A while back I posted some listening
notes from the Jim Cooper audience tape of the Jerry Garcia Band (JGB) show at
Colden Auditorium, Queens College, Queens, NY on Thursday, October 30, 1975.
When called to summarize the show in a headline for my etree list, which is a date index for the
site, I said "a pretty good night for Nicky Hopkins." And I do
think that this is a strong performance by Nicky Hopkins and the whole JGB.
Everyone plays well, every song is played well, and some of this, such as
"Catfish John" and "Edward" is outstanding, top-shelf
stuff. If you wonder what Garcia had in mind in bringing the especially
troubled Nicky Hopkins on board as a business partner (Garcia-Kahn-Tutt-Hopkins
dba "Jerry Garcia Band") in
fall 1975, check out the show-opening "Let It Rock" from this night, a
revelation, channeling melody and time, spirit moving bone. Garcia had never
played with a guy like this on piano.
I mean no disrespect to Keith Godchaux in saying
this. Keith was a piano maestro in his own right. Garcia on
Godchaux (5/12/80, Rowland 1980):
Keith is one of those guys who is sort of an idiot savant of the piano. He’s an excellent pianist, but he didn’t really have a concept of music, of how the piano fit in with the rest of the band. We were constantly playing records for him and so forth, but that wasn’t his gift. His gift was the keyboard, the piano itself.
I am willing to accept Garcia's judgment and framing around
this - what the hell do I know? It's a very interesting way of expressing a
pianist's strengths and limitations, in any case: the fingers and the keys were
as one. The piano provides some beautiful terrain for the realization and
display (and thence, third-party appreciation) of human possibility. Listen to
Keith's playing in October-November 1971, when he first started with the
Grateful Dead, and be witness to instinctive brilliance. He's like a
trail-runner, meticulously picking spots while running downhill full-bore with
nary a tweak of the ankle. Mistake-free at full speed. If you read fast, or you
type fast, or if you speak fluently, or knit or darn or dream - unconscious
fluency --what pschologist Mihály Csíkszentmihályi calls "flow"-- is a joy to experience and behold.
But, Hopkins! Instinct and musicality, melody and
percussion, note and time … This is human
accomplishment, between terra firmaand cosmos.Nicky's playing, at its best, orchestrates my mind. It's agile and powerful and instinctive, totally
terrestrial, mathematically precise and impossibly, celestially, colorful. In this show, as
in Nicky's whole tenure, there are flashes of all of that.
Now, any empirical scientist will tell you that triangulation
is good (for me, the locus classicus
is Campbell and Fisk 1959, but there are probably others, and earlier). So
after listening to the Cooper tape I decided to check the show out from another
point of view, an audience recording by Gerry Moskal (shnid-92780). This particular tape has
some banter that the Cooper aud lacks, and it reveals a little of the rabbit's-eye
view of my little Tuscan idyll, a good close look at the creepy, crawly
underbelly of the natural condition, and a sense of the yin-yang
co-constitution of the dark and the light.
After a sprightly version of "Catfish John", Nicky
talks to the Queens audience.
·
Nicky Hopkins: "How you all doin', a'right?
Hold on a minute? One of the things I would like to say is that outside, when I
was in the bathroom, just before we went on, I heard some glass smashing
against one of the outside doors, because the place has been booked solid for
quite awhile. So there are about twenty people outside …
o
[interrupted
by crowd members yelling stuff]
·
... hold on a minute, please, shut up please ...
and I mean that politely."
o
70s Queens
dude, very near taper: "You shut up!"
·
Nicky: "There are about twenty people
waiting to get in."
o
Crowd guy,
possibly same: "Let 'em in!" [other
hollering from crowd]
·
Nicky continues "Now wait a minute, please,
we'll save time, and we'll get more numbers done that way. In particular, a
blond-headed guy was throwing bottles or glasses or whatever at the door ...
and then, I just blew it. Because of that. Because ... I had a weird trip that
went down, many years ago ... I had a pet cat that chewed on some broken glass
that some *bastard* had smashed."
o
[the crowd
is laughing at Nicky. And I swear in here someone hiccups very close to the
mic. It might be snickering.] [crowd dude yells something at Nicky]
·
"And every time I hear glass smashed, that
really just triggers me off. I mean, normally I'm pretty cool, man."
o
[This
comes off as desperate, and audience bully guy smells weakness. Guys in crowd
are laughing at him. More hollering.]
·
"I mean, let me ask you ... hold on ...
please ... just a few seconds silence, before we continue ..."
o
Crowd guy,
real loud: "What is this, church?" The crowd is cat-calling Nicky,
mocking him, shouting him down, while he begs for silence.
