Getting on the Bus: Welcome
I first heard the Grateful Dead sometime in my sophomore year of high school: it was Anthem of the Sun, admittedly a very strange choice. The Grateful Dead are a group whose specialty was in live performance, and I chose a studio album to start my journey. I thought it was good, and dare I say I was even intrigued by what I was hearing, which lead me to hearing more records: Aoxomoxoa, Workingman's Dead, American Beauty, and the fantastic Live/Dead record. Those latter three certainly had my attention, but I had yet to properly get on the bus. I saw the Dead as a good studio group and a very good live group, but I did not yet hear anything that blew me away.
The second time I heard the Grateful Dead, it was my first year of University. This time, I picked up Europe '72, and in one fell swoop, everything clicked. A blend of Americana, jazz, rock, psychedelia, and country, so foreign and yet so exciting all at once. Even with my knowledge of the spontaneous excitement of Live/Dead, nothing could match the first time I heard Europe '72—the peppy, immediate action of "Cumberland Blues," the wide smile that appeared on my face during "China Cat Sunflower" into "I Know You Rider," the way I played "Ramble On Rose" twenty or so times after finishing the album, the way that I wept during "Morning Dew." It was, without a doubt in my mind, the greatest live rock record I had ever heard. And I had to hear more.
It would be some time before I heard more, which is why I say that I really hopped on the bus in September of 2024, during my second year of University. This was when I quickly got on the pattern of hearing a show a day, quickly moving through their entire studio catalog, and talking about the group non-stop. I'm sure my roommate at the time was only a little bit annoyed that, whenever we'd check out for the night and play a game, I would very quickly put on Two From the Vault or Blues for Allah. I gained an ever-growing respect for the likes of Robert Hunter, John Barlow, Bob Weir, Pigpen, and of course Jerry Garcia, and I distinctly remember being at my dad's house on the day of Phil Lesh's death, crying into my hands as "Box of Rain" played through my headphones.
I don't know the most about the Grateful Dead, nor have I heard the most shows—I've only recently heard my 100th show, a poultry number when compared to the over 500 shows accounted for in Dick Latvala's blue binders. The fact that I was born nearly a decade after the Grateful Dead had split leaves me both in a time of unprecedented access and of limited access at the same time. My access to shows is immediate and unlimited, but there are no shows I can attend myself, and any accounts of shows are limited to second-hand recounts from forms, comments, and Discord servers. Nevertheless, my love for this group persists, and so does my slightly obsessive effort to hear as much as I can.
That, my friends, is where this blog comes in. For the foreseeable future, I will post thoughts on shows, setlists, albums, and the like on this here page. Of course, this is not solely a place for me to yell my thoughts into the digital void—whoever you are, wherever you are, and however you are, your thoughts on the Dead are welcome. I hope that this blog won't just be a place for the most dedicated of Deadheads to talk and share thoughts, but that newcomers to the Grateful Dead will find some worthwhile information and thoughts here, too. With all that being said, take a look around! It's pretty empty right now, but I'm sure in due time, we'll have plenty of posts and stories cataloged all over the place.
And I bid you goodnight,
-λ
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