By most fan standards, I’m a bit of a Grateful Dead lightweight. I own no bootlegs, and precious few live albums beyond the canonical early ones – “Live Dead”, “Europe ‘72” and so on. Consequently, two things: one, if anyone has recommendations for me from the “Dick’s Picks”/”One From The Vault”/"Road Trips" catalogue, I’d be very grateful (thanks again for everyone’s help navigating a path through Fleetwood Mac, by the way). And two, “Rocking The Cradle: Egypt 1978” is, I think, my first encounter with live Dead from that period – I reckon the latest show I have is that excellent one from “Cow Palace ‘76”. So forgive me if I can’t quite tell how this one measures up against other contemporary shows.
When Klaus Dinger died a few months ago, I mentioned in an obit here that I had an unpublished interview with Dinger and Michael Rother, from when they briefly reunited to promote the Neu! reissues in 2000.
As someone who has spent a good decade lavishing praise on/making excuses for Julian Cope’s music while so many of his old fans have wandered off in dismay at another Brain Donor CD, I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised at being one of the very few people who enjoyed his show at Latitude last month. I blogged about this captivating spectacle at length over here, so won’t go into it all again now.
Twenty minutes before they come on, the crowd’s excitement becomes increasingly palpable, an audible hum, an impatient restlessness swarming through the massed ranks of Drive-By Truckers die-hards pressed hard against the front of the stage and spreading quite contagiously through the serried ranks of the people craning their necks for a better view on the outer perimeter of an impressive turn-out, even thought here’s nothing yet to see, apart from a few scurrying roadies, bumping into things in the dark.
Welcome to Waitsville. A place where bad jokes are good, Vaudeville never died, and the talk is of smoking monkeys, weasels and the mating habits of the preying mantis.
