The Grateful Dead
Grateful Dead tickets aren’t the first thing that spring to mind when we think about the phenomenon that is The Dead. In fact, the innumerable Dead tickets and assorted memorabilia, like Grateful Dead posters, Dead t-shirts, and Deadhead stickers sold to grateful Deadheads seem far removed from the original cosmic ideals of the band itself. So how did the Grateful Dead begin? And how did The Dead tickets become so popular?
The funky jug band known as The Warlocks gravitated together in the innocent ooze of early 1964, when pop bands wore suits and neatly cropped hair. The world was crying out for Grateful Dead tickets but it was crying in its sleep; it was an as-yet unconscious music, stirred into life by dreams and collective primeval memories. The Warlocks negotiated the muddy waters of the Rock world, slowly rising to the surface like a new type of cream. They changed their name to the Grateful Dead when they discovered they shared their name with another band. It was destined by adaptation, as was their musical style. The band adopted the tendency to embark on long jam sessions, meandering journeys into inner- and outer-space. They knew this was the future. Tickets to The Dead evolved, their unique blend of sounds acquiring form and substance at the hands of Jerry Garcia, Bob Weir, “Pigpen” McKernan and Phil Lesh.
After a few executive changes, this oddball hybrid relocated to a San Francisco neighborhood known as Haight-Ashbury. It was in “The Haight” that the above listed legends discovered their tantalizing synergy. The melodic total was far greater than the sum of its parts. The Dead tickets and merchandise of the future had to wait until this crew were good ‘n’ ready to unleash what they had on an unsuspecting world. Hippies and Grateful Dead tickets were a while over the horizon at that point, but things were happening. The area acquired a reputation as a place where progressive musicians met. The legendary “San Francisco Sound” was indeed forged on the psychedelic anvils of The Haight when bands like Jefferson Airplane and Big Brother & the Holding Company joined The Dead in their quest for enlightenment through music. The Dead tickets weren’t the only prerequisite for access to a Grateful Dead show; one had to be ultra-cool and hip to the shifts afoot in the airwaves. It also helped if you were a broad-minded soul, open to bizarre flights of fancy that might enhance the effect of this mind-blowing new sound. Grateful Dead tickets came with a guarantee of absolute bliss; their extended “family” of sound engineers, groupies and promoters made sure audiences were scooped off this terrestrial plane for a few powerful hours of euphoria and vertigo. And so the legend was born.
As San Francisco grew its image as a Hippie mecca and people in motion headed west, Grateful Dead tickets went on sale for real. Banjo playing Garcia sang with a voice edged with sunlight. Guitarist Bob Weir picked his notes like a meticulous, grazing unicorn. Organist “Pigpen” McKernan took people on trips with his fingertips. Multi-talented Phil Lesh trailed blurs as he jumped from one instrument to the next. Rhythm Devils Bill Kreutzmann and Mickey Hart provided an aural safety net with their solid, mystifying duets on drums. The Dead tickets sent the Hippies silly; a Grateful Dead concert was a transcendent experience and Grateful Dead tickets were craved by the famous as well as common Beatniks. Within a year, the Grateful Dead came to personify what it meant to be part of the 1960s counterculture. They were in every sense its figurehead.
