The Golden Road (1965-1973) The Grateful Dead Rhino Records, 2001   Buy it online Nightfall of Diamonds The Grateful Dead Arista, 2001   Buy it online Wake the Dead Wake the Dead Arista, 2000   Buy it online Reviewed by Robert Wiersema	If one were to look only at the cd shelves in their local music store, it would seem that the Grateful Dead are more active now than when they were actually an actively performing band. In the six-and-a-half years since the death of guitarist and icon Jerry Garcia, Grateful Dead Productions (the corporate arm of the group) has maintained an extensive and regular release program, doling out treasures from the vault at a pace that vastly outstrips the band's previous recorded output. While some hard-core fans object (arguing that, with the Grateful Dead's generous taping and trading policies, much of this material can be had for free, rather than lining the pockets of the corporation), it's a positive boon for those new to the band's music, or those lacking the time for tape trading. The big news of the last few months was the mammoth release of The Golden Road, a 12 (!) cd set detailing the Grateful Dead's tenure with Warner Music from 1965 to 1973. The set, lovingly compiled by the band's archivist David Lemieux and packaged by Rhino Records, collects the bands nine albums for Warner Brothers in newly remastered HDCD editions, loaded with bonus tracks, along with Birth of the Dead, a newly compiled two-cd set of live and studio material drawn from the Dead's pre-Warner years. While The Golden Road is too voluminous to go into in any significant detail here, there are a few highlights that bear mentioning. Chief among these highlights is the sound. The Grateful Dead were always audio innovators, and the improved sound quality of these remasters is almost reason enough to replace the previous cd issues (despite the set's hefty price tag). Both the folky, country leanings of American Beauty and Workingman's Dead and the hard-edged psychedelia of Anthem of the Sun and Live Dead benefit from the improved soundstaging and greater dynamics accorded by the remastering. (The Golden Road version is likely the closest we'll get to actually being in the room while "American Beauty" was being recorded). Of perhaps greater interest is the wealth of unreleased material included. From the opening cover of Gordon Lightfoot's "Early Morning Rain" on Birth of the Dead to the new tracks from the European tour of 1972, The Golden Road is a treasure trove. Lemieux obviously cherry-picked the vault for this one. While there are some dubious choices (I see little need for including the radio edit of "Truckin'," for example), it's hard to complain when the set also boasts live versions of two thirds of the Workingman's Dead album, and such rare gems as "The Stranger (Two Souls in Communion)" from Europe '72 and a lengthy live "Viola Lee Blues" appended to the band's debut (not to mention the two full discs of pre-Dead material to kick things off). The Golden Road is an immersive experience of the Grateful Dead at their peak. Somewhat overshadowed by the monolithic The Golden Road was the latest live release in the Grateful Dead's Vault series, Nightfall of Diamonds. The October 16, 1989 show at New Jersey's Meadowlands fell on guitarist Bob Weir's 42nd birthday, and the band rose to the occasion. The birthday boy kicks things off with a rare "Picasso Moon" opener. It's a solid, if unspectacular performance as the band finds its groove, leading into dynamic "Mississippi Half-Step Uptown Toodeloo." Everyone is in good form, with Garcia and bassist Phil Lesh particularly strong. It's a fairly standard first set of the time, highlighted by a surprisingly strong "Built To Last," a jammed out "Let It Grow," and a blistering "Deal" to take the show into a well-deserved intermission. Whatever was ingested to mark the special occasion found the band peaking in the second set, an astonishing suite of music. The set (and the second disc) opens with a bit of tuning, leading into those four repeating notes so dear to Deadheads' hearts. The arena explodes. It's only the third "Dark Star" of the decade, and it's a sweet one. The lengthy introduction, while not as epic as most of the late 60s and early 70s "Stars," is highlighted by Garcia's MIDI-sweetened leads. The set finds the guitarist playing with a jazzy spareness, each note hanging in the air, uncluttered and evocative. Garcia is in good voice, and when he hits the opening verse, the arena explodes anew. When the post-verse jam leads into a fearsome "Playin in The Band" we can tell it's a special night: two of the Dead's most savored jamming vehicles back-to-back, and that's