Dead
Heads
For Bob, the entire
Grateful Dead ex
perience "is just a
great time." While
on his recent
transcontinental
adventure, he and
some friends can
vassed for the CCC
->The Cosmic
Charlie Campaign.
An interesting sample of
humanity at its mellowest
The Grateful Dead: Music is still the
universal language
“A Grateful Dead concert," says a
popular bumber-sticker, "is like nothing
else in the world."
That particular bumper sticker says
what many of us — fans or not fans —
already know about that definition
defying 1960s San Francisco “acid rock
band," the venerable Grateful Dead. The
charisma of the band is difficult to tag,
mainly because its music can't be
classified as strictly rock, strictly
bluegrass, strictly folk, strictly jazz or
even strict. One observer put it well:
"They (the Grateful Dead) aren't the best
at what they do. They're the only ones
who do what they do."
But just as the band itself defies being
filed under a specific musical classifica
tion, neither can the Grateful Dead fans
be easily indexed; they aren't all hippies,
all preppies, all yuppies. There just isn't
one classical, "typical" Grateful Dead
fan. Not all the fans take drugs, wear tie
dyed T-shirts, or collect concert tapes
from the 20 years the Grateful Dead has
been performing. Of course many of
them do. But "dressing-up" isn't an
essential criterion for being a Dead fan;
at a Grateful Dead concert, anyone can
get away with wearing almost anything
(including nothing at all), as long as
anyone is groovin' to the music. These
fans come in tie-dyed T-shirts, shabby
cotton skirts and broken-down
Birkenstocks; beads and bangles and col
orful stockings; Levis, IZODs, Vaurnets
and Nike running shoes.
Music is the one element which bonds
the fans together — entraps them like
flies caught in a web. Only, unlike
ensnared insects, these people thrive on
the encounter — the music, the ex
perience, the tarantism. The actual feel
ing of the music.
Most Grateful Dead fans consider
themselves serious about the time they
spend pursuing the Dead's music, either
at concerts or through albums and tapes.
There are the traveling Dead Heads
everyone hears about — the ones who
plan their summer vacations around the
band's tour schedule. There are also the
two-or-three-shows-a-year fans, like
John.
John and Bob: A contrast in fans
John graduated from the University in
1982 with three degrees — in Marketing,
Finance and Economics. Now cleancut
and athletically fit at 24, he is, by many
modern American standards, a suc
cessful businessman. Not only is John
the controller for Nature Expeditions In
ternational (a Eugene company which
organizes international wilderness
outings for large groups), but he is also a
private business consultant. In his spare
time he adamantly enjoys playing tennis
and flyfishing. And, of course, listening
to the Grateful Dead.
"I listen to them all the time,” says
John, who has been a consistent Dead
fan for about "five or six years." He's
even seen a few of the group's live per
formances — "15 or 20," to be more ex
These people thrive
on the encounter —
the music, the ex
perience, the taran
tism. The
actual feeling
of the music.
Story by Kim Carlson
Photos by Michael Downey
act. He trades concert tapes; he wore an
Arrow button-down shirt to the Dead's
last Eugene concert. John considers
himself a serious fan, but he doesn't
chase the band across the country.
"Some people do that," he adds.
Bob does that. A native New York Dead
Head, now transplanted in California,
Bob has spent the past few months
traveling across the country, intent upon
seeing the Grateful Dead perform on
their spring tour. He was in Eugene for
the Hult Center concerts at the beginn
ing of May. The band played in The Big
Apple before coming here; Bob was
there too. In fact, he saw the past 21
shows, but he said the Eugene shows
were his last for awhile; he was headed
back to Santa Cruz to resume his career
as a neon sign and sculpture maker.
Bob is a serious fan too. He's got to be
to have that kind of enthusiasm. His long
blond hair and Grateful Dead T-shirt
might serve to give him the label of Dead
Head. For Bob, the entire Grateful Dead
experience "is just a great time." While
on his recent transcontinental adven
ture, Bob and some friends canvassed for
the CCC — the Cosmic Charlie Cam
paign ("Cosmic Charlie" being a song
the band hasn't played in concert for
more than seven years). The group pass
ed out leaflets with the song's lyrics, and
advised unknowing Dead fans where to
write to offer their support for Cosmic
Charlie.
"It's just fun," says Bob of the cam
paign. His strategy is mildly non
commital: He says if the campaign works,
it works. If it doesn't, that's OK too. ’'I
don't know. The whole thing just makes
people feel good." And feeling good,
like, that's what it's 9II about, right?
Some like it hot, others like it naught
When the band comes to town, there
are very few people who don't know
about it. The group's last two Eugene ap
pearances have been three night, three
show sell-out gigs at the city's constantly
newsmaking Hult Center. But while
everyone is aware that the Dead is
around, not everyone loves it.
The Hult Center staff is not exactly us
ed to people lurking on the front steps of
their grey monstrosity just to get tickets