The Big Man and Captain Trips and You and Me

Last month I mentioned an unlikely pairing that "got me right behind the ol' ballpoint," to quote Cliff Clavin: Joe Strummer and Bruce Springsteen.

Today we get another coupling that I missed along the way but definitely should not have.

Clarence Clemons and Jerry Garcia.  The Big Man and Captain Trips.

In 1989, right about the time Random Idiots were forming in a College of William and Mary dormitory room, the E Street band was on hiatus.  Bruce Springsteen had disassembled them after the Tunnel of Love tour. Speculation was rampant as to whether they'd ever regroup. Most figured they
would, but nobody was sure when... or even if.

So in '89, Clarence Clemons was, as Grateful Dead's Bob Weir put it, "in moving-on mode."

Enter Jerry, who was always on the move. Since the Big Man was hanging around the Bay Area, it stood to reason they'd cross paths, and when they did, they played together.  Clemons played a string of Jerry Garcia Band shows and even a couple of Dead-proper shows.

The result was two great tastes that go great together, and you can find a number of these shows.  Melvin Seals and Jerry and Clarence... pretty damn good.

As a recent Rolling stone article conveys, Weir enjoyed it.

"Clarence was an old pal, a soulful bro. He was a good hang. Back in the late Eighties and early Nineties, he was living out here in Marin County. He was in moving-on mode, and he, Jerry, and I mixed it up a bit. We were dropping by clubs like Sweetwater and sitting in with various bands.”

I'd love to be called a "good hang" by the likes of Bob Weir, or any of the gheorghies, for that matter.

And if them playing music together wasn't entertainment enough, imagine if this had happened:

“Jerry and I were both single at that time, and Clarence suggested the three of us move in together and have a bachelor pad,” Weir recalled bemusedly. “Jerry and I almost went for it. It would’ve been a lot of fun, but I don’t think anyone would have survived. Jerry was in good shape, but we were doing a little drinking.”

I smell sitcom... This Deadhead found the whole collaboration to be a hoot.

Anyway, it's a fun pairing. I saw the JGB at Merriweather Post in September 1989, just missing one of the shows where the Big Man joined them. There was a lot blowing my mind that night; who knows, perhaps Clarence Clemons walking on stage might've done me in.

A few months back, the 9/16/89 show from a Chicago suburb was formally released, and I've been letting it play for a spell. Find it: GarciaLive Volume 13: September 16th, 1989 Poplar Creek Music Theatre.  Speaking of released, their take on "I Shall Be Released" is pretty much nectar.

Here's a cut. They love each other, or at least it sure looks that way in the photos.

and here's Clarence with the Dead in Oak-town, closing out the show...

There was talk of CC joining the Dead, but they were a democracy, and since some members hated saxophones, well... there it went. The E Street band rejoined Bruce a decade later. Happy to say that I caught a trio of shows from the '99 reformation, one with our Boss-lovin' chum Earl Lloyd.

The world misses Jerry, and Clarence, and Earl. May you all have music and memories to rock your soul.

Fare you well, fare you well
I love you more than words can tell
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul

I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

One of the tenets that some of us – especially those who have lost people before their time – generally operate under is to live well, as life is all too short. Appreciate the good things while you have them, stop and smell Rose’s . . . those kinds of credos that most people say but far fewer employ.

Regrets . . . I’ve had a few, but most of them that stick in my memory are of paths not taken, events passed up on for reasons that seem silly in retrospect. Weddings, road trips, sporting events, and, quite frequently, concerts. The moment-in-time gatherings that you hear about later and wonder why on earth you missed it.

Case in point, the Primus / Fishbone show at the Boathouse circa 1991. I had an exam the next day. There’s no way I studied / didn’t drink / passed the test, right? From what the guys said, it was an all-timer.

On Saturday I got into an intoxicating (-ed) conversation about rock and roll icons I’m glad I got to see before they were gone. Jerry, Joey, Jimmy (before he went for the gold and started to suck), etc. Our friend Otis stands atop the heap, having seen Elvis as a young kid.

