11,215 Free Grateful Dead Concert Recordings in the Internet Archive

Image via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

Even res­olute non-Dead­heads have been pass­ing around “Dead­head,” Nick Paum­garten’s recent New York­er piece on “the vast record­ed lega­cy of the Grate­ful Dead.” Like much of the most inter­est­ing mag­a­zine jour­nal­ism, the arti­cle digs deep into and pro­vides a primer on a sub­cul­ture that goes deep. Casu­al Dead lis­ten­ers know there exists a large and ded­i­cat­ed body of fer­vent­ly un-casu­al Dead lis­ten­ers, the fans who may have fol­lowed the band around on its tour­ing days but now col­lect every last one of its record­ed per­for­mances, offi­cial, unof­fi­cial, or oth­er­wise. “It was denser, fever­ish, oth­er­world­ly,” Paum­garten describes his first expe­ri­ence hear­ing a Dead boot­leg. “If you took an inter­est, you’d copy a few tapes, lis­ten to those over and over, until they began to make sense, and then copy some more. Before long, you might have a scat­ter­shot col­lec­tion, with a cou­ple of tapes from each year. It was all Grate­ful Dead, but because of the vari­abil­i­ty in son­ic fideli­ty, and because the band had been at it for twen­ty years, there were many dif­fer­ent fla­vors and moods. Even the com­pro­mised sound qual­i­ty became a per­verse part of the appeal. Each tape seemed to have its own par­tic­u­lar note of decay, like the taste of the barn­yard in a wine or a cheese.”

Do you aspire to join those Paum­garten calls “the tape­heads, the geeks, the throngs of worka­day Phil Schaaps, who approach the band’s body of work with the inten­si­ty and the atten­tion to detail that one might bring to bird­ing, base­ball, or the Tal­mud”? If so, the inter­net, and specif­i­cal­ly the Inter­net Archive’s Grate­ful Dead col­lec­tion, has cranked the bar­ri­er to entry way down. Its 11,215 free Grate­ful Dead record­ings should keep you busy for some time. “You can browse the record­ings by year, so if you click on, say, 1973 you will see links to two hun­dred and nine­ty-four record­ings, begin­ning with four ver­sions of a Feb­ru­ary 9th con­cert at Stan­ford and end­ing with sev­er­al ver­sions of Decem­ber 19th in Tam­pa,” writes Paum­garten. “Most users mere­ly stream the music; it’s a hun­dred cas­sette trays, in the Cloud.” If you need a break from these con­certs, in all their vari­able-fideli­ty glo­ry, lis­ten to Paum­garten talk mat­ters Dead with music crit­ic Sasha Frere-Jones on the New York­er Out Loud pod­cast (lis­ten here). And if you find the Dead not quite to your taste — gui­tarist Jer­ry Gar­cia famous­ly com­pared their ded­i­cat­ed niche audi­ence to “peo­ple who like licorice” — why not move on to the Fugazi archive?

Relat­ed con­tent:

Bob Dylan and The Grate­ful Dead Rehearse Togeth­er in Sum­mer 1987. Lis­ten to 74 Tracks.

NASA & Grate­ful Dead Drum­mer Mick­ey Hart Record Cos­mic Sounds of the Uni­verse on New Album

UC San­ta Cruz Opens a Deadhead’s Delight: The Grate­ful Dead Archive is Now Online

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Alice’s Restaurant Illustrated: A Thanksgiving Counterculture Classic

Alice’s Restau­rant. It’s now a Thanks­giv­ing clas­sic, and some­thing of a tra­di­tion around here. Record­ed in 1967, the 18+ minute coun­ter­cul­ture song recounts Arlo Guthrie’s real encounter with the law, start­ing on Thanks­giv­ing Day 1965. And it builds steadi­ly into a satir­i­cal protest against the Viet­nam War draft. We have fea­tured Guthrie’s clas­sic dur­ing past years. But, for this Thanks­giv­ing, we give you the illus­trat­ed ver­sion. Hap­py Thanks­giv­ing to all who will cel­e­brate today.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Bed Peace Revis­its John Lennon & Yoko Ono’s Famous Anti-Viet­nam War Protest

Willie Nel­son, Pete Seeger, and Arlo Guthrie at Occu­py Wall Street

The Alan Lomax Sound Archive Now Online: Fea­tures 17,000 Record­ings

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Mashup Duet: Miles Davis Improvising on LCD Soundsystem

It’s cute. It’s clever. Just two Youtube videos in sync. Noth­ing more. Enjoy. h/t Boing­Bo­ing

