Thomp’s First Show With the Dead & Co

“What is your relationship with The Grateful Dead?”

As BDMC founder and sandal enthusiast Elliott Obermaier asked me this question, I realized that my answer was complicated. Up until about a year ago, that relationship was non-existent. I listened to a few live albums, but never experienced the enlightenment that would bring me into the pseudo-religious community of Deadheads who seem to view the band as more sacred than life itself. I was impressed with everything I heard, but still remained baffled that people continued to follow the band around the country, especially nearly 30 years after the death of Jerry Garcia.

The light starts shining on me:

As fall began to roll around, I decided it was time to give the Dead another shot. It’s no secret that BDMC has a ton of love for the band, and I was tired of feeling like I was missing the “point” of such a monumental band. I asked members of the club to recommend a few of their favorite live albums/songs and found my footing in the Dead’s famous show in Cornell University’s Barton Hall on May 8, 1977 (Hot take, I know). Walking home from campus after a remarkably grueling day of classes, I felt my anxiety fade into tranquility as “Deal” played through my headphones. The live show began to accompany me wherever I went, whether that was a walk to class, a drive back home, or a sit at my desk. Even though I wasn’t a fanatical Deadhead, the band quickly became one of my most frequented artists on Spotify, and when my partner surprised me with tickets to see the Dead & Company at Deer Creek for my birthday, I knew I was in for something incredible.

Blues/Funk/Rock director Ahnay Hering and I slaying the day away.

Shakedown Street: Still the Heart of Town

After about eight months of anticipation, June 27th had finally arrived. Knowing that getting out of the parking lot at a Dead show would be a nightmare, I parked about a mile away in the lot of a strip mall called McAlisters. Initially I routed our path on our phone, but quickly realized that a trail of tie-dye T-shirts would work just as well. When we reached the venue, we knew that we had a stop to make before finding our space on the lawn: Shakedown Street. I had heard countless stories of this hippie Mecca, and it did not disappoint. The area held thousands of fans, miles of vendors, and more balloons than the movie Up. Looking into the booths, it was clear that a lot of the people I saw had been following Dead & Co around for weeks, a significant amount of them pushing on even with no ticket for the night’s show. As I briefly mentioned earlier, Deadheads seem to find a spiritual component in The Grateful Dead that other artists simply cannot reproduce. While the music is spectacular, the community formed on the group’s tours is a factor of equal or greater importance to the most dedicated fans.

Listen to the Music Play:

Getting into the venue was a little hectic. It’s no secret that Grateful Dead fans can get a little spooky and scary after too many Shakedown Streets. 28 years ago, unruly fans destroyed the fences I stood by as I waited in line for admission, getting the show planned for the following night canceled and robbing my father of his last chance to see Jerry Garcia play with the band before his death a month later. As fans began pushing through barriers at the front of the line, I could see the frustration growing amongst event staff, and a small part of me feared I too would be robbed of my last chance to see the Dead perform.

Luckily, we made it into the lawn, managed to find a spot, and within 20 minutes, the Dead began their first set. I enjoyed the first set, but felt once again like I was missing something. “Bertha”, “Mississippi Half-Step”, and “Big River” into “Darkstar” were exceptional highlights from this set, but I didn’t feel that the experience was as transformative as I thought it would be after hearing friends and family talk about seeing Dead & Co. 

Fare Thee Well:

Whatever my goofy little monkey brain thought the first set was missing, the second set delivered in full. John Mayer’s beautiful guitar solo in “Sugaree” captivated the entire audience, and I knew the concert would be one of the most memorable I may ever see. I was ecstatic to hear the opening riff to “China Cat Sunflower”, which I had been hoping to hear for weeks before the concert. After a few more songs, I ran into my Dad on the lawn, and he summed up my entire evening with two sentences: “This is really special. I’m really glad you got to be here to see this.” 

As “Uncle John’s Band” began to play, I reflected on an incredible evening spent with friends I’d met through a musical community of my own. Not only did BDMC bring me to The Grateful Dead, It also brought me all of the people I’d spent the evening with and the sense of community that the Dead provides to so many of its fans. It was this insight that made the true appeal of The Grateful Dead finally click in my brain. Just like members of our club, Deadheads come for the music and stay for the community. A year ago, I wouldn’t have thought twice about missing this show, but I left Deer Creek last Tuesday feeling profoundly lucky to have been able to witness the display of music’s power to connect people. 

Although my name isn’t Rider, I know I’m going to miss Dead & Co now that they’re gone.