If you're into intense jamming, Mark Keys guarantees you'll love the David Nelson Band.
"I offer a money-back guarantee any night I'm working the door," says Keys, who's helped the DNB get gigs in Northern California and Hawaii over the last 12 years. "I've only had one couple ask for their money back. It was in Hawaii...they were middle-aged tourists who'd wandered in and didn't know what they were in for."
What they were in for was for some of the most explosive jamming this side of Jerry Garcia.
Catch a DNB gig and you'll hear exploratory improvisation that's as "out there" as anything the Dead ever did. But you won't be seeing a cover band.
"It keeps all those American forms, bluegrass, blues and a little bit of jazz," says David Gans, who opened for the DNB during their 2010 Hawaii tour and hosts the nationally syndicated Grateful Dead Hour. "They're people who listen to each other and sort of architect this music together as they go.
"They're my favorite band in the universe."
Bob Minkin, a photographer who's shot a wide variety of rock and roll stars for Rolling Stone, Relix, Time Magazine and other major media, says the DNB is impossible to categorize.
"You've got your jazz, you've got your blues, you've got your country, and you have your acid rock, psychedelic or whatever," he says. "That's what I like about seeing the David Nelson Band.
"There's such variety...it's such a satisfying experience. They're basically my favorite band to see."
"People are unaware of what they're walking into when they see the David Nelson Band for the first time," adds Keys. "They expect the band to be like the Riders (New Riders of the Purple Sage)."
That's understandable, as David Nelson fronts the NRPS and is a founding member.
But the DNB is different.
"We don't necessarily fit a category because we're not going at it from that angle," Nelson says. "We're not going at it to try to exploit cowboy music or Grateful Dead-type music."
Much of the DNB sound is indeed reminiscent of the Dead or NRPS. However, they can and do veer far away from these genres.
Like the show at the Masonic Hall in Mill Valley, California, on the day Michael Jackson died.
In an impromptu tribute, the band opened the second set with a rousing medley of Jackson tunes, including snippets of "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'" and "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough."
In 2008 - in homage to an astrological alignment - they played a funky version of "The Dawning of the Age of Aquarius" at the Nelson Family Vineyards in Ukiah, California (this family isn't related to David Nelson).
And on Friday the 13th in 2009 at the Mill Valley Masonic Hall, they played the theme song of the "Munsters."
The David Nelson band is David Nelson on guitar and vocals; Mookie Siegel on keyboard, accordion and vocals; Barry Sless on pedal steel and guitar; Pete Sears on bass and vocals; and John Molo on drums (Joe Chirco, formerly of the Zen Tricksters, occasionally sits in for - and plays with - Molo).
The band has been together - though not solely with this particular lineup - since 1994. And during their first 12 years or so, they crisscrossed the country regularly.
Now, due to commitments some members have with other bands, they've been doing short tours two or three times a year.
Most of their performances are in Northern California. They're typically held in small venues - halls, theaters and bars that only have room for a couple of hundred or so
The faithful who attend are some of the most devoted fans you could ever imagine.
The diehard core base - about 100 people - drops everything during the annual DNB fall tour. Many catch the entire six- or seven-show run, which stretches from Eureka to Santa Cruz, with an occasional Lake Tahoe date thrown in.
For the last six years, the band has also toured Hawaii. These tours have taken place in January or February, running six or seven shows on Maui and the Big Island of Hawaii.
Like the Northern California gigs, the Hawaii performances have been held at small, intimate venues. And like those gigs, many of the band's diehard fans build vacations around them.
"It's very rare to see a band of this caliber in such small places," says Jasper MoonDancer of Chico, California, who - along with his wife Paige - are among the band's first fans. "It's like they're our own little secret."
Minkin agrees: "To see a band that good...in such intimate surroundings, I feel honored. I try to see them as much as I can."
Mark Douglass of Long Beach, California saw his first performance in the late 1990s, but didn't start seeing the band regularly for many years.
"They're very, very similar to the early Grateful Dead," he says. "You've got a core group of several hundred fans, and not too many people know about them outside of that.