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

‘The Sound of Miles Davis’: Clas­sic 1959 Per­for­mance with John Coltrane

1959: The Year that Changed Jazz

John Coltrane Plays Only Live Per­for­mance of A Love Supreme

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Brian Eno Once Composed Music for Windows 95; Now He Lets You Create Music with an iPad App

Now run­ning through my speak­ers, even as I write this: Bri­an Eno’s lat­est album, Lux. The disc offers four pieces of ambi­ent music, a style that, even if Eno did­n’t tech­ni­cal­ly invent it, he cer­tain­ly took it to a new lev­el of fas­ci­na­tion and pop­u­lar­i­ty. He com­posed these tracks — if “com­posed” is indeed the word — as gen­er­a­tive music, a process rather than a style, but one he named and has pro­mot­ed since the nineties. For a def­i­n­i­tion of gen­er­a­tive music, I turn to Eno’s A Year with Swollen Appen­dices, a book that does not leave my night­stand. “One of my long-term inter­ests has been the inven­tion of ‘machines’ and ‘sys­tems,’ ” he writes, “to make music with mate­ri­als and process­es I spec­i­fied, but in com­bi­na­tions and inter­ac­tions I did not. My first released piece of this kind was Dis­creet Music (1975), in which two sim­ple melod­ic cycles of dif­fer­ent dura­tions sep­a­rate­ly repeat and are allowed to over­lay each oth­er arbi­trar­i­ly.”

In Lux, we have the lat­est iter­a­tion of that musi­cal mod­el. But even if this new record or its pre­de­ces­sors won’t make your playlist, there’s at least one Bri­an Eno com­po­si­tion with which you’ll already feel inti­mate­ly famil­iar. I refer, of course, to the Win­dows 95 start­up sound. Eno describes the musi­cal chal­lenge as fol­lows: “The thing from the agency said,‘We want a piece of music that is inspir­ing, uni­ver­sal, blah- blah, da-da-da, opti­mistic, futur­is­tic, sen­ti­men­tal, emo­tion­al,’ this whole list of adjec­tives, and then at the bot­tom it said ‘and it must be three and one quar­ter sec­onds long.’ ”

From that list of 150 vague words, Eno craft­ed 84 minia­ture pieces of music. You may have heard the one Microsoft ulti­mate­ly went with hun­dreds, or thou­sands, of times. Obvi­ous­ly they’ve sound­ed the same on every play, and this very fact dis­pleas­es their cre­ator, espe­cial­ly when he cre­ates with gen­er­a­tive sys­tems in the first place. “What I always want­ed to do was sell the sys­tem itself, so that a lis­ten­er would know that the music was always unique,” Eno con­tin­ues in A Year. “With com­put­er tech­nol­o­gy I began to think there might be a way of doing it.” Com­put­er tech­nol­o­gy, which has come a long way since the days of Win­dows 95, has brought us to the release of Scape, the first gen­er­a­tive music iPad app ($5.99) from Eno and Peter Chil­vers. “The idea is that you assem­ble pieces of music out of son­ic build­ing blocks — we call them ‘ele­ments’ — which then respond intel­li­gent­ly to each oth­er,” Eno says in the intro­duc­to­ry video just above. Scape fol­lows Bloom and Trope, the duo’s pre­vi­ous gen­er­a­tive music apps for the iPhone. Does it strike you as strange that the man behind such an icon­ic Microsoft theme now releas­es apps only for Apple devices? It’s no big sur­prise: Eno even com­posed the Win­dows 95 sound on a Mac.

Relat­ed con­tent:

How David Byrne and Bri­an Eno Make Music Togeth­er: A Short Doc­u­men­tary

Bri­an Eno on Cre­at­ing Music and Art As Imag­i­nary Land­scapes (1989)

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

The Rolling Stones at 50: Mick, Keith, Charlie & Ronnie Revisit Their Favorite Songs


The Rolling Stones are cel­e­brat­ing their 50th anniver­sary this year, and like every­thing with the Stones, they’re doing it big. The band has sched­uled a series of five spe­cial con­certs on both sides of the Atlantic, begin­ning next Sun­day in Lon­don and con­tin­u­ing in Newark, New Jer­sey, and Brook­lyn, New York, in Decem­ber.

And like every­thing with the Stones, it’s expen­sive. Tick­ets for the Lon­don shows, for exam­ple, range in price from about $150 to $1,500, which has prompt­ed more than a few com­plaints. The band has defend­ed the prices, say­ing that they’re doing a large-scale show with only five audi­ences to cov­er the pro­duc­tion costs. “We’ve already spent a mil­lion on rehears­ing in Paris,” gui­tarist Ron­nie Wood told The Tele­graph recent­ly. “And the stage is going to be anoth­er few mil­lion. And the lights. We feel no bad thing about tick­et prices. We’ve got to make some­thing.”

