June 15, 2003 Bonnaroo Mansfield, TN Tennessee, Tennessee, ain't no place I'd rather be. Baby won't you car-ry me, back to Tennessee... Let the games begin...we are ready in body and spirit for our excellent summer adventure. The air is moist and pungent with the sweet smell of the South. The earth here has a flavor unto itself. Somehow the magnolias grow a little larger and sweeter here... If I close my eyes, I can tell I'm south of the Mason Dixon. My pheromones are in overdrive. After my flight arrives in Nashville we all head out to see our tour bus. My bus mates are my wife Caryl, our daughter Reya, her friend Emily and my trusty henchman Howard. This will be our home away from home. What will it look like, sound like? Our driver Tom meets us downstairs in the lobby of the hotel for our first look. It's a 2002 Prevost, the Rolls Royce of buses. Surround sound, DVD front and back, bathroom and shower with a full kitchen. The girls hop around and choose their bunks. What a hoot. The first night before a tour is always a little nervous for me, no matter how many tours, how many years, it is always the same. What will the road bring? Have I prepared properly? What adventures will pop up that could never have been imagined? The beginning of a road tour is always filled with expectation. Tonight sleep is elusive, so I walk the streets. This town comes alive with The ghosts of all the musicians who have come here with all their hopes and dreams. After all, this part of the country birthed rock n roll. It is what Mesopotamia was to the ancient world, Memphis was the place it all rolled together to make a great gumbo of music. This is where the powerful trance music of West Africa came together in the fields and front porches of the Delta. The musical trade winds blew hard from Bahia in Brazil, traveling up through Central America to the Caribbean, to Haiti and Cuba and finally arriving at our shores in New Orleans. In places like Congo Square and Lake Ponchartrain, where the slaves were first allowed to practice "their" music, the upper class whites would come to see this spectacle, but had no idea that this would evolve into American popular music. This voodoo based music would transform the South, and the Mississippi, the mother of rivers, would be it's cradle and carry its message to the cities, towns and porches of the New World. With Tennessee stretching from the Appalachian Mountains to the Mississippi, it made the state a natural nexus of the African music coming through New Orleans and the hollers and folk songs that moved from the East. It was a few miles north of here, just over the border in Kentucky, where they had the great revival meeting in July 1800. The country was young and fresh, and the old authority was over, and you could have your own relationship with the deity, and hoot and holler and him (or her if your prefer), and 20,000 came, a third of the state. It set off more revivals and hooting and hollering, and getting down, and treating the lord like a pal and dear friend spread east and south like wildfire in what came to be called the great awakening. That spirit took root and jerry lee and Elvis were reared in it as well as BB King and Howlin'Wolf. The songs and "hollers" of Beale street, the barn dances where the pickers and singers where performing their ballads led the way to the music that spawned the Grateful Dead. Jug bands sprung up everywhere, WC Handy, had his first hit" Memphis blues". Beale Street was alive 24/7. Ralph Peer and a dozen other pioneer songcatching pioneers set up portable studios and began to record performers, worried that that new medium, radio, was about to steal all of this new "mountain music". The music of "blues boy" B.B King, Jerry Lee Lewis and many more sprang forth from the soul of the Appalachian Mountains to the Delta where the sound of the south was ringing out. SAM PHILLIPS' Sun Records was born in the 50's, putting this music on records that were heard round the world. Howlin Wolf, Muddy Waters, Bobby Blue Bland and Elvis were all about to rock our world. Take a ride in time back to 1945 and look down that street of pawnshops and flophouses. Little Elvis is enjoying a rare visit to Beale. There's harmonica frank, battered Gibson guitar, harmonica stuck in his moth like a cigar, and he somehow sings around it, "she's been treatin' me like a dog, got me humpin' like a big bull frog..." Frank's guitar has an insistent, choked, slamming beat, and people move their feet, swing their arms, and wiggle. Little Elvis likes it. He likes it a lot. A bit farther in time down that memory alley stands a tall black man with a two gallon crock jug attached to this shoulder, playing a five string banjo, and alternating singing with blowing bass notes from the jug. A wizened little fellow has an endless array of notes pouring from a harmonica while a skinny guy in a slouch hat thumps a guitar and a chubby washtub bass man jerks his one string, giggles, and sometimes kicks the tub. The music soars, as happy as a Mississippi mocking bird in mating season. This is Gus cannon and the memphis jug band, organized by the deity a generation or two after the folks up at cane ridge learned to get down, a great blessing bestowed upon our nation by way of Memphis. [Be sure to see the Local Legacy entry on Memphis Blues] In Nashville, Johnny Cash, Chet Atkins, the Carter Family, Jimmy Rodgers were all performing at the Grand Ole Opry. Again it was The songcatchers who nailed the sound to wax, metal parts, shellac, and vinyl and captured forever these amazing originals. This was seat of the pants recordings and was the birth of American Music. Hillbilly was here to stay. Music City was spittin it out and we were diggin it and movin to a new groove. In the 60's Stax/Volt Records would electrify and put Memphis soul on the map, making Otis Redding, Rufus Thomas, Sam and Dave, and Booker T and the MG's the music of my childhood. The genie was now out of the bottle. At Bonnaroo... The festival takes its name from a Dr. John record, Destitively Bonnaroo. Best record he ever made. Somehow it went under the radar, but this is as good as it gets. "High steppin' mama, keep on foxin with your foxy self", the good Dr growls. He is a work of genius for sure. What a sight, a valley of folks all tied together in the spirit of the music, the tents, the kids, the families enjoying 3 beautiful days of music. There are all kinds of music here, the Allman Bros., Galactic, Neil Young, Sonic Youth, and Warren Haynes just loved the vibe of the whole thing. Mike Gordon from Phish was a nice hang backstage, and the Godfather himself, James Brown stood stage left and got some Dead music in his ear for the first time. His set was energetic and soulful for a 70-year-old, a living testament to the power and spirit of the groove. He has cleaned up his personal life I was told, and is strong and fearless. Bless his soul. He was the first electric band to have 3 trap drummers in the 60's and was a model for Bill and I when we first started. No sound check tonight. Flying by the seat of our pants is exciting and a bit dangerous in front of 80,000 plus souls. The bugs were fierceÉeating me up at will. The set was energetic and exploratory with a fine space and drums. I had my moment with the beam, no sex as she has to be warmed up at first. Bill and I are locked tight in the groove and Phil and Bob are talking the talk. Jimmy was a bobbin and a weavin his spell and the keyboards, all 186 keys, were chattering away. Rob and Jeff (who I've nicknamed Sally after "Mustang Sally" were mind melding. Joan sang so well on Sugaree. She then walked out into the space zone and sang an opera type of thing. Sounded just right. Reminded me of Kathy Berberian, Berio's wife. The great electronic music composer and Phil's music teacher, Berio passed away last month and Joan's opera in the mist of this chaos brought her memory back to me. Joan is getting into the spirit of the free form that we love so dearly. China Doll was a standout, almost a cappella as Bill and I laid way back just digging the sweet, sweet harmonies. St Stephen had the "high green chilly winds" in the middle. We probably haven't done this section since 1969. Phil's band has done it, but not us. I imagine there were many young folks out there who never heard Grateful Dead music live. They got some tonight. We were in the spirit at Bonnaroo and it felt warm and cuddly with some really tender moments along the way. The gods were smiling under the full moon. Bobby's oldest daughter, Monet, was the star of the first set. She stood next to Bob in her tutu, blond wig and wand. She became the fairy princess blessing the crowd and bringing sweet vibes to our stage.