For me, the one that got away was Joe Strummer and/or The Clash. Word in the Strummerville circles was that a reunion was . . . well, if not imminent, then a distinct possibility. Joe and Mick had buried the hatchets of years past, Topper was cleaned up, and Paul was still hanging around the industry. Then Joe Strummer had a fatal heart attack right before Christmas nine years ago, and that was that. I couldn’t fall back on memories of The Clash at William & Mary Hall in 1982, because I wasn’t there. Too young back then, and by the time I was in high school, that was that for The Only Band That Matters. I should’ve sought out a Joe solo show but never did. Shoulda coulda woulda. That was that.

Which leads me to yesterday. Father’s Day, and I awoke to a newspaper story about the Big Man heading off to the promised land. Very sad stuff for those who knew him, and kind of a bummer for those who would have loved to see him stroll down the archway one more time. I’m just pleased I got to see the E Street ensemble a number of times.

In September of ’99, I missed the first couple of days of a family Maine trip to make my 3rd Springsteen show of the week. Took some heat. Worth it. Bruce had just reunited with the full band, and it was their first East Coast tour. Our friend Cricket had a ticket connection, and she generously got me tickets to a trio of shows at the MCI Center in DC.

The third night I was in the 13th row, and our late, great chum Evan rode his motorcycle up from Georgia to see the show with me. He remains the biggest Springsteen fan I’ve met, though I’m certain his equivalent exists in scores of towns in the Garden State, around Philly, and in states and countries everywhere. Anyway, if you aren’t the superfan of the band you’re seeing, it’s a close second to be with someone who is. Insights and Pabsts were shared all night, and it was another brilliant set from the greatest collection of showmen (and showwoman) I’ve witnessed.

Which leads me back to yesterday. My morning featured quick visits with my dad and then my stepdad, handing them some Johnnie Walker black and cards that included more heartfelt sentiments than I’ve offered them in the past. The recent spate of good friends losing their dads and my own two experiencing health issues certainly warranted it. Okay, it was warranted regardless, but sometimes dudes can be stubborn.

After that, I took my daughters to the beach. Can’t beat it.

Finally, we get to my point: I was pretty beat, had a few in me, and thought about blowing off nighttime plans in favor of an early bed. Nah . . .

Instead, I went to see Phish at Portsmouth, VA’s NTelos Pavilion. One of the best venues I know, for those looking at their favorite bands’ dockets. Intimate amphitheater on the river. Meanwhile, I’d never seen Phish before; I know a fair bit of their stuff but had missed out on the space landings at Hampton Coliseum in years past. Last night was worth the trip.

I thought the show was phenomenal. Sounded amazing, huge energy, and although they didn’t do any of the stage antics of their lore (e.g., descending to the stage in a large hot dog), they pulled one stunt: they brought their four fathers on stage for a little banter and appreciation, followed by their children. Winsome.

And here’s where it wraps up . . . in a modest, not showy way, they paid tribute. Middle of the first set, without ado, they started in on “Thunder Road.” They had no sax to perform “Jungleland” or something more Clarence’s style, nor would they want to even try. After the song:

“Thanks, you guys. Thanks for puttin’ up with a little shakiness. We learned that from a place of real love. That was for the great Clarence Clemons, who passed away yesterday.”

And then directly on to the next song. I was surprised and impressed. Mainly I’m just glad I went last night. Surrounded by a slew of friends, many beverages, and a rock and roll show I’d not seen before, I was living well, since life is all too short.




. . . and so is Rob. DAMMIT, I tried, little buddy, I just couldn't make my way through it.

Photo Taken at Stone Pony on Sunday June 19th

Many of you may have heard of the Stone Pony as the unofficial "hometown bar" of Bruce Springsteen. This was the scene at 1 PM on Sunday.

RIP, Big Man

Sad news this evening, as Clarence Clemons passed away from complications related to his recent stroke.