only the beginning. The transition jam out of "Playin'" features an "Eleanor Rigby" tease, the band almost slipping into the Beatles' classic. Instead, the show just about goes off the rails with a ragged "Uncle John's Band." There's loose, and there's sloppy, and this one crosses the line. It's almost as if the choice of songs came as a surprise to the players: cues are missed, vocals botched. Somehow, though, it's all right. The very raggedness of the performance lends to the freewheeling quality of the set as a whole, and it's over quickly enough. As soon as it's begun the song is past, the band entering into the jammed out core of the second set. Neither "Drums," the percussion spotlight featuring Mickey Hart and Bill Kreutzmann, nor the experimental "Space" ventures too far into the darkness, but the jamming, highlighted by the restrained use of the MIDI effects, is brave and concise, almost a miniature of the Dead's more far-reaching explorations. Brett Mydland's "I Will Take You Home" emerges from the dark with a haunting beauty: a fresh breath of melody after the sonic assault. It's a personal favorite, and while the transition here isn't quite as magical as that on "Dozin' At The Knick," it's still a tremendous moment. Brett is in rough voice, but the emotional core of the song, a lullaby for his young daughter (was she in her accustomed place on her father's piano bench this night?) comes across strongly. The magic is broken by an ill-advised, but fiercely played, "I Need A Miracle" which leads into the second verse section of "Dark Star." "Attics of My Life" is a surprise out of "Dark Star," and while the harmonies are ragged the song is a rare treat. A reprise of "Playin' in The Band" brings the set to a close with a bang, a suitable climax to more than an hour's worth breathtaking playing. "We Bid You Goodnight" seems an appropriate encore. The three guitarists return to the stage sans instruments for the old Bahamian hymn, beautifully sung and touching, a perfect chaser for an intoxicating night. Nothing here rivals Live Dead or Europe '72, but Nightfall of Diamonds captures the later Dead on what seems to have been a very good night. While Grateful Dead Productions has spent the time since Garcia's death consolidating the band's commercial legacy with releases like the above, the band's music has been adopted by the culture as a whole. For a band as rooted in traditional music (folk, bluegrass and blues) as the Dead, it is perhaps the ultimate acknowledgment of their songwriting that they have become part of the American songbook themselves. Their songs have been covered by acts as diverse as Bob Dylan, Elvis Costello and Patti Smith (all of whom appear on Stolen Roses, a collection of Grateful Dead covers). Among the more interesting examples of this cultural permeation is the recent release of Wake the Dead, billed as "A Celtic Celebration Of The Songs Of The Grateful Dead." The album finds seven of California's finer Celtic musicians, led by Danny Carnahan on guitar, mandolin and fiddle, plunging into the Grateful Dead songbooks with pipes blazing. The result -- an amalgam of traditional and Celtic folk versions of the Dead songs, grouped with appropriate traditional pieces -- is striking and altogether more pleasant, though not quite all that it might have been. The album begins with its high point, a medley of "Banks of Lough Gowna" and "The Reunion" leading into a spirited version of "Friend of the Devil." That basic format is repeated through the album, to something of a diminishing effect. Ultimately, despite the passion of the playing, Wake the Dead is too respectful of its source material. Very little attempt is made at rearranging the Dead's originals, with the band content to merely substitute traditional Celtic stylings for the original backing. That being said, there's some tremendous music here. The playing is top notch, and "Sugaree" benefits from both a duet on the vocals and a plaintive pennywhistle, while "Deal" reels with a breakneck abandon. There are touching versions of "Bird Song" and "Black Muddy River," but "Bertha" suffers acutely from its too-close resemblance to the original. What is most striking about Wake the Dead is how well the songs translate to the hands of others. It's an impressive dual legacy that the Grateful Dead has left music lovers: an ongoing reexamination of their own music as well as source material for a new generation of performers. | March 2002 Robert Wiersema is a writer in Victoria, British Columbia.	If one were to look only at the cd shelves in their local music store, it would seem that the Grateful Dead are more active now than when they were actually a band.