"But those several hundred fans realize that they are the best band in the world and there's nothing like dancing to their music and experiencing their shows."
Jessica Del Bono of Santa Cruz first saw the band in 1997 at a festival in Southern California.
"I didn't know who the DNB were," recalls Del Bono, "but I saw them and I loved it and I danced forever."
She estimates that she's seen about 50 DNB shows so far and has turned on a number of friends to the band.
"Every friend that I've brought...absolutely loved it," she says, "no matter what kind of (musical) genre they were into."
Dan Turner of Boston first saw the DNB in 2007 at a Teaneck, New Jersey club called Mexicali Blues.
"I was on the Internet looking up to see where Barry Sless was playing," Turner recalls, "and saw he was at Mexicali Blues with David Nelson."
He drove down from Boston to see the band and was hooked.
"They just blew my mind," he says. "They have some of the best communication I've ever seen on stage."
He adds that he keeps his eye on the band's web site (NelsonBand.com) for news of their next run.
"If they do anything this summer, I'm coming out," he says.
Kelly of Santa Cruz caught the DNB for the first time in 2003 at the Avalon Ballroom in San Francisco.
Her next show will be her 100th.
"I can't believe I've seen that many shows," she laughs. It's so awesome!"
Not only has she seen the band perform 99 times, she's in the process of listing all these shows in an Excel spreadsheet - including venues, dates, band lineups and any special guests.
She was inspired to do all this because it occurred to her - while she was following the DNB 2010 Hawaii tour - that she was nearing her 100th show and that she needed to know exactly when it would be so she could properly commemorate the event.
"I thought about it..and realized I gotta count my shows, you know?" she says, laughing again. "I'm gonna have my 100th show and I gotta have a party!"
The band is just as enamored with their fans as their fans are of them.
"Every time we play it's like seeing old friends," says Sears, who replaced original DNB bass player Bill Laymon in 2005. "They give us the space and room we need to go for it."
"They're peerless," adds Molo. "We connect with them very well."
The core ingredient that gives the DNB its identity - indeed, the band's very foundation - is the songwriting of David Nelson.
"The strongest component of the David Nelson Band is Dave's songwriting," Molo says, "combined with the band's interpretation and chemistry."
Gans agrees and says Nelson's songwriting is what sets the DNB apart from other jam bands.
"I don't care how good your licks are, if your songs suck I'm gone," he says. "Nelson gets it and has a great ear for songs and an appreciation of the value of listening..."
Gans sees similarities between the DNB and early to mid 1970s Grateful Dead.
"If you listen to the early 1970s Grateful Dead - the period of Workingman's Dead, American Beauty and the newer songs of Europe, 72 - that band is what you'd call the Americana jam band period of the Grateful Dead," he says. "They settled into this amazing song-writing binge that lasted about half a dozen years and produced all these incredible American songs.
"I think the Nelson Band, as we hear them today, is kind of an extension of that. The common roots of Jerry and Nelson, I think, give rise to that."
The seeds of the first DNB songs were planted after Nelson left the NRPS in 1982 to pursue other musical opportunities (he rejoined the NRPS in 2005 and tours extensively with them).
It started with a routine visit to the Grateful Dead's head office to see his wife, Maruska, who was working there at the time.
That's when he noticed a computer on a table.
"I turned on the computer and was wondering, 'How do you get past that little smiling face?'" he says with a laugh. "I didn't' understand anything about computers, but at that same time, I had been paying attention to the computer music equipment market."
Digital drum machines had especially caught his eye.
"I'd read up a little bit on it, and found out that you could actually have a drum machine that can play parts and you can design the sequence yourself one beat at a time," he says. "I thought, 'Wow!' I want to try that!'"
So he went out and bought a drum machine.
"Then I realized it would be really cool to have a synthesizer to make sound," he says excitedly, "and then a computer, too...oh yeah!"
His wife gave him her old Apple computer. Soon afterward he bought a synthesizer to go with it.
And then he got his hands on a piece of gadgetry that would change his life - a sequencer.