·
"Hold on. Hold on! [sounding like a frustrated
parent] Please? Quiet ..."
o
Crowd is
just mocking him, viciously.
·
Sounds like Nicky says "OK" or
"Oh fine" ... [something inaudible off-mic] Nicky: "Listen. To
continue ... before we continue ... bloody hell ... fuck it!"
o
Garcia is
strumming "the center cannot hold" chords, smirking a little bit behind
his beard, but hopefully not cruelly.
o
Crowd guy,
laughing: "We gotcha! So that's your attitude, huh?!?" Crowd just
taunting poor Nicky.
And the recording cuts out.
Julian Dawson's excellent 2011 biography talks about how
Nicky's personality was just about perfectly ill-suited to spotlight stardom, and
his painfully awkward emcee'ing and crowd engagements through his short three
months in the Garcia Band illustrate the point in spades. If I ever stop
polishing (or pushing) the rock of my 10/17/75 notes, I'll present more
evidence and analysis.
In the meantime, what do you do if you are a brilliant pianist who has just
had a painful, awkward, embarrassing moment? You play.
"Pig's Boogie" is a great song choice. Yeah, Nicky, you are cool, baby! Fuck yeah you are. If you've ever heard "Gimme Shelter", and you'd better have, Queens guy, you need to STFU. This is Nicky fucking Hopkins, Edward, the Session Man. So, hell yeah, take a feature, tear it up! Jerry's solo in the mid-1 minute mark is real upbeat, too. He knows that was just a weird moment, and he knows, or by this time it's perfectly clear to him, that no good comes from talking too much. Just play. And they do. Around the 4-minute mark, vocal crowd dude correctly identifies and calls out "Pipeline!" Yeah, dude, you are right, there is a little Pipeline break in Pig's Boogie. @ 4:30 John Kahn takes some bass lead that is very rare to hear this late in the game, another descending run for him late 4-minute mark, over 5. He puts a little skip in it, now climbing back up, hits a local bottom at 5:18, Jerry starts picking it up behind him, 5:30 Nicky sharp glissade, now barrel-rolling over the six-minute mark. Jerry is tearing it up to 6:30, now with some double-time chords, calling a too-quick end to it at 6:40, but everyone catches it, and they land clean at 7:00. Wow. Totally different context of hearing it after the "bloody hell" encounter. One last great Nicky fuck you here: "Pig", of course, was his cat, though not, I think, the one who died from the glass. What a great private joke for Nicky and the band. And I think it comes out in the spirited performance. Way to go, Nicky. And by the time he has scalped the room with "Edward" to finish the set, he has the crowd at his fingertips, so to speak, right there where there's control, and comfort, and brilliance. Even as they pose their own challenges, flesh and bone don't talk back.
"Pig's Boogie" is a great song choice. Yeah, Nicky, you are cool, baby! Fuck yeah you are. If you've ever heard "Gimme Shelter", and you'd better have, Queens guy, you need to STFU. This is Nicky fucking Hopkins, Edward, the Session Man. So, hell yeah, take a feature, tear it up! Jerry's solo in the mid-1 minute mark is real upbeat, too. He knows that was just a weird moment, and he knows, or by this time it's perfectly clear to him, that no good comes from talking too much. Just play. And they do. Around the 4-minute mark, vocal crowd dude correctly identifies and calls out "Pipeline!" Yeah, dude, you are right, there is a little Pipeline break in Pig's Boogie. @ 4:30 John Kahn takes some bass lead that is very rare to hear this late in the game, another descending run for him late 4-minute mark, over 5. He puts a little skip in it, now climbing back up, hits a local bottom at 5:18, Jerry starts picking it up behind him, 5:30 Nicky sharp glissade, now barrel-rolling over the six-minute mark. Jerry is tearing it up to 6:30, now with some double-time chords, calling a too-quick end to it at 6:40, but everyone catches it, and they land clean at 7:00. Wow. Totally different context of hearing it after the "bloody hell" encounter. One last great Nicky fuck you here: "Pig", of course, was his cat, though not, I think, the one who died from the glass. What a great private joke for Nicky and the band. And I think it comes out in the spirited performance. Way to go, Nicky. And by the time he has scalped the room with "Edward" to finish the set, he has the crowd at his fingertips, so to speak, right there where there's control, and comfort, and brilliance. Even as they pose their own challenges, flesh and bone don't talk back.
Incomplete listening notes from the Moskal tape and
references below the fold.
