and a slight return to the soft beginnings of the song. Not a note of electronic music has been played.

7 minutes in felt a lot longer.

“7-11” couldn’t be more different than the thoughtful Eulogy. Its big dumb hair metal/funk approach to a breakup song is probably as fun a track as the Biscuits have, and while it seems like a hastily arranged jigsaw puzzle of hooks and riffs, all of those hooks and riffs are catchy as hell. Its singsong chorus makes it easy to ignore how rough the vocals are, as the crowd helps a ton. The chorus is a metal rave up with “I’m gonna go out and jam” as the main refrain. For a 19 year old kid in the big city, at a jamband show…what could be better? The song moves to a robotic cluster bomb of “you can’t stop it” beats before instantly flexing to the traditional faux-reggae middle jam. In later years, the band would take this part out for rides, but in this version, it’s a tight run through high-school nightmare lyrics, followed by a brief respite to give room for a polka Magner piano solo. 

Back to the metal, and then to the first true jam of the evening. Part of the glory of “7-11” is how fast the jam becomes fast and fluid techno, in every year of its existence. It’s worth the wait of its sections to get there, and this is no exception. I had heard the band on tape, and heard their reputation, but this style of jamming was something I’d never experienced. I was still watching 4 dudes on stages (one wearing a hockey jersey), but suddenly they had become a robot techno machine. All frill had died instantly, the bass picked up a liquid-ish feel, and all lines started to wrap around each other. This was no 12-bar blues, no solo on top of chords. Every musician was contributing equally and all at once, but tastefully and…this is important…leaving tons of space. It’s what makes the jamming so amazing right away….it is focused like a laser, fast and complex…but the key is the dark silence in and among the four parts.

And the drums…god, those drums. Altman instantly played like no one I had ever witnessed. Perfect, unyielding, un-tempted by fills and turnarounds. It was revolutionary. It was ego-less. The whole band was jamming to a gestalt, working with each other, and as a unit. No one leads this improvisational section for 7 straight minutes. The crowd follows the energy, waving and wobbling with the speedy pace as the band quickens from techno to punk rage. It’s a ska fused soundscape of fierce eruptions as the band changes key at breakneck speed…maybe even getting faster.  Gutwillig comes to the front, but still repeating line after line, beautiful melody after beautiful melody…swirling all the while with Magner on synth. 

Altman pounds the beat into a full-on punk 1-step, as Gutwillig switches to power chords along with Brownie…suddenly the arrangement is filled with the epcot-synths of Magner, bringing in the conclusion of “Munchkin Invasion,” a frenetic race through a brief hyper-prog-rock section, followed instantly by a happy go lucky jam-rock refrain that talks about random names and…well, Munchkins.  It’s a furious ending to the jam, and completes the song started on a previous night of the run. We are only 20 minutes in.

“Spacebirdmatingcall” is an absolute classic. I’m not saying that lightly. It’s one of the best compositions ever written by humans, and is probably 20-40 years ahead of its time. It combines all of the best parts of this band, in a song that could be played by nobody else. Its studio version was an early part of me loving the band, but the live versions from 2001 are blazing sound and fury. This night was no exception. Opting out of complex segues (and leaving that for set II), the band feels satisfied exploring the confines of the song itself, spinning out of conformity while repeatedly bringing the jam back to base in creative ways. The song itself is played like a torpedo, lush and spiritual while speeding along Altman’s rock-trance hybrid beat (one that his successor never truly figured out, even as Allen Aucoin played numerous killer “SBMC’s.”) The jam is centered around the same ideals as “7-11,” which is 4 rhythm parts playing in unison within the confines of a roughly electronic beat. The fact that the beat is focused on the kick drum played on all four beats lends a slight notion that this is house or trance, but really the music is jazzier and the lines around it springy. The forward playing of Gutwillig and Brownie propel the beat even as Altman keeps it simple and tough; the frontloading of grace notes at the tail end of a phrase give the beat a forward propulsion, even when Sammy isn’t playing four on the floor (~7:30 on the recording). Brownie and Gutwillig perfected this over the years, but none more than in 2001, where their work pays off even in the fastest of jams, which all still groove and pulse. Altman eventually becomes the lead player in the jam, spiking the playing with hard snare and open high hat work. Eventually Brownie comes back around to the bass line, and the band is in full rock epic mode…this is where the song is truly built for greatness…after a jam of techno-ish music that is danceable and smart, the song suddenly becomes a stadium rock closer….Gutwillig’s utterly insane but gorgeous composed lead line is distinctly him, his style and genius painted on the octave skipping taps of his playing. To the uninitiated, it seems like a random melody…until he repeats it note for note. A dip back into the verse/chorus before another glorious run through the lead melody ends the song, a journey within a single composition.