It happened at a music store:
"I was looking at stuff and the guy there said, 'Oh, what you want is a sequencer program. That way you can operate all your synthesizers and drum machines, vocal tracks, live tracks, reverb, everything you've got.'"
He walked out of that store with a copy of "Master Tracks Pro," a sequencing program that could play up to 64 tracks of music.
For the next few years, Nelson became totally absorbed with his sequencer.
"That caused me to have a place where I could freely compose my ideas," he says. "And I'm telling you, it would turn me on so much, I couldn't believe it.
"I would wake up in the middle of the night having an idea and get up, get dressed, go into the room, start up the computer, fire up the trips factory and jot down a little song idea."
Robert Hunter helped him compose some of his new material.
"I would be corresponding with Hunter and Hunter says, 'Well, send me some tapes!'
"So I'd make him a tape of some of the music sequences and he would write me back lyrics for it."
He was also collaborating with his friend Earl Stillson, who would send him lyrics that he would write music for.
By early 1993, Nelson has a batch of tunes. But he hadn't yet considered when or where he would play them.
"I never thought of actually doing this," he says. "It was just to me, like, 'If, there was a chance, this is how I'd want it to be.'"
Right around that time, he and Sless - whom he hadn't met yet - had agreed to be part of "Gratefully Yours," a Grateful Dead tribute tour that was kicking off in Richmond, Virginia.
(Merl Saunders, Papa John Creach, Tom Constanten and Steve Kimock were also part of Gratefully Yours.)
Nelson and Sless - who has been in Cowboy Jazz, Kingfish, The Flying Other Brothers, the Rowan Brothers, Chazz Cats, Phil and Friends, and now, Moonalice - jammed together during a sound check and hit if off.
"We had a musical conversation thing going," Nelson recalls. "Our natural way of playing was linking up, it was interlaced.
"We both knew it, so we both go, 'Yeah, I want to do more gigs!"
They ended up playing a few more tours together with Gratefully Yours, which eventually morphed into a Dead cover band called Dead Ringers.
During one of those tours, they were driving around and listening to a tape of the music Nelson had recorded using his sequencer machine.
"I told him, 'Wow, man, this stuff is really great,'" Sless recalls. "'This is what we should be doing.'
"Why don't we get a band together and play your tunes?"
Nelson loved the idea, but confessed to being a little unsure of himself.
After all, he had never fronted a band before. What would he do, what would he say? Would people like his songs? How would they get gigs?
Sless assured him things would work out fine. He told him he loved his songs and was confident others would too. He also told him that he liked the way he connected with their audiences.
"He didn't say much, but I thought the way he spoke to the audience when we were in Dead Ringers always came off as being very organic," Sless says. "What he said was real; there was no put-on or anything."
As for getting gigs, Sless had booked plenty for Cowboy Jazz. He assured Nelson that he could do the same for their new band.
Over the next few months, Nelson played more of his songs for Sless, who suggested that they incorporate two musicians they had played with in Dead Ringers into the band: Bill Laymon on bass and Arthur Steinhorn on drums.
Nelson agreed they would be a good fit.
(From time to time, Charlie Crane would play drums with or for Steinhorn and later would take over for him completely. Vince Littleton of the Merl Saunders Rainforest Band, Greg Anton of Zero, and Jimmy Sanchez of Kingfish and the Roy Rogers Delta Rhythm Kings also played drums for the band. Molo became the band's main drummer in 2006.)
Now that they had a drummer and bass player, all they needed was someone to play keys.
A keyboard player came to mind after Sless heard one of Nelson's new songs, which he remembers having had a "cajun-zydeco" groove to it.
"I got this great keyboard player I think you'd really like," Sless told him. "His name is Mookie Siegel. He plays accordion and does the zydeco stuff really well."
So they had Siegel (Phil and Friends, Ratdog, Donna Jean and the Tricksters, Kingfish) meet Nelson and sit in on a Dead Ringers gig.
Soon he was the final piece in the DNB puzzle.
