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Ratdog :: 04.13.05 :: Kirby Center :: Wilkes-Barre, PA
As we were sitting in the Irish pub across the street performing our own personal "warm up" for the show, one of the customers had a copy of a Ratdog show from a few nights prior, and he insisted that the bartender put it on. While listening to this gem, both my buddy and I noticed it was on the mellow side. In fact, there were a lot of acoustics, but not a lot of horns to be heard or "electrics" to be electrified. Not that this is necessarily a bad thing - I just personally enjoy more of an upbeat show with bits of acoustic here and there. "Would tonight's show be like this," we wondered? Where were the horns? Which set was this? Were we just not paying attention to the disc closely enough? We pondered for a bit and then moved on with the groove as "hippie happy hour" continued, and the show time grew closer.
Bob Weir with Ratdog :: 04.13.05 :: Penn
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The band, comprised of Jay Lane on drums, Jeff Chimenti on keys, Mark Karan on guitar, Kenny Brooks on horns, Robin Sylvester on bass, and Bobby Weir on guitars, started things off with their regular opening jam session. As the crowd perked up and started to move with involuntary reflexive response, similar to the salivation of Pavlov's dog, that instrumental introductory jam effortlessly morphed into one of the Dead's more commercial friendly tracks, "Truckin'." It turned out to be a good choice for a steady and familiar transition from our world into theirs. We were in. We were there. And thankfully, so were the horns courtesy of Kenny Brooks who did a great job all night of puffing his cheeks and reddening his face to lay out those beautiful notes alongside the beautiful music.
From there, we were escorted gracefully into a passionate "Loser" and then, with pleasant surprise, into a soulful and bluesy "Take Me To The River, Josephine." Coming as a clear high-light of the evening Bobby was in the light, doing what he does best. The voice, the shorts, the beard, the presence — all flawless. I will spoil the ending now and say that this show was one of the better Ratdog shows I have ever seen or heard. The sound in the theater was mixed exactly where it should have been and the band was TIGHT (and thankfully, upbeat and electric for most of the evening). For the second half of the first set, there were sweet and smooth versions of "Lucky Enough," "Ramble On Rose," and "Wrong Way Feelin'" into a "Truckin'" jam, wrapping up with a very solid "Deal." Impressive and satisfying, but what did they have in store for us next?
Ratdog :: 04.13.05 :: Penn
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To begin the second set Bobby strolled out solo with an acoustic and mumbled something into the mic about "as promised." He then headed into "Blackbird," which is always great to hear and the perfect acoustic starter. Next Mark Karan and Robin Sylvester came out with their acoustic armaments. Robin and his huge bass looked like an ant trying to carry 100 times its weight in food. Naturally, he did it very well; he just looked disproportionate while he was doing it. Karan and Sylvester added their acoustic talents on "El Paso" and "Mississippi Half–Step." Then the transition came - that point in the show where everything was one. The music became so huge that it enveloped everything in its crashing waves of sound. Nobody in the audience seemed to be putting up a fight as we were hit and carried along by the rushing rapids of "The Other One" > "Help On The Way" (with A.J. Santella and Vadim Canby on percussion) > "Slipknot" > "Jam" (without Bob, Mark, and Robin for the first few minutes) > "Wharf Rat" > "Two Djinn" > "Slipknot," and finally, whew, into the set closer "Franklin's Tower." It was absolutely stunning. After a very short break, the band came out for the one and only encore, "Brokedown Palace." Now, I could sum all this up with a bunch of slick words, but the lovely young lady standing next to me did much better than that when she turned to me after the houselights came up and said, "I can go back to life now." I peacefully smiled at her in agreement, grabbed her hand, and said, "Sweetheart, this is life." We both nodded in happy hippie bliss and floated towards the back of the theater.
Words and Images by: Michael Savko
JamBase | Pennsylvania
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