It is entirely fitting Gary Lambert writes the essay within the twenty-four-page booklet accompanying the two CDs of GarciaLive Volume 18. The erudite writer/historian’s writing has the natural and unforced flow of the music itself which, over the course of its two hours plus, progresses via near-uncanny pacing to the appropriately chipper concluding take on “Mystery Train.”
Jerry Garcia and Merl Saunders generously incorporate contributions from the rest of the quintet on these recordings from Keystone Berkeley in November of 1974. But that’s fully in line with the roughly four-year duration of their time playing together, where a mutual humility furthered each man’s willingness to learn from the other. In keeping with that mutually open state of mind, there’s a wide range of eclectic material here: Eddie Harris’ “Freedom Jazz Dance” prominently features a sinuous Hammond B3 organ, while Jimmy Cliff’s “The Harder They Come” and Bob Dylan’s “Tough Mama,” eventual inclusions in the future repertoire of the Jerry Garcia Band, areas ripe fodder for unified ensemble playing as ego-free soloing.
Still, the guitarist/vocalist and the keyboardist set an uncommon tone by refusing any need to try and outplay each other. Instead, both take inspiration from the choices of songs and the arrangements that allow plenty of room to improvise over the steady pulse of bassist John Kahn and drummer Paul Humphrey. As on the easygoing shuffle of the first set closer, “That’s The Touch I like,” the syncopated exchanges that take place during Donny Hathaway’s “Valdez in the Country” are indicative of quick thinking all around. As is the spotlight afforded saxophonist/flutist Martin Fierro on that latter extended take: the man with the horn (Legion of Mary, Zero, Doug Sahm) blows guttural tones that effectively contrast the bright electric piano and pointed electric guitar runs.
This rendition of Saunders’ original “Wondering Why” greatly benefits from Fierro’s bright flute lines, too. In fact, even as it runs twenty-one minutes and twenty-eight seconds (and segues right into the equally dark and atmospheric “People Make The World Go Round”), there’s never any sense of the connection waning among the fivesome; each member of the band is as engaged in their respective role as the others, so the five-piece literally and figuratively sounds far bigger and more versatile than its number might allow. Fortunately, all such aspects of the musicianship come through thoroughly in Fred Kevorkian’s mastering of original recordings by the famed Betty Cantor-Jackson.
The depth matches the clarity in this audio mix too, a virtue all the more worth savoring when eight of these ten tracks extend in duration for double figures. In much the same way as the aforementioned author extols his recollections of seeing these without waxing nostalgia, so too do the producers and curators of this archival series, Marc Allan and Kevin Monty, evince a healthy reverence for their subjects rather than a slavish devotion.
Not surprisingly, then, that attitude also corresponds to the inclusion of original Garcia art, juxtaposed with period photographs, that adorn the cover of the dual-fold digi-pak. It’s a graphic design for GarciaLive Volume 18 that, like the other aspects of the package, ultimately reflects much the same relish with which Jerry, Merl, and company originally imbued this music.
