“I know damn well not everyone can hang with The Dead. Especially if you just got your new Les Rallizes cdr in the mail or some ass grinding free jazz record that sounds like a nightmare chainsaw of horns tearing the asshole out through the mouth of every hippie record ever made. Let me put this record into perspective and suggest a method of listening to it. First off, this is one of the all time great driving records, so take it to the road. You and your woman or your fella in the pickup. And you slide him or her over onto the middle seat, legs off to the side of the stick shift, throw your arm around em, roll down the window so the dog can get its head out there and let go with some singin with/to him/her. This is not a jam record; its strength lies in the movement of its songs. They groove fast and beautiful and couldn’t give a fuck and capture the sound of road weariness turned to fourth-wind drug-induced hyper-awareness of the dark land outside sliding by in blur merged details under a boney full white moon that shone the way. Not home, just onward into the night. This record feels like Cocoa Puffs. Zaps your mind and releases your body. If you don’t like or don’t get the Dead I suggest you try them at the PCH or Highway 1 and Cocoa Puffs. Here’s what you do: Take your car, or borrow a car and grab your best love and hit the winding coastal highway around LA and Santa Barbara or Highway One between San Francisco and Monterey. You take it up to a pretty good speed, middle of the night, full moon, palm trees and Eucalyptus waving, ocean with the moonlight rolling on it slamming up against the side of the cliffs your riding. Get your love in the middle with arms wrapped around you, dog out the window with tongue out, you take your pot pipe and load it full of some of the meanest purple crystal ridden marijuana buds you ever saw, sprinkle a real generous pinch of good powder cocaine on top of the bud, toke away nice and slow and crank American Beauty. Be sure once you initially hit the pipe and melt the blow onto the grass to turn it side ways. I can’t remember why... “
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