Culled from several shows taking place in the Pacific Northwest on summer tours of 1973 and 1974,
Believe It if You Need It
zeroes in on
the Grateful Dead
in a particularly playful and comfortable phase, with the Deadhead-populated region and
the Dead
's first taste of financial success giving their playing in this time a more carefree fluidity. Certainly by 1973, they had come a long way from their hand-to-mouth beginnings, establishing their own label, touring with an over-the-top sound system, and showing up to larger crowds every year. Even hassles from the law and tragedy in the form of founding member
Ron "Pigpen" McKernan
's death in the spring of 1973 existed in parallel with what would be some of the most fruitful times of the band's career, creatively and financially. The dichotomy between breezy comfort and weariness can be traced in moments of this massive collection. Looseness and abandon can be heard in the improvisations that fill out the collection, in particular the sloppy and shifting jamming on "Truckin'" (from Portland Memorial Coliseum, 5/19/74), which alternates between choogling boogie, jazz noodling, and greasy rhythm-heavy funk for almost 20 minutes. This same fearless exploration is present on selections from other concerts around the same time. "Eyes of the World" from a Vancouver date takes on a life of its own, reaching into territory both triumphant and mournful but never letting up its electric push. "Playing in the Band" from a 5/21/74 performance at the University of Washington in Seattle is nothing short of epic, even for
. This straightforward rocker was traditionally the launching point for
to blast off into unknown territory, but on this date they enter a 40-minute improvisation that leaves no stone unturned, taking turns of catharsis, reflection, listlessness, and glee before
Donna Godchaux
's yowling vocals re-introduce the original theme. The presentation of
is interesting, drawing material from concerts held over a year apart in a similar locale known for its love of
. While in theory the concept could illuminate connections between the band's creative energy and the Pacific Northwest, the set has some glaring inconsistencies that take away from the overall experience. Songs are cherry-picked from five different shows and presented in a non-chronological order, with recording and mix quality differing between shows. While some moments transcend (one of the more beautiful readings of "Bird Song" and a seemingly spontaneous breakdown into barbershop harmonies at the end of "He's Gone"), some performances are too comfortable.
Garcia
forgets the lyrics here and there, self-satisfied jams linger too long, and a bumbling, absent take on "Box of Rain" (Portland, 6/24/73) is the definition of phoned-in. Even with the odd presentation and occasional performance issues, this set captures
in what would be a short-lived period of playful release, grappling with both sadness and success through some of their most free and searching playing. ~ Fred Thomas