The rock ’n’ roll busi­ness­men also expect to make some­thing from a pay-per-view broad­cast of the sold-out Decem­ber 15 show in Newark, along with sales of a new illus­trat­ed auto­bi­og­ra­phy called The Rolling Stones: 50 and a ret­ro­spec­tive album called GRRR!, which comes in sev­er­al edi­tions rang­ing from the three-disc basic CD ver­sion to a five-disc vinyl boxed set. While pro­mot­ing the album, all four mem­bers of the Stones agreed to be inter­viewed by Melis­sa Block of the NPR pro­gram All Things Con­sid­ered. Block asked each of the Stones to pick one song from their exten­sive cat­a­log to dis­cuss. It’s an inter­est­ing series of con­ver­sa­tions, and you can hear each one by fol­low­ing these links:

Along with the expect­ed clas­sics, GRRR! includes two new songs, includ­ing the first sin­gle released by the Stones in six years, “Doom and Gloom.” (See the video below.) It’s a blus­tery tune, lack­ing the rhyth­mic sophis­ti­ca­tion and inven­tive­ness of the band’s ear­li­er work, but it amply demon­strates that even after 50 years, the Stones still know how to rock.

Relat­ed con­tent:

The Rolling Stones Jam With Their Idol, Mud­dy Waters, 1981

The Rolling Stones Sing Jin­gle for Rice Krispies Com­mer­cial, 1964

The Rolling Stones Sing the Bea­t­les’ ‘Eight Days a Week’ in a Hotel Room, 1965

The Best Music to Write By, Part II: Your Favorites Brought Together in a Special Playlist

Last Fri­day, we raised the top­ic of writ­ing to music, and we asked all of you out there what music you write to, if you write to music at all. The num­ber and vari­ety of your sug­ges­tions was a lit­tle over­whelm­ing, and very wel­come, and pro­vid­ed a wealth of rec­om­men­da­tions to put togeth­er into a playlist. There was quite a lot of agree­ment among you and a near-con­sen­sus on instru­men­tal music over vocal. But it also came as no sur­prise that Open Cul­ture read­ers’ tastes span a range of gen­res, cul­tures, and peri­ods and that every­one who wrote in seemed to raise the bar a lit­tle high­er for drop-dead gor­geous, med­i­ta­tive com­po­si­tions.

Out of all of your rec­om­men­da­tions, I have made a selec­tion of six­teen artists that I believe is rep­re­sen­ta­tive. (Apolo­gies if your sug­ges­tions didn’t make the cut—there’s bound to be some bias here). What­ev­er your pos­ture and pref­er­ence for vol­ume lev­els, light­ing arrange­ments, or time of day or night, you might try on each of these while you tap away at your lat­est piece of work. Who knows? You could strike a new rhythm, hit an unfa­mil­iar groove and shake out of a too-famil­iar rut, or shift the tem­po just so, change per­spec­tive, tem­per an unruly mood….

Or maybe just find some cool new music to dig while you cook din­ner.

Last week’s post began with Miles Davis’s In a Silent Way, which I believe inspired some jazz lovers to com­ment. Komiska sug­gest­ed the top-notch Mod­ern Jazz Quartet’s ren­di­tion of “Lone­ly Woman” (above).

Bill Evans’ name also came up quite a bit in your sug­ges­tions. Below is his “You Must Believe in Spring.”

Min­i­mal­ist com­pos­er Steve Reich, and oth­er con­tem­po­raries of his like Philip Glass, got many a men­tion. Below is a live per­for­mance of the first two sec­tions of Reich’s Music for 18 Musi­cians.

Ambi­ent syn­the­siz­er music by the likes of the Scot­tish duo Boards of Cana­da, Tan­ger­ine Dream, for­mer Cocteau Twin Robin Guthrie, and Bri­an Eno came up quite a bit as well. Com­menter Emma Gray Munthe men­tioned the work of less famous but very influ­en­tial elec­tron­ic com­pos­er Jean Michel Jarre. Lis­ten to his ground­break­ing album Equinoxe below:

A few of you point­ed out that any kind of music serves to dis­tract from your process. Cheeky Michael West said as much and more how­ev­er with his lacon­ic ref­er­ence to John Cage’s 4’33″, the ulti­mate min­i­mal­ist com­po­si­tion. Below, lis­ten to (or observe, rather) an orches­tral inter­pre­ta­tion of Cage’s con­cept:

(more…)

