The 50th Anniversary Deluxe Edition of Grateful Dead’s Wake of the Flood isn’t so hefty or cosmetically detailed as its predecessors, most of which consisted of three CDs with markedly enhanced cover graphics. But that only puts this two-CD package in line with the expanding range of the iconic band’s activities at the time it was released half a century ago.
The Dead and its organization was conducting a sequence of events in a methodical manner quite similar to their most involved improvisations on stage. Having fulfilled their contractual obligations to Warner Bros Records with the triple set that was Europe ’72, the judicious extension of action included (but was not limited to) the establishment of their own independent record label, the first release of which was this sixth studio album of the storied band’s.
Continuing in the direction of efficiency and economy applied to their previous two studio projects of 1970, Workingman’s Dead and American Beauty, the making of Wake of the Flood is also the result of a condensed period of concentration. Hastening the progress the Dead made in less than two weeks (a rate of accomplishment no doubt elevated by the engineering of their own audio guru Dan Healy), the core sextet had been playing a handful of the original compositions live for months prior. And while they were working for the first time on such a project without founding member Ron ‘Pigpen’ McKernan–who had passed the previous March–this effort was also the first to include Keith and Donna Godchaux.
The former contributed his sole original tune here, “Let Me Sing Your Blues Away,” a co-write in ragtime style with lyricist Robert Hunter on which the keyboardist himself sang for the one and only time. The purposeful participation of a number of guest musicians is yet another novel distinction along these same lines: Vassar Clements (Old & In the Way) plays fiddle on “Mississippi Half-Step Uptown Toodeloo,” while Martin Fierro (Legion of Mary) contributes saxophone during Keith’s number.
The presence of those varied personnel enhanced rather than undermined the continuity of the seven tracks that, at their high points, radiate an unusually tranquil confidence. It’s fair to say Jerry Garcia and Robert Hunter never co-authored more distinct material than “Eyes of the World” and “Here Comes Sunshine,” and it hardly disparages the duo’s creative partnership–much less the former’s solo demos–to note how both these tunes, in ‘finished’ renditions, sound like they come straight from the middle of an intricate Dead improvisation (they are also shorter than the demos).
Wisely juxtaposed in the cut sequence, there’s a much more finite structure in the duo’s “Row Jimmy” and “Stella Blue.” The same is certainly true of Weir’s work in composing ‘Weather Report Suite,” not only in collaboration with his usual writing comrade, John Perry Barlow, but also with folk artist Eric Andersen. A somewhat truncated version of the multi-part number would become a reliable jam vehicle over the years and a sixteen-minute plus take of the suite actually begins the half-dozen tracks on this second compact disc.Â
Along with another selection from the album, “Mississippi Half-Step Uptown Toodeloo”, these Kidd Candelario recordings bookend the half-dozen track’s total and, in doing so, apply a certain logic to the seventy-plus minutes. Clearly, the band was equally inspired as much by simplicity as complexity in concert around this time, and the juxtaposition of newer material with the vintage likes of “Playing in the Band” illustrates their growth as songwriters as well as an instrumental collective.
Nevertheless, it remains a bit confounding that the live content doesn’t constitute a complete show like this title’s predecessors in the Grateful Dead anniversary series (see the Workingman’s Dead and American Beauty sets). Perhaps the curators felt they had sufficiently plumbed the depths of the vault with the mammoth compendium RFK Stadium, Washington, D.C. 6/10/73, itself a successor to the arguably superior Pacific Northwest ’73–’74: The Complete Recordings.Â
Even without a 3D cover, this anniversary edition compares favorably in terms of attention to detail with previous milestone collections of Aoxomoxoa and Anthem of the Sun. Contrasting flat and glossy finishes highlight Rick Griffin’s art, while the keeper of the vault David Lemieux’s essay in the twenty-page booklet inside the slipcase is just as straightforward a means of highlighting this entry in the ongoing vault enterprise.Â
In contrast, historian and archivist Nicolas G. Meriwether would have done well to edit his prose. Doing so might better emphasize the significance of Wake of the Flood in the overall Grateful Dead timeline, but most especially in this time of willful change. He does note how counterfeiting adversely affected initial sales of the Grateful Dead Records label debut and he’s also sufficiently sagacious to point out that, despite their best efforts at quality control in that regard, Grateful Dead had come to be much misunderstood as undisciplined figures by this point in their career.Â
With the great benefit of hindsight, it’s much more accurate to state that, through the better part of their thirty-year history, the group was very much the opposite of lackadaisical. In fact, in both their business and artistic endeavors, these psychedelic warriors may have never been more prolific in as many different ways, than in 1973.
Proof positive in that regard is that there is no album in the Grateful Dead discography that more effectively represents the group’s idiosyncratic work ethic, on its very own terms and beyond, than Wake Of The Flood.
