Grateful Dead—The Ark, Boston, MA, April 21-23, 1969
Spring, 1969. The Dead roll into the Northeast like a house on fire. After a sterling gig at Clark University with Roland Kirk, they head to Boston for a 3-night run at the city's newest rock venue, The Ark. The band had not played Boston since a late December performance at The Psychedelic Supermarket in 1967, and all three April shows at the new Lansdowne Street venue are superb. Someday, we may even get an official box set of the brief residency, but I’m not holding my breath.
Of the trio of Ark dates, the third night is where I put my money; the energy is high, and you can tell that the band is really onto something and knows it. The tape opens with an achingly beautiful He Was a Friend of Mine. The short-lived ’69 staple presents Garcia in fine vocal form, delivering as delicate and sensitive a performance of the Mark Spoelstra tune you’ll ever hear. After this, someone requests Morning Dew. “No,” says Garcia to general laughter. The mystery requester responds inaudibly. An amused Garcia: “Fuck you.” Phil: “You gotta stick around to hear Morning Dew.” Jerry: “Yeah, ’til morning. Ha, ha, ha.” And with that, the boys launch into 45 minutes of continuous music beginning with a spacious Dark Star with thematic diversions, the standard Sputnik jam, and clouds of abstract weirdness. The Dark Star drops nicely into a brief St. Stephen > It’s a Sin > St. Stephen section, that serves as a perfect bridge to the sequence-ending That’s it for the Other One > Sittin’ on Top of the World. The first frame concludes with a well-jammed Turn On Your Lovelight, chock-full of vintage Pigpen rap.
The second set, beginning with the aforementioned and disputed Morning Dew, is rock solid, and packed with inspired playing. Just listen to Jerry's guitar licks on Hard to Handle, or the way the entire sequence—starting with the McKernan-led Alligator—flows so effortlessly, as if it couldn't be played any other way. Alligator is all fire with a rare mid-jam segue into an extended 17-minute take on The Eleven. Garcia and Lesh push the music forward and the post-verse jam is outstanding, before a measured deconstruction into Caution. The bedlem continues with peaks, swells, some McKernan half-time dialogue, a healthy portion of feedback, and a glorious We Bid You Goodnight because it’s just what’s needed. The drummers tease Not Fade Away, but the band goes with It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue for the encore, with Garcia leaning passionately into the vocals.
The Boston Globe’s Bud Collins, later an award-winning sportswriter, wrote in his review that the band “…was loud enough to melt the ears.” Collins also vividly recalled that “… Ron ‘Pigpen’ McKernan, the Dead’s hard-living organist, fell off the stage during Turn on Your Love Light. His bandmates didn’t seem surprised and kept playing while a roadie dusted the ‘Pen off before he crawled up to finish the song. I fell in love with the group’s fortitude right there.” Another fun story I stumbled onto while researching this run, relates to the guy who introduced the band each night. Word is on the first night he had no idea about the Grateful Dead: "These are some guys from the West Coast..." By the last night, they were "The best fucking rock and roll band in the whole world." I don’t know about that, but this performance is surely one of the best live concerts of 1969. And I’ll bet my fucking life on it.
These set lists are kinda wild, I really dig them. Hadn't heard this run before to be honest.