At this point, it’s clear the band will jam everything they play, and furiously rage most of the endings. To a rookie…this is starting to become a gift from heaven.

The second half of Set I is probably what truly made me a believer, at least from my memory of the moment. You learn a lot about a band you don’t know through their covers, and while it’s never the sticking point for me, sometimes it REALLY helps the process. We’ll get to that in a second. First, “The Very Moon” is a beautiful song, with a sweet intro that again takes as much from Genesis and Yes as Phish. The intro is a built in breathing point in any set, and certainly the 3 minutes it spends climbing the ladder to the song itself is certainly appreciated. The breakneck verse and chorus structure reveal smitten lyrics, part of the same rock opera as “Eulogy.” The jam begins over a blissfully quiet and quick set of major chords, but effectively wrapping the beat in 10, which is musically impressive and clever but even more amazing when you get lost in the jam and realizing it feels like the most familiar groove you’ve ever felt. This comes up later in the “House Dog Party Favor,” but it’s a true gift of the band: grooving odd time signatures like they’re nothing. It’s part of why they feel like techno in these sections even when they’re not playing anything close to it. “Moon” rides on in intensity, and then literally on Altman’s ride cymbals, speeding back up to the persistent 2001 style…Brownie and Barber hit on the return to theme seamlessly and easily, Magner picking up on piano with them. It’s a fortunate turn but one they hit so often in those years. 

No let up, no drop…the band screams across the finish line of the first jam, before the composed entrance to the “slow” dirty funk of the song’s second section. Altman is in take-no-prisoner mode, so the funk speeds a long. Gutwillig picks and pokes with a teasing line, as Brownie gradually slaps his way to the pocket. Magner is slow to join, but the moment gives a true sense of the Marc/Jon combo…feeding off each other in shards and strikes, constructing the complex matrix over Altman’s simplistic 2-step. It’s a tribal style, like Security-era Peter Gabriel. It’s not techno at all, but it grooves so hard that it plays as such. At around 17 minutes into the song, the band again deftly changes key mid-jam, a seamless maneuver that most bands could never pull off with such grace and secrecy. No let up, no drop…Altman begins to use the toms to build a wall of low end as the other three weave their way around the changes occurring. The band has returned to the hybrid rock beat and leaps in bounds over a single D chord progression, driving upwards and out. The pace quickens, while Gutwillig reaps a repeated soulful line, ridiculous and perfect among the clashy chaos. The line strays and saunters, while Magner fills up the void with mid-tone synths, 

Brownie moves to a major key progression, and Altman opens the hats…the sound builds, and builds…the movement of all four members in lock step as a furious flood of emotion and notes comes to bear…higher and higher, while Gutwillig moves to a fierce descending line…the bass fills the entire world….Altman attacks his snare….one final dragon piercing note from Jon…..and there it is:

“RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN”

“Run Like Hell” is a Disco Biscuits song. At least the way they play it. It has a strong resemblance to an old Pink Floyd song from The Wall, for sure. But a song can have many spiritual owners, and one of them for “Run Like Hell” is Bisco. The fire and intensity of first seeing the band slam into the power chords and verse that make up the front part of the song will never be forgotten. I’ve never seen so many raised fists…the crowd was like a dancing army. The band could’ve asked them to go to war for them. I’d have loved to see it. A screaming frenzy of noise and energy gives way to the first jam (The Disco Biscuits usually improvise sections between the verses, and after the keyboard solo, before ending the song or jamming into something else), a short silky foray into psychedelic trance, utilizing some odd Magner synths to punctuate the dark vap trail of the electronic beats. The pace builds quick again tho…not much time left to experiment, although the then rookie author of this piece couldn’t believe the band in front of him was going to play another set after this. After all, they must’ve blown a hole in the earth, right? Crashed the stock market?  All of this thinking is bypassed as they again slam into the power chords of the second verse, raising all the fists again. The second jam starts dirty, with Gutwillig laying into distorted delay spikes while Magner does double duty, spinning a sweep pad single note among a clav-like backbone. This jam is more funky than anything so far, and darker. Brownie keeps the bass line lean and weird…and then with the ease of a veteran magician, calmly welcomes the crowd back to NYC and says hi, nearly 75 minutes into the set.:)  Having rushed slightly in jam 1 to get here…the band relaxes and starts deploying singular bursts of melodic treats, using the evil sounding robot progression to wind up the energy and tension. Altman is simplistic as ever, but forceful on the kick…the giant ball of sound keeps moving, even as the other members stay slow and deliberate. Remarkably, it’s Magner who pivots the synched unit to a more major feel, grabbing the middle of the whole, and setting up Gutwillig to fly again on top of the bazooka fire that is the rush of the ending. The pace never dampens, the energy never fades again. There is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide…no let up, no drop. The snare punctures the air while the suddenly gigantic guitar lead locks in, deftly smashing what’s left of civilization as the world crumbles.  Magner switches to organ, filling up the room like a choir of ecstasy fueled angels…the punk drums return, the bass swells….higher and higher…..

