Ask a deadhead what they think is the band’s best year of performances and the answers you get will vary greatly. Some will point to a primal year like 1968; others love the jazz-era of 1973 or 1974; 1977 and its mind-bending level of proficiency will always rank near the top, and other years, like 1979 (after Brent joined the band), 1981, and 1990 are likely to garner some votes too.
On the other hand, ask a deadhead what they think is the band’s worst year of performances and the answer you get will almost uniformly be the same - 1986. [1] It was a year of low points. Shows that lasted less than two hours were played with little vigor or life. Jerry, having cleaned up for much of 1985, relapsed and, combined with his ballooning weight and poor health, was barely a presence on stage most nights. He missed lyrics left and right, his playing was subpar at best and downright awful at worst. He and Weir were rarely on the same page and many nights sounded like the band was simply going through the motions (and quickly!).
1986 also saw the final Lost Sailor (3/24/86), a less-than-six-minute Terrapin (4/13/86), and one of the worst-rated shows in the band’s 30-year history (6/26/86). The capper was Jerry collapsing three days after the end of the band’s summer tour and lapsing into a diabetic coma that nearly killed him.
But even in the worst of times, the Dead were able to produce moments of sheer brilliance. Having combed through this fallow part of the band’s musical canon, I found a few performances worth a spin or two (in ascending date order, click on the song name for a link to the show at archive.org):
1.
Visions of Johanna (Hampton Coliseum, March 19, 1986): The band’s first crack at this Dylan classic is letter perfect. Garcia has it all going on, from the lyrical phrasing to his guitar leads. It is apparent the band put the time in the studio to get this song “just exactly perfect.”
2.
Uncle John’s Band (Hampton Coliseum, March 21, 1986): Closing out a strong three-night run in Hampton, the Dead opened the second set with this neat little version of UJB. Sure, Jerry flubs some lyrics, but the musical phrasing, particularly the outro-jam that starts at around five minutes, is well articulated, with Weir pushing a Supplication Jam line hoping Jerry will bite (he does not). The Terrapin>Playin’ that follows is not shabby either.
3.
Playing in the Band (Cal Expo, May 4, 1986): At this just-over-two-hour show, the band coughed out only two songs before the drums/space segment in the second set, but one of them was this super spacey 15-minute version of PITB. Garcia is not just present throughout but leading the band into dark corners of the musical universe. Lesh bops along, matching Jerry note-for-note while Brent embellishes the jam with his twinkling keys and Weir tosses out his own unique rhythmic phrasing.
4.
Fire on the Mountain (Greek Theater, June 22, 1986): This is probably my favorite version of
Fire other than Cornell. It is a stand alone version that opened the second set with a slinky groove, that signature Dead anachronism (Weir coming in early on the chorus, a wildfire burning in the distance) and hypnotizing Mydland keyboard work.
5.
(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction (RFK Stadium, July 7, 1986): Had Jerry not made it, this would have been the final song the band ever performed, and a fitting ending it would have been because this is a deeply weird version of the Rolling Stones classic. The song is played at a frenetic pace with Phil dropping bombs left and right. Toward the end, Weir ad-libs band introductions, referring to Brent as a man of “much action but very few words,” referring to Jerry as “old Jer,” (who throws out a few chords in appreciation) and Jerry returning the favor in his reedy voice by describing Bobby as “one of my favorite people in the whole world.” It is just SO Grateful Dead.
If there is a silver lining, once Jerry came out of his coma, relearned the guitar, and started taking care of himself, the come back shows at the Oakland Coliseum in mid-December 1986 heralded a new era in the band’s history. I do not consider the handful of post-coma shows as even part of the same year as the pre-coma shows, because it really is like listening to two different bands.
If you want a sense of the euphoria fans felt that Jerry had survived his brush with death, I suggest you listen to
Candyman (Oakland Coliseum, December 15, 1986). When Jerry hits the “hand me my old guitar” line, the eruption from the crowd will send chills up and down your spine.
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END NOTE
1. I know, I know. Some of you are going to argue for 1984, others for 1994 and/or 1995. A few points. While Jerry’s appearance in 1984 was appalling, his playing was still at a high level, and indeed, as I wrote
here, the year in toto is highly underrated. By 1986, not only did he look terrible, his playing had fallen off as well. On the other hand, while Jerry was flagging in those last two years, the rest of the band consistently elevated their collective game to make up for his shortcomings. Not so in 1986, where the whole band was limping along.
