By Michael A. Weiss
Grateful Dead at Giants Stadium, East Rutherford, NJ, September 2, 1978
Since I didn’t drop out of high school to become a roadie after attending the Beach Boys concert, my parents reluctantly permitted me to attend my first Grateful Dead concert at the age of 15. I had been asking them to go for two years. I’d also adorned almost everything I owned with “Skull and Roses” stickers and that seriously freaked out my Dad. This time, though, it was different because the show was local and I was set to go with what my mom termed, my “responsible” friends. This somehow convinced my parents I was much less likely to become a “Deadhead,” and God only knows what they thought that meant.
I certainly remember the music but it’s the entire day that stands out. The concert lineup consisted of the New Riders of the Purple Sage and Willie Nelson opening for the Dead. I loved the New Riders and figured it would be easy to get through a short set of Willie but it was an incredibly hot afternoon which tested the patience of most in attendance. But the heat wasn’t the main problem; it just intensified as waiting through the fine performances of the New Riders and Willie Nelson to get to the Dead proved to be interminable.
The ensuing weirdness at Giants Stadium was the first life situation for which my parents hadn’t prepared me. Sure, they warned me not to join a Jerry Garcia cult. They put the fear of God in me and said that “mutilating my body with a tattoo” would make me persona non-grata to all the best Jewish cemeteries. But somehow my Dad, an Al Jolson fan, never brought up the scenario of thousands of Deadheads congregating together at Giants Stadium in 90+ degree heat, seriously freaking out because the legendary Willie Nelson was taking too long and interfering with their carefully planned, chemically synchronized encounter with Jerry Garcia.
I remember feeling intimidated, almost homesick, walking around Giants Stadium during Willie’s set watching what I can only describe as psychedelically colorful dancing to music only they heard in their minds. Some took to the steep cement aisles to express their individuality and this never went well. During these moments, I felt I didn’t belong at the show because I literally would not drink the Electric Kool-Aid. At least my “responsible” friends didn’t dance in absence of music so that made me feel better. I was sure this never occurred at Al Jolson concerts. When the Grateful Dead finally appeared on stage and worked through more of a warm-up first set, the music began to take over and I relaxed. The second set brought me home with the superb, “Scarlet Begonias,” the magical “Eyes of the World” and a stirring “One More Saturday Night.” It was then I knew I belonged in the crowd. That’s never changed. You can listen to this show here https://archive.org/details/gd78-09-02.sbd.jools.7925.sbeok.shnf
Beach Boys at Central Park’s Great Lawn, NYC, September 1, 1977
I had been a fan of the Beach Boys ever since my sisters bought me The Beach Boys Live in Concert album as a birthday gift for my 11th or 12th birthday. They didn’t always strike pay dirt with these gifts as evidenced by the year they gave me the Diamond Girl album by Seals and Crofts. But something about the Beach Boys felt fun and comfortable and I began accumulating as many of their albums as I was able to afford with my allowance.
Then one day, legendary 102.7 WNEW-FM disc jockey Scott Muni, aka “Scottso” in the metropolitan New York area, confirmed the rumors about the Beach Boys playing a free concert in New York City’s Central Park. Muni’s gravel voice and rock expertise had become integrated into my daily routine. I was plugged in about this show from rumor to reality. I was 14-years-old, fresh off seeing Kentucky Fried Movie with my older friends and determined to watch Mike Love sing my favorite song, “Surfin’ USA.”
After watching the evening news and learning about the marijuana exploits taking place in and around screenings of Kentucky Fried Movie, my mom noticeably breathed a sigh of relief when I begged her to let me go to my first live rock-n-roll concert featuring the “benign” Beach Boys. She grilled me about “these” Beach Boys with skepticism. I recognized her suspicions from all the times my sisters had been interrogated about their male suitors. So I knew there was no need to bring up the drug-filled chaos which almost derailed the Beach Boys in the early 1970s.
Due to the expected turnout of over 100,000 people, my friends and I were forced to take the subway for the very first time. “Forced” is a little strong since no one drove yet, at least not legally, but I think my parents were more concerned about me taking the subway than attending the concert. My mom just wasn’t crazy about the New York City subway system as my maiden voyage. I didn’t understand back then but do now after recently stumbling upon this picture of me with my folks. Of all the photos I could have found, this was the only one in which I’m wearing a Beach Boys t-shirt, which I may have very well purchased at my first concert.
At the concert, the Beach Boys covered all their hits but the sound suffered due to the miserable acoustical setup that failed to support such an enormous crowd. Still, I loved it. Watching Mike Love sing, “Surfin’ USA” introduced me to what I imagined to be incredibly cool places along the California coastline and eventually provided the impetus for my move to Santa Monica, California in 2005. Enjoying music with so many other people was also a new experience and it broadened my appreciation for how the same music can affect different people in different ways.
While I did finally learn that the lyric in “Surfin’ USA” was “Huarache sandals too” and not my made-up phrase, “Or-achi-sanos-too,” the highlight of the show for me was “California Saga.” When I heard the first verse and noticed that few were singing along, I was confused, as even I knew all the words. After the concert someone told me it was a relatively rare song for them to perform live. That’s when I first felt “cool.”
You can listen to the show here https://youtu.be/4ftsl_iNwrk.
What are your most memorable concert experiences? I welcome your comments below.
Great thoughts and insights Michael……as usual….Boy…you were quite young to get started in this culture that I am sure became a big part of your life From then on…Would you care to write an article about your move to Santa Monica. AND how you were involved with the music industry and ended up taking personal photos with Brian Wilson and other legends..I Know that I would find it quite interesting….STAY well..and STAY in Tune…MM
What a great Dead show to attend. “Eyes of the World” is always magical live.