“Didion1970” by Kathleen Ballard, Los Angeles Times is licensed under CC BY 4.0.

In 1967, a 32-year-old Joan Didion received an assignment from the Saturday Evening Post. Tasked with interviewing the Grateful Dead, the acclaimed writer turned up at the band’s floating home rehearsal space on the Sausalito waterfront, jotting down observations and creating a kaleidoscope scene that works to unpack “what’s going on” with the group during the Summer of Love. 

In the essay, Didion writes, “I told the Dead I was trying to figure out what was going on and one of them said, ‘When you find out, tell us.’ ‘It’s an abrupt mutation,’ another said.” Didion goes on to note the band’s recent return from a Los Angeles gig at the Cheetah, a concert they weren’t thrilled with, before offering further critique of differing venues like the Continental, a converted roller rink in Santa Clara, which comes with a warning from Garcia. 

A piece of the interview was published in the writer’s “Slouching Toward Bethlehem” essay collection, but only recently did a three-page draft surface. Sourced from the New York Public Library and located in the archive of Didion and her husband, John Gregory Dunne, it was shared in its current form on music writer Jeff Weiss’ POW Mag substack. 

The impending excerpt flaunts a piece of Grateful Dead history, offering a Bay Area time capsule suited in a flower crown and bohemian ideals, that follow, “The Dead have been together 2 years, but they all knew each other before that, playing in different rock and roll groups around the area.”

…

“We play at Davis, someplace like that—– they’re not really alive there. We got a dead curtain behind us. They bring us up because they hear that’s what’s happening. Not even their minds are moving. We can pick it up – it’s like playing to a brick wall, except worse, because this brick wall expects something and you don’t know what.” (Garcia.) “It’s horror,” somebody adds.

If they get on this scene about if – they – do – it – in – the – Panhandle – then – we’ll – do – it – in – the – Park, we should get together with [Janis Joplin and Big Brother & the Holding Company] and say fuck you, we’ll play together.”

“That’s right, it’s our trip, not these hippie merchants.”

“I think of it (he means the Park scene) as a gift of the bands to the people for supporting us the rest of the time –– they pay a lot of money at the Fillmore and Avalon.”

What they are objecting to here really is the plan of the Council for A Summer of Love (“the highest echelon of the power structure,” they call it) to have a program in the Park all summer. “Why should they program the Park?” “It’s like why should there be a musicians’ union, stuff like that.”