Apparently in 1986, my live show expectations were distorted and defined by the Grateful Dead. As a result, I was under the impression that any band with a prolific and varied songbook from the 60s and 70s would inevitably perform a different set for each concert. After all, why wouldn’t they? It must get boring playing the same show every night. Not so for Neil Young. These two shows were absolutely identical down to the last riff (with the addition of “Road of Plenty” in Columbus, which I can’t say was much of a bonus).
Beyond the head-scratching middle part of the set which included a foray into the vocoder experiments from the much-maligned Trans, I don’t remember any particulars from either of these concerts. However, what I do recall is my disappointment in Neil Young on the second night. Every moment that had seemed so singular and unique in Chicago turned out to just be a rehearsed part of his act. What a rube I was to think it would be any other way.
Obviously, it would be unfair to blame Mr. Young for the repetition and I would eventually get over it in the same way a kid can still enjoy Christmas even when he knows Santa Claus is a just a fat man in a suit. I would go on to see Neil Young™ two or three more times over the years, the last being in 2003 when he was touring “Greendale” – and for that hackneyed atrocity, it is okay to blame Neil, but I will save that unfortunate recollection for another time …
The Setlist: 1.Mr. Soul 2.Cinnamon Girl 3.When You Dance I Can Really Love 4.Touch The Night 5.Down By The River 6.Heart Of Gold 7.Inca Queen 8.After The Gold Rush 9.Too Lonely 10.Opera Star 11.Road Of Plenty (for Buckeyes only)12.Cortez The Killer 13.Sample And Hold 14.Computer Age 15.Violent Side 16.Mideast Vacation 17.Long Walk Home 18.The Needle And The Damage Done 19.Hippie Dream 20.Powderfinger 21.Like A Hurricane 22.Hey Hey, My My (Into The Black) 23.Prisoners Of Rock ‘n’ Roll
The video is ‘Like a Hurricane” from “Rust Never Sleeps” (1978 tour). Sadly, I don’t believe we were witness to a reprise of the Star Wars re-enactment.
Song of the Day – Dan Mangan – Robots
she's a robot ... and she will rip your heart out as soon as look at you
I’m going through a stockpile of CDs I picked up over the last few months, but haven’t gotten a chance to process and Dan Mangan’s Nice, Nice, Very Nice (three free downloads here) thankfully rose to the top of the stack this rainy morning. I’m a sucker for orchestral pop and this offering fits the bill. As an added attraction, I’ve been watching Battlestar Galactica, so I have robots on the brain and despite being cheered by Mangan’s optimistic robot vision, from what I understand, taking his advice and loving a robot could be the last thing you ever do. While the robots may indeed be willing to love you back – for a while – what they really want to do is kill you.
Song of the Day: Badfinger – Suitcase
Oh sure, it’s easy to say that Badfinger aped the Beatles, who signed them to Apple Records and oversaw the production of their first four albums. While crafting some of the most essential pop tunes of the early 70s, sadly, Badfinger never quite got out from under the Beatles’ shadow. While Apple broke them (perhaps in more ways than one), their manager ripped them off – leading directly to the suicide of Pete Ham, the soul of the band, in 1974. Watching this live clip of “Suitcase” from 1972, Badfinger strikes me as a band that never quite found it’s own voice; they jam in an extended way they never did in the studio. Yes, the were a great power pop band – maybe the power pop band of the 70s – but if this performance is any indication, really they just wanted to boogie.
Thanks to Bedazzled, where I found this. That place is a treasure trove.
Here’s the studio version:
The Stub Project: Grateful Dead with Bob Dylan – Anaheim 7.26.1987 and CSN – Red Rocks – 7.27.1987
I lived in Boulder during the summer of 1987 in a house full of Dead Heads, so catching the Dead show on Sunday in Anaheim and driving back to Colorado for a Crosby Stills & Nash show the next day at Red Rocks was no big deal. 1000 miles each way? No problem. So on Friday afternoon we packed up my Grand Wagoneer and drove through the night to Anaheim. We arrived in Venice early Saturday afternoon, hung out on the beach, ate tacos and hosed ourselves off in the public shower. After getting lost a few times, we eventually made it to Anaheim, where we spent the night in a parking lot. Devotees of Kerouac, Hunter Thompson and The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, we were living the dream, even if it was twenty years later and we were eating the crumbs of the generation that came before us.
The band broke into Aiko Aiko while we were coming into the stadium, causing a stampede, a situation sadly common at Dead shows during this era and for a few moments I was quite sure that we were about to die … But, thankfully, we were pushed to a perfect spot in the outfield right in front of a speaker (albeit far away from the band). And there we danced for the next five hours, not once moving from a ten foot radius. The Dead played two sets, then backed Dylan. The entire spectacle was pure bliss. It was a hot, sun-soaked California afternoon and I was in complete sync with the music. Each note cascaded through my body, each lyric written just for me. Having emerged from the near death experience, I was in love with the world in a way I had never imagined possible. Later I would be shocked to hear how back-breakingly terrible the Dylan and the Dead album that resulted from that tour was … Yes, it seems, you had to be there.
Here’s The Dead playing Aiko-Aiko, while my friends and I were almost being crushed to death.
Read more…
The Honey Badger Don’t Care About Acetone (but you should)
It has been well-documented that the honey badger don’t care. This makes the honey badger a bad-ass in some eyes, but such practiced indifference is ultimately self-defeating (see Franco, James). While occasionally a mark of genius, not caring is generally the low ground inhabited by the losers of the world. The honey badger may kill you, but really he is just killing himself. Look at the honey badger: he’s eating trash … and it’s hard to put a good spin on that.
The honey badger especially don’t care about Acetone. The honey badger probably drinks acetone to cleanse his palate after gnawing on a cobra. This blatant disregard for one of the greatest bands to come out of the 1990s is the honey badger’s loss. Acetone’s slow countrified neo-psychedelic cosmic gaze may have fallen under the radar, but it gently brightened all it touched. After coming out with the excellent York Blvd., bassist and lead singer Richie Lee died of an apparent suicide. While the honey badger does not care if he is stung in the face, my failure to fully appreciate Acetone when I lived in in their LA neighborhood, still stings. It stings a lot.
Acetone – I Don’t Really Care MP3
To read more about Acetone, check out the Lonesome Beehive post on Richie Lee here.
lonesomebeehive 