…And the power chords of the “Run Like Hell” ending crush Roseland Ballroom into a singularity.

-This was followed by an intermission.-

Set II begins in earnest with the most rock song of rock songs that the Disco Biscuits possess…the ZZ Top infused “M.E.M.P.H.I.S.” An ode to a southern road trip and a canine companion, this “M.E.M.P.H.I.S.” starts innocently enough, cruising the verses and chorus into a hip hop style beat  where Gutwillig lays low, Brownie sits on a malevolent single note phrase, and Magner runs ghost-like cues across the spectrum. The jam goes to dissonance before Brownie begins a bluesy take, gently nudging Barber to do the same. Magner continues the apparitions, until Altman’s steady beat drops to a single high hat rhythm, before breathlessly hitting back into the groove. The licks give way to a star-trekian synth lead, squaring deep in the spinal cord until Barber tags in to deliver a boisterous and cascading solo….the fury of swirling notes from all three melody players is a foreshadow of the chaos to come, but it provides it own epic scene here at the tail end of the jam.  A snare roll up fakes an ending, Barber now unloading all over the space provided…a second snare count up now, 4 lengthy measures long and leading to the triumphant return of the verse. “M.E.M.P.H.I.S.” is one of the songs in the catalogue that generally contains a second jam, moving into another song entirely…as is the case here. Often the feel reprises the first jam to a certain degree…but this jam entrance dissolves quickly, leading to spring-loaded Magner hits quietly tip toeing around a diminutive beat. Altman doesn’t wait long, though…he returns to his battle with the snare drum, punching out coordination for the unit, before dipping again. Spacey keyboard fills the atmosphere, with the bass nearly ambient. 

The high hat remains, tapping ever so slightly...constant but alive. Hopping. Hopping. Hopping.

A snare fill from Altman attempts to start the next song, but the other three continue the hopping. Up and down major scales, arpeggios of skill and grace. Ambient funk quiet as a mouse, but still holding down a groove that could make a statue sway. Hopping. Hopping.

The jam unfastens itself. Layers of composition enter one by one. A single guitar quarter note repeated. Then a wave of synth chords. A rimshot beat that continues to hop. “Crickets” manifests as if from a smoke filled dream. The band takes its time before descending into the single refrain, lamenting the hard end of our insect friends in the dark of the evening. The jam of a “Crickets” is a singular event in a life…no other music on earth is quite like it. It’s form is so simplistic yet nuanced beyond belief. It’s a happy hardcore techno beat, but that doesn’t nearly describe the complexity of the music above it. The jazzy layering of the guitar spliced with elevating synth notes, all rides above a fast motioning bass line. Brownie holds this jam more than any other, keeping pace with the flurry of his drummer, while providing the bedrock that his guitarist and keyboard to waterdance on.  His envelope filter turns his notes into balloons of imagination, propelling a rolling mechanism of physics and commotion. Magner and Barber are playing a billion notes in every direction, exploding out the sides of the giant avalanche machine….Brownie holds the fort like a laser blasting tank. His playing is beyond genre and description, providing a giant crater of deep end while his band mates blister the higher registers. At 5:45 into the recording, Gutwillig falls into a beautiful mid-range complimentary line to Brownie….a calm soldier seeing about the fray. The pace is faster, the drums take on a speed metal feel that doesn’t surrender. The guitar is a beautiful frozen moment in time…it erases to shared dissonance with Magner but returns as Brownie comes back to the planet on the root note. 

