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       Most Deadheads pan the band's debut, saying it sounds nothing like their 
        'classic' sound and they hadn't yet grown into their unique style. This 
        is true, and definitely the main reason for me liking it quite a bit. 
        See, when the Grateful Dead formed out of several different shards and 
        smithereens of their former bands, they weren't exactly driven together 
        by the will to experiment and come up with a radically new type of music. 
        They were nothing but a bunch of cool Californian guys with some playing 
        experience behind their backs - Garcia with more of a folky background; 
        Lesh, if I'm to believe the liner notes, from "electronic music" 
        background, which pretty much makes him the only 'experimental' element 
        back then; and the others from various rock bands. And at this point, 
        the band's musical direction was primarily indicated by Pigpen, with his 
        love for blues and R'n'B and cool Hammond organ tone which is actually 
        more audible on this particular record than Jerry's guitar. 
        And I like it. It is definitely untrue that the album sounds nothing like 
        their further stuff. Well, it definitely sounds nothing like the subsequent 
        two studio albums, where the Dead plunged headlong into lethargic psychedelia. 
        But many of the tunes on here aren't that far removed from their country/folk 
        "retro-fication" on Workingman's Dead and later on; not to mention 
        that more than half of the songs on here made it into the regular Deadshow, 
        and stayed there at least until the passing of Pigpen, and some even further. 
        The crucial difference is they rock, and they rock much more than anything 
        the Dead have created ever since. 
        The very opening of the record, those distorted electric chords and the 
        slightly fuzzy organ tone of 'The Golden Road (To Unlimited Devotion)', 
        show that pumping up the energy level was by no means a technique unknown 
        to the Dead in those early days. In fact, when two rocking guitars, a 
        rocking organ, and loud, almost "brawny", harmonies all join 
        together, it results in a wall-of-sound effect that is radically opposed 
        to the 'classic' thin, wimpy Deadsound. You can find similar melodies 
        all over their career, but a similar sound? Only on a particularly energetic 
        live night, I guess. 
        Another thing is that on this record, they're no sworn enemies of fast 
        tempos. 'Beat It On Down The Line' is lively, friendly, and toe-tappy 
        all over, and still rendered quite "Deadly" because of Pigpen's 
        identifiable organ playing. And I totally dig their reworking of 'Sitting 
        On Top Of The World', here turned into a fast, frantic shuffle which makes 
        its point in a breathtakingly short span of two minutes, replete with 
        a nimble solo from Mr Garcia (I presume), shining in all of its Chuck 
        Berry-ish glory. 'Cold Rain And Snow' and 'New New Minglewood Blues' are 
        slightly less involving in terms of power, but more interesting from a 
        melodic point of view, especially the former with its optimistic organ 
        'interludes' and stuff - no wonder it readily made it back into their 
        concert set when they started moving away from psychedelia. 
        Of course, the record isn't free of some of that "sterile" approach 
        to the blues that is already rearing its ugly head in the Deadcamp. 'Good 
        Morning Little Schoolgirl' is much shorter here than it is on any of the 
        band's live records, but actually feels longer than some of the better 
        live versions, because it emphasizes Pigpen strutting his stuff rather 
        than tight interplay between the band members. And their rendition of 
        the folkie ballad 'Morning Dew' I find myself respecting much more than 
        actually falling for - which supposedly means they don't manage to capture 
        the song's tragic essence, even if they try to. Heck, I'll take the Rod 
        Stewart, or even the inventive-as-hell Nazareth version of the song, over 
        the Dead version any day. 
        That said, the best treat comes at the end in the form of the ten-minute 
        'Viola Lee Blues'. Now that's a real monster of a jam if there ever was 
        one. Go ahead Deadheads and crucify me, but the Dead never, and I repeat, 
        never did a more murderous instrumental sequence in their entire career 
        than the steam-raising crescendo in the middle of this tune. It doesn't 
        hint at much when it begins, just a standard riff-driven blues-rocker 
        with an occasional "initiation of a rock solo" that quickly 
        dissipates into oblivion, but then somewhere around the fourth minute 
        the Dead are starting to exercise in "math-rock", gradually 
        pushing up the valves and handles and spinning up the dials and blowing 
        up the pistons and increasing the tempo and playing more notes per second 
        and zooping up the bass fretboards and crashing the cymbals and inserting 
        splinters of funky rhythms and suddenly pushing Pigpen's psychedelic organ 
        riffs to the top of everything and then making Garcia solo with even more 
        aggression on top of these riffs and then Pigpen starts rising the volume 
        even higher and then Garcia breaks into an ass-kicking repetitive rock'n'roll 
        phrase and they start hitting higher and higher "stingey" chords 
        and going into trills and barrages of chords and then poof! - it is over. 
        Yeah, believe it or not, I just described (as best as I could) an actual 
        Grateful Dead jam which is not a 'Dark Star' or a 'The Eleven' by any 
        means. 
        Which leads us to the obvious conclusion - if you hate the Dead more than 
        filling in tax declarations, this is the only album of theirs that can 
        possibly impress you. But if you love the Dead more than the living, you 
        will probably be ready to join the chorus of those who are always ready 
        to point out how it is not a "true" Dead album. In fact, I'm 
        not even sure if they were stoned while recording it. And besides, it's 
        the only Grateful Dead album where you'll find a clean-shaven Jerry Garcia 
        looking at you from the front cover. If that ain't a reason for exchanging 
        your entire collection of dried butterflies for something musically-related, 
        I don't know what is. 
(by George Starostin, 
	  Only Solitaire) 
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