Fact #184406

Don Lesser (audience) : Kleinhan's was a classical music hall in Allentown, the beat section of Buffalo where we were also staying. The premise was a joint experimental concert by the Grateful Dead, a band called the Yellow Brick Road, and the Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra, led by Lukas Foss.

Before the concert, we were walking around inside the hall, my friends Neil, Richy, Marc, and my girlfriend at the time, Terry. One thing led to another and Neil began talking to a young woman with wide liquid eyes who said, in response to his question, "Acid? You want acid? Someone gave these to me and told me to give them out." She gave Neil one and me one. They were pink tabs, so fresh the dust was flaking off. Neil ate his and I split mine with Terry.

The Yellow Brick Road started and they were terrible. A teeny-bopper band with no soul or interesting music. We waited through their set, things becoming more and more interesting. The acid, which I am convinced was Grateful Dead LSD, was the cleanest and purest I can ever remember. Clarity, liquid pictures, and a sense of understanding.

After a pause, the Philharmonic came on. Silence, then a single gong. Down the aisles came tuxedo'd men, each carrying a small triangle, hitting them in unison. Scary and funereal, it seemed to me like the old order which was death. We waited through the piece, trying very much to like it or at least escape from it, but then it was over.

Then they came out. They had to play an abbreviated set and I remember only Not Fade Away, The Other One and Lovelights (and I am only positive about Lovelights). But from the first chord, the room changed completely. Loud, bright electric guitars, two drummers, and soaring, happy music. The new order.

Accompanying the show were "Laser Lights", four oscilloscope roses, red, green, blue, and yellow, that swelled and changed with the music. I remember noticing that they were trying to tie the different colours to the different instruments, but that the music kept escaping them. 

When the music started, Terry and I leaped to our feet. No one in front of us did and when I looked around, only Neil was dancing. So we sat down again, dancing in our seats. After a couple of songs, we couldn't stand it and got up. This time we were not alone and soon there was a sea of heads and patrons, the former in liquid glory and the latter in evening dress, all dancing and clapping. Maybe this was Not Fade Away, which always meant more profound love than boyfriend-girlfriend stuff when the Dead did it. It was a night where I felt my consciousness lifted above the audience. The Dead were the conduit, but that they and the audience were being pulled by the music which came from elsewhere. (Port Chester, 1971, was another such evening where we would hear it, they would play it, and we would hear something new which they would then play.) Lovelight ended with a bang and we all looked around, amazed at what had just happened. In those days, there was a sharp line between them and us, but tonight it had been erased. The lights came on for Intermission, and the room had the loud buzz of a good party.

We wandered down front during the break. Bobby, Phil, and Jerry were playing, but more touching strings than playing songs. Like Garcia was playing the pulse of the room. Bobby's eyes went in different directions and when we invited him back to our friends' house in Allentown (they wouldn't mind, right?), he said he had to go back to the hotel. He popped a string, Garcia popped it back and then the three of them fell into the New Speedway Boogie riff. For a long time, I believed they invented it right then, but probably not. As always, the few times we got near to them, awe kept us tongue-tied. We simply stayed in their presence until intermission ended.

In the second half, the orchestra was split in two sections, the Yellow Brick Road was in the front left and the Dead were in the front right. Lukas Foss, the Philharmonic Director, led them on some orchestral space music, pointing to different sections of the musicians to have the music rise and fall.

James Brennan (reviewer, Buffalo Evening News) : The closing rock-Philharmonic challenge is the most exciting new concept of contemporary music. As the groups and orchestras jammed, the atmosphere was intensified with a laser-beam light show. Rapid patterns and curves of pure light chased along the walls in time with the music like frantic balls of yarn. During this experimental work, a really exciting thing happened - a rock audience finally listening to a symphony group on its own terms suddenly took the initiative and began making music themselves by imitating the instruments and calls of the musicians.

Don Lesser : Very experimental and not beatific, but after a while, it was over and the Dead did another set. I remember clearly a Philharmonic drummer sitting in with Billy, while Mickey played various percussion instruments around the stage. A second wave of good feeling that ended when the second Dead set did. They sent word that they were too tired for an encore and everybody got up to go. The Yellow Brick Road offered to play another set, but no one wanted them to and we kept walking.

One of the best yet one of the strangest concerts I've seen.
(Source : not known)