Oregon daily emerald. (Eugene, Or.) 1920-2012, October 13, 1977, Section B, Page 9, Image 21

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    Terrapin Station
Dead’s latest production loses live sound
Terrapin Station
The Grateful Dead
Produced by Keith Olsen
Arista Records
The first album they didn’t pro
duce themselves, Terrapin Sta
tion represents a bit of a change
for the Dead. There are sounds on
i:
The Grateful Dead. They’ve
been around a long time (their first
album was recorded over 10
years ago) but have managed to
change and grow. Over the
years the band has picked up a
group of fanatic followers, some of
whom probably didn't like the
change represented by the
Dead s new album, Terrapin
Station.
the album (which were produced
in the studio) that really couldn’t
be made during live perfor
mances.
‘ Estimated Prophet" (written by
Bob Wier, who plays rhythm
guitar) is really the only new song
on the first side that s worth much.
Wier’s role in the band has
changed over the years (he was
most prominent about the time his
single album, Ace, came out) and
while he's a bit of a male
chauvinist (he was responsible for
the song “Sugar Magnolia”), he
writes songs that are complicated,
but listenable.
“Passenger” (written by bassist
Phil Lesh) is a rocker that is, sim
ply put, terrible. And while “Sun
rise” (written by Donna God
chaux) is a pretty tune, it doesn’t
stand up to repeated listenings
like some other Grateful Dead
tunes.
The other songs, “Dancin’ in the
Streets" and “Samson and De
lilah,” are tunes the Dead had
done live for a while but the album
wouldn’t have suffered if they had
left "Dancin’ in the Street" off.
While “Samson and Delilah” (ar
ranged by Wier) has an interesting
rhythm, “Dancin’ in the Streets”
just won't stand the transition from
performance to vinyl.
The second side has only one
song, “Terrapin Station,” and is
pretty good, especially at the first.
Toward the end it gets too orches
trated (with a choir and French
horns) but it’s a logical extension
of Blues for Allah, viewing the
studio as a different environment
than performances. While it’s a lit
tle short, the song displays some
of the talent the Dead have.
Garcia does the vocals, and the
drumming of Mickey Hart and Bill
Kreutzmann is impressive. It’s too
bad “Terrapin Station” wasn’t
among the songs the Dead played
at their recent Portland concerts
(Oct. 1 and 2) because it would
have been interesting to see what
was done with it live.
On the whole, the album lacked
the impact of others the band has
put out. While the first side rep
resents the Dead's move over the
last couple of years to cash in on
the big bucks being spent on
music, the album’s well worth ad
ding to your collection.
As for the concerts, Paramount
lines are a real drag; Saturday
night’s crowd was a little young;
but it was good to see the Dead
again.
As is always the case when they
play out of San Francisco, the
Dead played an awful lot of tunes
(it wasn’t until Sunday that they
turned more towards anonymous
music), but they played a lot of old
(Continued on Page 10B)
The River
(Continued from Page 3B)
another. The rhythms of life, of
growth and change and coming of
age, of understanding and accept
ing both the promises of life and its
disappointments, are the essence
of the film. Finally, just as the river
and the natural order form the
physical context for the film s
story, so death and birth perfectly
define its spiritual context. Death
and birth are absolutes that make
all other experiences, by their
sheer lack of permanence, seem
tnvial.
At the end of the film, the three
young women whose interest in
the same man has dominated the
story, all receive letters from him;
as they sit down to read them, they
hear the sound of a crying new
born baby, and, in the face of the
event that heralds, simultane
ously rise and discard the sud
denly unimportant letters. Life is
timeless, its rhythms, deeply em
bedded in the natural universe:
joy, suffering, confusion, and
tranquility, and even birth and
death, are experiences to be ac
cepted, not rebelled against.
In the most striking visual coup
of the film, Renoir shows a series
of characters sleeping in the af
ternoon heat, the camera moving
in toward some, pulling back from
others. The final sleeping figure,
the film s central character and
narrator, is awakened from her
rest, and shortly later approaches
a tree. As she does so, the camera
gently pans to reveal yet another
reclining figure, the body of her
dead brother.
The matter-of-factness with
which the film introduces the fact
of death emphasizes yet again
how all human experience is of the
same cosmic fabric; even death is
simply another state of being, dif
ferent from sleep in degree rather
than in kind.
Ultimately, it is possible to do no
more than hint at and savor a few
of the glories of The River. At this
level of artistry, criticism is virtually
irrelevant; no commentary can be
nearly as valuable as a simple re
minder that the film is playing Fri
day through Tuesday at Cinema7.
The River's co-feature, Ohayo
(Good Morning), Japanese mas
ter Vasujiro Ozu's wry and whim
sical look at the generation gap, is
itself a delight. The two in combi
nation form a program not to be
missed.
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