The Best Music to Write By: Give Us Your Recommendations

Writ­ing is hard. It’s hard to begin, hard to con­tin­ue, hard to fin­ish. To write suc­cess­ful­ly and con­sis­tent­ly requires an alchem­i­cal com­bi­na­tion of dis­ci­pline and inspi­ra­tion so per­son­al that read­ing advice on the sub­ject amounts to watch­ing some­one else die to learn how it’s done. And while it often feels enlight­en­ing to read about the habits of, say, Stein­beck or Austen, their meth­ods are non-trans­fer­able. You’ve got to find your own way. So it is with writ­ing to music. It’s always there in the back­ground, goad­ing you on qui­et­ly. Not every­one writes to music; not every­one can. But a good many do, includ­ing Wired con­trib­u­tor Steve Sil­ber­man who calls the prac­tice one of many rit­u­als writ­ers use “to evoke that elu­sive flow of inspi­ra­tion.”

Sil­ber­man just wrote a piece for Neu­roTribes in which he sur­veyed ten authors on their favorite music to write by. One of Silberman’s own choic­es, Miles Davis’s In a Silent Way (above), is one I’m steal­ing. With its bril­liant assem­blage of musi­cians and haunt­ing mood­i­ness it sets the per­fect tone for my process. Also, there’s no singing. Like Sil­ber­man, I can’t com­pete with a wise, wit­ty lyri­cist (he men­tions Elvis Costel­lo, I pre­fer Mor­ris­sey). In Sil­ber­man’s piece, John Schwartz, a New York Times reporter, lis­tens to noth­ing. Jane Hirschfield, a chan­cel­lor of the Acad­e­my of Amer­i­can Poets, likes David Byrne, Dylan’s Mod­ern Times, and Gillians Welch’s The Har­row and the Har­vest. Wired con­tribut­ing edi­tor David Wol­man makes a playlist of most­ly indie-pop songs enti­tled “Write the Book!” His main cri­te­ri­on for the songs he choos­es: DO NOT BE BORING! My default writ­ing music is exem­pli­fied by Aus­tralian three-piece instru­men­tal rock band Dirty Three (below).

So now it’s your turn, read­ers. Do you write to music? If so, what is it? What artists/composers/albums help you find your rhythm and why? Can you stand lyrics in the music you write by or no? Leave your selec­tions in the com­ments. On Mon­day, we’ll com­pile them in an arti­cle and leave you with a great Open Cul­ture playlist. Whether you find some­thing you can steal or not, it should be a fun exer­cise.

*See our fol­low-up post with a list of your favorites here

Josh Jones is a doc­tor­al can­di­date in Eng­lish at Ford­ham Uni­ver­si­ty and a co-founder and for­mer man­ag­ing edi­tor of Guer­ni­ca / A Mag­a­zine of Arts and Pol­i­tics.

‘The Needle and the Damage Done’: Neil Young Plays on The Johnny Cash Show, 1971

Here’s a scene from a clas­sic episode of The John­ny Cash Show, with Neil Young singing a deeply per­son­al song that he had only recent­ly writ­ten.

“John­ny Cash on Cam­pus” was a spe­cial edi­tion that aired on Feb­ru­ary 17, 1971.  Cash and his crew vis­it­ed Van­der­bilt Uni­ver­si­ty in Nashville to talk with stu­dents. In the pro­gram, one of them rais­es the sub­ject of drugs in the music indus­try, and Cash speaks briefly about his own prob­lem with drugs before intro­duc­ing Young, who sings “The Nee­dle and the Dam­age Done” in front of an all-stu­dent audi­ence at the Ryman Audi­to­ri­um. Young then puts down his gui­tar and moves to a piano to play “Jour­ney Through the Past.”

It was a busy time for Young. While he was in Nashville to appear on the show he was per­suad­ed by a local record pro­duc­er to record his next album there. He began work almost imme­di­ate­ly on what would become his mas­ter­piece, Har­vest. On the night of the John­ny Cash Show Young invit­ed two oth­er guests that night, Lin­da Ron­stadt and James Tay­lor, to go back to the stu­dio with him after­ward. Togeth­er the three sang the back­ing vocals on “Heart of Gold” and “Old Man,” and Tay­lor played the dis­tinc­tive ban­jo gui­tar part on “Old Man.”

The Feb­ru­ary 17, 1971 episode of The John­ny Cash Show is also notable for being the first time Cash per­formed “Man in Black.” He got the idea for the song from his dis­cus­sions with the stu­dents at Van­der­bilt, and fin­ished writ­ing the lyrics on the day of the show. The song was so new he need­ed cue cards to sing the words.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Neil Young Busk­ing in Glas­gow, 1976: The Sto­ry Behind the Footage

Neil Young Reveals the New Killer Gad­get That Will Save Music

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