The band was originally from Ann Arbor, Michigan, but several years ago moved to Berkeley.

"Man, the Berkeley blues scene is the best. On any given night you might have Hot Tuna, Jerry Garcia, James Cotton, Quicksilver, Elvin Bishop and the New Riders of the Purple Sage all playing around the area."

Over two years passed between the Rolling Stone article which heralded their arrival as the best band in Berkeley, and their first album.

"We are about 300 per cent better now than we were when we recorded the lost in the Ozone album. This new pedal steel player is so good he just keeps pushing the rest of us to get better."

The band probably couldn't play straight.

"If you got any questions to ask you better ask 'em now. Later on I'll be too fucked up to do anything but talk about philosophy."

The dressing room was a mass of people with one guiding impulse: to get lost in the ozone as quickly as possible.

"We get dosed to play on the national holidays. There are only three of them you know, Halloween, New Year's and the Fourth of July. Man, we get into some really weird stuff--Wooly Bully and shit like that."

A 20-gallon keg of beer was gone within minutes of the band's arrival.

"One night this freak with eyes about as big as silver dollars give the group this bottle of Boone's Farm. It was full, but the seal had been broken. It didn't worry us too much, but it turned out that it had about a hundred hits of PCP in it. Anyway, we were passing it around and Billy C., the lead singer, just had to finish it off, so he killed the last couple of slugs, the part with most of the PCP in it. We went on stage, just playin' right along, when Billy C. passed out and fell off stage. The lead guitarist started singing and then bam, he passed out. Fifteen seconds later the rhythm guitarist sat down and said, 'Hey, I don't even know where I am'. That's when I stopped the concert. The doctor just barely pulled Billy C. through."

The grass never quit circulating.

"Dope that smells like piss tastes really fine."

A case of home brew disappeared long before the concert started.

"Hey, man, you'd better make the next number mellow, 'cause I'm about to pass out."

Then when they hit the stage there was another case of Falstaff waiting, but not neglected.

"About that second set--I had it all together, but I forgot it."

In spite of this, or maybe even because of it, the group played with the ease and assurance of a really tight band.

"This first song was done by Johnny Horton; after that we got a Bo Diddley number. We're going to do the Johnny Horton song like Bo Diddley and the Bo Diddley song like Don Covay...Actually, this is just another ballad."

I never thought I'd see anyone who enjoyed playing for an audience as much as Jerry Garcia, but I saw eight of them Tuesday night.

"Well, before I came on stage I smoked about a half pound of something, and drank a few pints of something else. But I'm just going to keep on boogie-ing."