(Here's a bit of DNB trivia: Siegel, Sless, Steinhorn and Crane are all from Baltimore, went to the same high school together - at different times - and played together intermittently in various bands.)
Sless laughs when asked about his recollection of their first show.
It was the result of a last-minute cancellation.
"I had to scramble and find something else," he says. "I don't know how I found it, but I think it was called the Acorn Hotel in Allentown, Pennsylvania.
"It was a little tiny stage in a corner...(laughs)...the soundboard was on stage...things weren't the way they were supposed to be...
"There are some amusing stories around that first gig."
Siegel recalls their accommodations that night in Allentown were equally appalling.
"I don't remember the name of it, but it was a hellhole," he says, laughing. "There was soot and grime everywhere, a hole in the wall, rats...it was an inauspicious start for us."
That year, 1994, the DNB did three tours - two on the East Coast and one in Oregon.
"Gigs, gigs, gigs, gigs, gigs...it was a great tour," Nelson says, "But guess what? You had to brace yourself emotionally because some of the gigs had like, three people...12 people would be common.
"But we'd look at ourselves and say, 'Okay, we'll just keep playing, we can't expect everything, it's a new band.' So we just kept hittin' at it."
After the first couple of tours, he took a cassette tape of band highlights to his good friend Jerry Garcia.
"He's standing there on his big stairs," Nelson recalls. "We're talkin' a little bit and I hand him this tape and he's looking at it with his glasses real close and he says (perfect imitation of Garcia's voice), 'Is this you?'
"He puts it in his pocket, and later on I came and talked to him about it and he said, 'It's really great stuff.'"
Years before, Nelson had given Garcia a tape of his new songs, which featured Nelson playing guitar and singing, with the sequencer filling in the rest of the music.
Garcia had loved it and told him, "You gotta do something with that."
And so now he had with his new band. But the turnouts to their shows were so small! What, he asked Garcia, should he do about it?
He remembers Garcia telling him, "The way I see it, you just keep drawing until the page is all black. And then you tear off that page and you go to the next page and you start a drawing and you keep drawing and drawing and drawing and drawing until it's just covered with ink.
"And then you keep doing that (because) sooner or later somebody's gonna get it, and then when you feel that feeling - someone is getting it - play to them...just play to them."
Garcia's advice had a deep impact on Nelson.
"I thought, 'Wow!'" Nelson says. "That just sums it up, man.
"That's what kept me together in those early days when we didn't have a chance."
While he could have gone out and hired a promoter from the music industry, the band had made a commitment to never sell out to commercial interests.
"Usually when you do that," he says, "what happens is the industry eats you alive, chews you up and spits you out."
Instead they played what they wanted, confident their efforts would be appreciated.
"That's my first thing as an artist," Nelson says. "It has to be based on integrity.
"You've got to be true to your values."
Jasper and Paige MoonDancer had traveled around the country going to Grateful Dead shows for over 15 years. But now they sat in front of a TV, numb. They'd just heard the news that Jerry Garcia had died.
They figured their days of chasing the music as Dead Heads were over.
They packed up their purple touring bus - an old school bus with the top of a VW van welded on top - and headed out of Albuquerque toward Northern California.
It was a long, quiet trip.
In Santa Cruz, they pulled over and saw an interesting poster tacked up to a telephone pole. It announced that a Ron "Pig Pen" McKernan tribute concert - which they later learned had been scheduled before Garcia died - was to be held at Palookaville in Santa Cruz that evening.
They decided they might as well go, so they parked their bus in front of the venue and hung out.
As showtime drew near, they saw some guys hauling speakers and instruments from a truck, so they helped them unload.
It was David Nelson and his band.
After helping them, Jasper and Paige - still shellshocked over Garcia's death - went inside with low expectations for the show.
But the DNB proved exceptional. Jasper and Paige were thunderstruck and found themselves at the front of the stage, whirling around to the music with abandon.
In the middle of the set, with Sless wailing on guitar and the band jamming for all it was worth, Nelson's microphone fell right into Jasper's hands. He handed it up to Nelson and pointed to his psychedelic bus, which was clearly visible through a window.