The phrase is echoed in everything Barber plays….and at the moment of utter insanity and next to the point of falling apart…the band miraculously changes key…holds for a moment…and then breaks into the major key finale of “Shelby Rose.”  Altman never breaks the pace, thrashing through the ending as Gutwillig hits the lead perfectly, and the band sings through the final chorus, before inverting the song and starting from it’s beginning immediately after. The moment happens so quick, but it’s huge and powerful and undeniable. This particular merging of the two songs is a seminal moment in the band’s history…it shows many veterans and rookies alike another impossible musical event that is now possible. It’s beyond a thorough understanding of what kind of practice or rehearsal or experience leads to a 5 minute moment like that…but undoubtedly there’s some luck and magic involved. And a lot of sweat from the band.

“Shelby Rose’s” speedy run-through is still a breather, saving us a raspy Brownie’s otherwise soulful crooning, and moving back to the modified jungle beat that is the staple of Shelby’s over the history of the band. Magner tries to calm things down by laying on Rhodes chords, while Brownie whittles a thoughtful line in the back. The beginning is liquid cool water, gradually lead by a slow Magner synth pad that slyly brings the jam from “Shelby” back into “Crickets,” although only the brilliant tracking of the recording might tell you that. It’s so smooth, even though you realize all at once that the jungle has perfectly morphed into fast ska-trance, and the major keys barely give away the ghost. This is the most gradual jam of the night, patience winning out until Altman begins the drum ascent back into a beat that is happy hardcore mixed with ska…but faster than either genre has ever produced. It transcends electronic music in every sense…no computer-made music could have this life and vitality, but more tangibly, the speed and morphing ability. The tempo is brilliantly absurd…and relies on inhuman snare work by Altman to drive the point home and keep it all from escaping down the side of the mountain. The cymbals balance the drive, the organ fills the gaps…and Gutwillig whips through a fierce matrix of notes over the top, each phrase hitting the energy higher. At the right moment, the lead line of the jam appears, adroitly nailed and putting an exclamation point on an exhibit of beauty, speed, and sadness the likes of which music hadn’t seen.

 “Crickets’” second jam, a funk extrapolation played at the thematic high speed of the evening, features some of the ghost noises Magner used at the start of the “M.E.M.P.H.I.S.” second jam, and a cocky Gutwillig riff takes hold of the groove and runs with it. Brownie would spend most of 2002 playing some incredible slap sections on his instrument…this jam was a good predecessor. It pumps the whole room, up through his dropout with Altman, which showcases the weird jazzy circus music of Magner and Gutwillig. The beat and purpose pick up from there, flirting in and out of the bass riff that cues the end of the jam. The band seems to be marching towards an end…but a second (absolutely brilliant) dropout sequence morphs the band into a psych rock moment, rotating the band further from home. The dissonance spreads into a slashing run towards home, using a rock beat to further the goalposts until again, Brownie hits the familiar notes….but wait….NOT DONE! A snare roll keeps a note sustained in the air, Gutwillig switching to a wah part while Magner uses the synth waves of the intro to construct one more jump from reality. At the end of this short burst, the bassline takes over, and the band moves, ever so gradually, into the final transition to the vocal refrain. To his credit, Brownie tries several times to jump back out…it is wonderfully clever. A slow, drippy take of the chorus ends the sequence, which hard stops to a moment of reflective silence, surrounded by a massive audience cheer.

The remainder of the set is indicative of the 2001 mindset: as a contrast to its 2.0 later years where full segue shows were the norm, early Disco Biscuits actually preferred playing a number of standalone songs per show. There’s an obvious confidence in being able to explore outside the realms of the composition even within a standalone format. “House Dog Party Favor,” thankfully, fits this mold perfectly. Effectively three huge sections in one song, the composition begins with the 6/8  hyper-space bar mitzvah crooning of a man institutionalized, dealing with the realities of his bondage. The song sways breezily through its composed classical mockups, interspersing the nonchalant “oh yeahs” with fugue like stops and stutters. The second section truly begins with a jaunt into 5/4, plugging a very quick proggy ELP like section before a drawn out jam in the rugged time signature. As with the first set’s “Moon” jam, the precision with which Altman and Brownie play in the odd time is mind-blowing. There is perceptible and skilled groove within the harder jamming circumstances, and the band shifts dynamically in a brilliant fashion. Altman’s consistency while playing small is a real commodity here, allowing Magner and Gutwillig to float on the surface of the water for extended periods of times to harness hooks and licks. Brownie  channels Phil Lesh in bouncing around the fretboard, keeping the 5/4 in place when Altman jazzes up his own take for a few moments. The band accrues bursts of energy as they start to move through the swinging jam…Gutwillig takes a moment to find a bearing, but eventually grabs on to the mountain and begins to not just climb, but jump. He leads into the main lick, as the band begins a pretentious but heartfelt counting sequence that’s usually a wonderful indicator of how trashed the band was/is, or how sharp they are that night....They nail it, for what it’s worth.

