Published on Mar 13, 1998
If you were a music lover in 1968, The Grateful Dead had to have
thrown you a serious curve ball. Their self-titled debut album was
a collection of blues-rock on speed, and could have been viewed as
“mostly harmless” by a conservative listener.
So if
The Grateful Dead was a Sunday drive in the country, their
follow-up release
Anthem Of The Sun was a trip on the autobahn with no brakes.
Adding in second drummer Mickey Hart and keyboardist Tom Constanten
to the mix, the Dead disposed of the blues riffs and dived
headfirst into psychedelia. While this is not always an interesting
listen, it does grow on you after a while.
After their original producer Dave Hassinger was sent screaming
for the exits (apparently after bassist Phil Lesh wanted to record
sounds of “heavy air,” whatever the hell that meant), the Dead
ended up producing their own work. A combination of studio work and
live performances,
Anthem Of The Sun is a definite mish-mash of concepts and
sounds – some which work, some which don’t. And for such a short
disc, sometimes you find yourself wishing they had expanded on some
of the good ideas.
One of the early “masterpieces” of the group, the four-movement
“That’s It For The Other One” took on many lives of its own during
the Dead’s 30-year touring history – and there is debate today on
whether the movements are correctly labeled. Building from a gentle
passasge featuring the vocals of lead guitarist Jerry Garcia into
the concert ferociousness led by rhythm guitarist Bob Weir, “The
Other One” (as it’s known to Deadheads) is a nonstop challenge to
your ears and your brain, and is still enjoyable 30 years after it
was recorded. Likewise, “Born Cross-Eyed” is a slab of pure rock
weirdness that ends all too soon – if you invested in the best-of
What A Long, Strange Trip It’s Been then you should be
familiar with this one.
The two hidden gems on this disc (which is only five songs long
anyway) are “Alligator,” an 11-minute work which also builds from a
more controlled melody into a frenzy, and “New Potato Caboose,” a
surprisingly powerful track which has been a forgotten classic (why
the band stopped performing this one live I’ll never
understand).
But even though there’s only one clunker on
Anthem Of The Sun, “Caution (Do Not Stop On Tracks)” is a
big one. A nine-minute drum rhythm led by keyboardist Ron “Pigpen”
McKernan, this might have been a show-stopper live but it just
drags on disc. I don’t think nine minutes ever felt longer – and
remember, this is coming from a
nouveau Deadhead.
The only other real problem with
Anthem Of The Sun is that it’s an album that will still
catch people just discovering the Dead off-guard – especially those
who climbed on board with the success of “Touch Of Grey”. This is
psychadelia at its rawest, most experimental – and, at times,
ugliest. When I first bought this album on tape in the summer of
1990, I couldn’t stand it, and locked it in a trunk in the Pierce
Archives. Over the years, I’ve occasionally pulled it out to blow
out the pipes, and eventually liked it enough to update it to
compact disc. Other listeners might not be so patient.
Anthem Of The Sun contains some tracks which have become
legends in the world of The Grateful Dead, but still remains a
stark picture of what the world of psychedelia was
really like in 1968. Face it – if you’re brave enough.