Sunday, May 17, 2009

Music Monday: First and Last Post About The Dead

Reader, this has been a bit of an odd weekend but Professional Critic is rolling with it. Best to bend when the strange winds blow.

Last Thursday I went to my very first Dead show. If you care about such things, you can download the show here. I learned some important things about Dead shows, so if you have never been to one and think you never will, now you'll know.

It's all about the people watching. Especially on the lawn section.
Still not liking their music but now appreciate their talent.
Understanding that songs don't have to be five minutes long when they can be thirty seven (see below).
Importance of extended jamming.
White guys going fucking nuts with spasmodic dancing during said jamming.
Most of the audience is white people.
Awesome smelly dirty hippies dancing/spinning/running through the crowd making meaningful hand gestures.
Don't worry if you didn't bring your own weed.
Tie-dyed fifty-somethings driving Volvo SUVs.
Kids and babies getting their groove on.
Earth mamas selling veggie burritos out of VW buses.
Girls wearing many layers of skirts. One really isn't enough.
Hand crafted bongs and a variety of baked goods being hawked in the parking lot.

And for a taste, here's I Know You, Rider:

Drums with the fire ladies, who I've since learned are Kalalea Fire. I like it around minute six. That girl is teh hotness.

Reader, after this experience I was positive the Dead were going to show up in Stuff White People Like but it appears not. Instead, see entries for Bob Marley and apropos of nothing but very funny, sea salt. This blog always makes me laugh.

Moving on. The Farmer's Market yielded many beautiful flores which moved me evermore than the veggies this time.

Some of the hottest pink Gerbera daisies I have ever seen:

Freesia filling the room with their Fruit Loop-y smell:

Gus pondering whether there might not be a better living arrangement out there for him. One where the service isn't so slow, the food variety better, a more constant stream of adoration:

It's hard out there for a ball-less housecat.

1 comment:

jdub said...

I've never been to see the Dead, but I went to see Ratdog, Bob Weir's side project. Same kind of thing. There was an oddly attractive, yet skanky and smelly woman with dreads who was doing the trance dance but the club was so crowded that it was essentially a lap dance for my buddy who was standing right in back of her. I'm fairly certain he could have arranged for a happy ending with little effort since she was so stoned.

That said, the music was a little tighter since most of the jams only lasted about 10 minutes.