Grateful Dead—Municipal Arena, Long Beach, CA, December 15, 1972
The final stand-alone Grateful Dead performance of 1972 was held at the old Long Beach Municipal Arena. The facility opened in 1962 and soon became a local hotspot for sporting events, trade shows, and concerts. In the early 70s, the arena hosted a handful of Los Angeles Sharks AHL hockey games, regular appearances of the LA Thunderbirds roller derby team, and a pair of Elvis Presley shows with his original TCB lineup that featured James Burton (lead guitar), Jerry Scheff (bass), John Wilkinson (rhythm guitar), Larry Muhoberac (keyboards) and Ron Tutt (drums). Tutt, of course, would eventually go on to play and record with Jerry in the Garcia Band and Legion of Mary, as well as play drums on three of Jerry’s studio efforts: Compliments (1974); Reflections (1976); and Cats Under the Stars (1978).
This Long Beach show is aces from top to bottom and reveals a band playing with the same ragged intensity they brought to the fall tour. The first set is typical ’72 fare, including a country-tinged Sugaree, a smoking Tennessee Jed with a passionate outro lead by Jerry, a slow and heartfelt Candyman, some Weir-led cowboy numbers, and a whopping Playing in the Band. The crowning jewel of the ninety-minute first set, though, is the Playing in the Band which rivals many of the more renowned versions from the era. To begin with, Keith is loud in the mix and this is one of those rare Playing in the Bands that begins with a prominent piano drone. The jam is ominous and heavy with Jerry hanging in the background, releasing guitar licks from behind the fray. The result is a relentless, menacing feeling, fueled by Garcia’s inspired, tortured licks arising spontaneously from the soundscape to a point where it seems he is musically fighting the rest of the group. To make matters all the more compelling, Lesh maintains a consistent open-ended structure that appears to be facilitating the same rambunctious spirit that has possessed the lead guitarist. The outcome is a Playing in the Band on par with the big November outings—pedal to the metal, with distinct, unique themes and staggering ensemble jamming.
The back half of the performance opens with a scathing Greatest Story Ever Told. A few numbers later, they head into an extended He’s Gone that’s nearly identical in structure and intensity to the version they rolled out four nights earlier at Winterland. Next up, we arrive at the big jam suite of set two. An energized Truckin’ is followed by a long open-ended jam; everyone contributes, confidently racing ahead like they've played this passage countless times, unfolding every possibility within the theme. Jerry and Keith work together, with the piano hovering around a single muted note. The rest of the musicians latch onto this new mode which transforms effortlessly, with a subtle push by Garcia, into the Dark Star jam. After Jerry sings the first verse, the band returns to the feedback space they previously explored. The mood is dark, with a quiet foreboding vibe before Jerry takes a solo—over waves of feedback—ushering the group into a new sonic territory awash in discordant crashes, harmonic plucks and volume swells. Garcia continues to push the music forward, looking for a moment to insert the Tiger jam and take the group to the edge of the abyss. Not tonight. Instead, he settles for a quiet, ruminative space before hinting at the opening notes of Morning Dew. The others follow the return to melody, and the transition to Morning Dew is remarkable.
The last Dark Star of 1972 is a subtle, yet highly captivating ride. When you factor in the 14-minute jam sequence that proceeds the Dark Star proper, it is surely one of the more distinctive passages of the year. Former Vault keeper and Dead historian Dick Latvala was quite fond of the 12/15 Dark Star, due to the unique and inventive style of playing that bookends the verses of the song and the complexity of melodies and phrasings that arise throughout the piece. Like Dick, I’m smitten by this Star and it is a version I recommend to those who like their Grateful Dead dynamics continually hedging toward complicacy—softly played, pretty musical sections that alternate with crescendoing noise and waves of measured feedback.
However you slice it, the musicianship this December evening in Long Beach is top-notch. At times it borders on transcendent. It’s another great example of how the Dead could make magic on any night in 1972. At this point in the band’s career, they could do no wrong when traversing any improvisational jam. Have a taste, I promise you’ll return for a second helping.