May 19, 1966: Avalon Ballroom

     Listen to this show.

The Grateful Dead played thirty-odd shows at the Avalon Ballroom from 1966 to 1969—this was the first of those shows. Of course, in this age, the Dead were not yet doing expansive jams that went on for the better part of thirty minutes, twenty minutes, or even ten minutes. This first Avalon show only contains two songs that etch past the five minute mark, even, but more on that later. At this point, the Dead were moreso like any other standard psychedelic group with a foot in the blues—they were certainly tight, and they could improvise live to an extent, but these were characterists that were quickly emerging from the San Francisco area, seen in a group like Jefferson Airplane who had debuted the same year as the Grateful Dead. As a result, going into 1966 shows will give you a very different image of the Dead: originals are scant (and held in low regard by the Grateful Dead themselves), covers take up most of the show, and nearly every song is played at a brisk pace, courtesy of the relentless playing of Bill Kretuzmann. If you don't have the time investment for a lengthy two-hour show, perhaps the 66-minute runtime of this recording will seem less intimidating.

    There are a few things that I think make 5/19/66 a particularly good show for showcasing the early days of the Dead, with the first being the show's quality. This show is one of many early Grateful Dead shows taped by Owsley "Bear" Stanley, the first sound engineer the group ever. While his mixing work isn't exactly mindbending, he is the reason why we have so many high-quality recordings of the Grateful Dead during the first half of 1966 before the group became fed up with his sound system, which led to both parties going their separate ways for a while. Likewise, the second half of 1966 is considerably more scant when it comes to live recordings. Then, there's the setlist, which captures plenty of early Grateful Dead originals, many of which would be quickly abandoned by the end of 1966: "Standing on the Corner," "Mindbender," "You Don't Have to Ask," "Tatsebud," and "Cream Puff War" all find their way onto this tape, all works penned wholly by the likes of Jerry Garcia, Bob Weir, or Pigpen: no Robert Hunter or John Barlow lyrics to be found with these works. Only "Cream Puff War" would end up on a studio album, and even then, Garcia went on to consider it a terrible song. The covers from this show reveal a different story, however: the first ever known performance of "It Hurts Me Too," a lighting fast "Good Lovin'," and versions of "Viola Lee Blues," "Cold Rain and Snow," and "New Minglewood Blues," amongst others. All of those songs would also end up on the group's 1967 debut album, and they're in proper form here.

    The third element of this show that makes it such a worthy introduction to their early days is the quality of the performances. The show itself is not particularly great, nor is it bad. It is an average show, and in that sense it's very representative of their early days. The covers are the real winner during this show, with special praise for a particularly strong "Viola Lee Blues" that dares to tread beyond the five-minute mark with efficiency. Weir's energy on "New Minglewood Blues" is palpable, even as his voice falters on the higher notes, and "Cold Rain and Snow" may be the moment where everything comes together on this set to form something worthwhile. Well, that and the previously mentioned "Viola Lee," but I digress. The show's weaknesses, on the other hand, are in the original compositions. Well, some: Jerry's "Standing on the Corner" is a sort of proto-punk number with clever enough lyrics that comes off well, and Pigpen's "Tastebud" is a nice bluesy diversion, but the rest of the homegrown songs leave something to be desired. This is where I have to agree with Garcia, as even with a fierce performance, "Cream Puff War" doesn't excel beyond its mediocrity. More interesting is "You Don't Have to Ask," a fine pop song with a decent performance on this tape. Calling the tune bad is an exaggeration, but it doesn't leave very much to the imagination, either.

    That is not particularly insightful, and I don't really think it's fair to hold the Dead to these songs either: any band's first batch of original material isn't guaranteed to yield. This show does, regrettably, exclude the one original composition from this time that did manage to maintain some staying power: "Caution (Do Not Stop on Tracks)," a relentless blues jam not that served both as a hulking vehicle for Pigpen to play bluesman, but also a song that allowed the Dead to truly become explorative in their playing. Unfortunately, this is a song that wouldn't become standard for the Grateful Dead for another year, which leaves us with a handful of smaller originals to dive into. Even with underwhelming cuts abound, there is something special about the Dead's first appearance at the Avalon, and in time the venue would bare witness to plenty more exciting shows from the group. It just so happens that this one makes for an especially interesting listen.

Show Rating: ★★★☆☆

Thank you for reading, and I bid you goodnight.