The verse and chorus that follow start to show signs of fatigue, but the end of the tale brings the third and most ferocious chapter of HDPF…the waltz. A marching cryptic techno bedrocks a 6/8 or ¾ jam that feels as electronic as anything that night…other than most electronic isn’t in 6/8. Magner lets loose here, summoning synth banshees that overload the synapses before falling back in line. Altman deftly switches from a techno beat to more of a rock…in some ways, it’s a harken to Rush. Gutwillig is barely noticeable until you realize he’s providing an entire middle landscape moving the opposite direction of Magner and Brownie…it’s a beautiful psychedelic ant-farm. Brownie controls the operation, always the threat of his returning to the gigantic and terrifying and familiar and perfect bass riff of “House Dog.” He threads this tension out, stamping on the buried remains singed by his melody players. Altman does not discard this energy, powering through the noise and fury of the night and holding steady. Magner jumps over the top, peaking his synth line early and often, pushing Gutwillig towards a final solo. The bass line returns, glorious and like home. Gutwillig doesn’t yield, pumping out his loudest notes of the nights to stand on top of the sound…until he slides his final note down back to the riff of the song, played hard and mean, while the band sings the final refrain.

The encore is more than quaint. This was a great lesson to learn, also…most bands don’t encore with two distinct 10 minute jams. In fact, pretty much no one does. Except the Disco Biscuits.

“Little Lai” is rickety but fun, with the nod to the streets of New York City right outside. This version is played at a slightly slower tick than most of the show, although you can almost tell Altman wants to move quicker. The jam is a fun return to the hip hop style that would go on to dominate 2002. Altman’s beat is the most interesting candidate here, with the rest of the band playing sly support crew. It does still speak to the ego-less playing that characterizes their more dance-able playing…nobody is stepping on each other, they’re working in tandem. This tribal fusion continues for a while, providing perhaps the show’s most sustained funk moment. The jam stammers for a bit, trying to catch some lightning…Gutwillig provides with a nifty riff, although the song generally stays within the fence. Altman grows his presence, but stays on tempo and on track. Brownie plays some truly interesting phrases before heading back to the ascending bass riff that ends “Lai.” 

Perhaps it’s the slightly anti-climatic take on the old reliable Brownie standard that leads the band to fire up the burner one more time for another Marc chestnut, the warhorse “Bernstein and Chasnof,” although the quick count off points towards it being the original plan. “B&C” runs through its  jamband mocking lawyer nonsense raveup to get to some interesting and weird techno spots spliced into its composition. The bridge especially gets weird and danceable from the get-go, featuring some moog-like synth lines that couldn’t be sexier. The jam features an extended tease by Magner (of something I don’t recognize) that he began toying with in the “Lai” jam, which is picked up on by Brownie and Gutwillig. Altman keeps it straight, double kicking every so often to push the groove. The band is at its most evil circus at this point, splaying a lazy major key haunting over an increasingly threatening bass line. Psy-trance swirling in the air, the rhythm section hammers the floor while Magner swirls around the peripheral. Again, Gutwillig appears from nowhere while all the while commanding the middle of the spectrum. As the beat picks up the snare and grows in a controlled chaos, Brownie corners the pocket, laying down a throaty black web of bass. Gutwillig picks up on his movements, and then Magner…at the 8:00 mark, all three are in complete lockstep, composing the healthiest of hooks on the fly, in the midst of utter madness and rage. The mode shifts to major and the power infuses to the whole band. The whole band, at the end of their journey, stays with the plan. Tired, spent…they push on! The speed actually picks up, and the bassline returns to well worn territory. Gutwillig explodes in one final burst of thunder, shredding the top of the frets in a waterfall like effect, against Magner’s organ and piano. The lead line pierces the night in a speed-rush landslide, followed by the 6/8 coda that sees the fist pumps of the crowd in full display one last time. 

There are no spoken words after the show. No announcements…just a slide whistle somewhere in the random night. The band leaves the stage, heading to Philly to play 2 more shows over 2 nights.

“nothing, no splash, no flash and no sound

all that is left is my feet on the ground

Now I remember that life was a ball

When I was the person in search of it all

There's one in a million I'd be here today

There's one in a million that I get to stay

And if I ask my maker to see me through

When it seems there's nothing more that I can do”

The echoes of the amplifiers rang in Roseland, years before it ceased to exist. 17 years later, I still remember a lot of it. And like I said…it’s a part of me now.