"You see that bus out front there?" he shouted up to Nelson. "You're on it!"
He and Paige were rejuvenated. They now had hope that the DNB would fill the music void that Garcia's death appeared to have created.
Now their bus had reason to live.
Some months afterward, Sony TriStar Studios invited them to a private screening of a soon-to-be-released documentary about Dead Heads. It was called "Tie-Dyed - Rock n' Roll's Most Devoted Fans," which prominently featured the couple.
When they arrived, they were delighted to see Nelson there. After the screening, they talked for awhile.
"What did you ever want from Jerry?" Nelson asked them.
"Just a ticket," Jasper said.
Then he told Nelson about their adventures while touring to see the Dead, about picking up every Dead Head hitchhiker they had room for, about how they'd helped him fix their bus when it broke down, about all the brotherhood they'd experienced on the road.
Finally, Nelson said, "You want a ticket? Well, you've got that with me."
When Jasper and Paige got home, they told all their friends about the great new band they had just discovered. Some of them would join the couple on tours to see the band whenever - and wherever - they played.
Paige and Jasper suffered a terrible house fire over the holidays.
Now they're trying to rebuild their lives.
The first time Keys ever heard the DNB band was in 1998, at his wedding on the Big Island of Hawaii.
"I had a 90-minute tape of music," he says. "The first 45 minutes was to play before I said, 'I do.'
"But the tape ran out before we were finished, so I asked the sound guy to put something in."
That something was Keeper of the Key, a CD of a live 1995 DNB show. Keys and his new wife, Sheila, loved it.
"It literally changed my life," he says. "I started telling everybody that there was life after the Dead."
The following year, he lined up a short tour for the DNB and Zero on Maui, Oahu and the Big Island.
Although he's not the official DNB promoter or manager, he's been intermittently helping promote the band ever since.
Now he believes they have turned a big corner in their fortunes.
Their 2010 Hawaii tour is a case in point.
"Ticket sales were up more than 10 percent this year," Keys says. "We even had people from Japan come over."
There are other signs the DNB is becoming more popular.
In Northern California, the band is starting to outgrow some venues they've played at for many years. And some shows are selling out in advance - including four of the last five Mill Valley shows.
The growing popularity is evident elsewhere.
"We have also acquired a lot of new fans lately online...especially through the downloading of our shows at archive.org and btree.org," Siegel says. "We've had tens of thousands of our shows downloaded to date.
"The most downloaded show has been downloaded over 30,000 times."
Sless gives much of the credit for the band's growing popularity to Keys.
"I can only begin to describe what his importance to the growth and vibe of our scene has been," says Sless. "He's gone way beyond the role of a normal promoter to help foster the family atmosphere at our shows...
"He's found really cool places for us to play that have never had concerts before, nor the infrastructure to do so, and turned them into places that we and our fans love."
The DNB has endured many weird streaks of bad luck.
Their original bass player, Bill Laymon, had to quit due to a bout with typhus and subsequent complications.
During the 2009 Hawaii tour, Molo broke a toe, which forced him to play several shows with one foot.
Then there was the 2000 Magnolia Fest in Florida, where the DNB was opening for Little Feat.
The crowd was huge - 8,000 strong - and fired up.
Three songs into a fiery set, the promoter of the festival - who had just been let out of the hospital - passed out backstage.
Keys recalls what happened next: "The guy's wife runs up on the stage, grabs Nelson's microphone and starts screaming, 'I need help, I need a doctor right away!'
"It's really hard to recover from something like that, you know?"
It was almost, he says, like the band was cursed.
"We would go to a festival and it'd just be pouring sheets," he says. "And people would say, 'Oh man, you shoulda been here yesterday, it was gorgeous.'
"Then they'd finish their set and the sun would come out."
Perhaps the band's worst break was when Jerry Garcia died.
"I always feel that if Jerry had stayed around," Sears says, "he would have certainly had those guys opening for the Dead or something."
Gans believes that term is a misnomer most of the time. But not when it refers to the DNB.
"Most bands...aren't really jamming, they're taking turns playing solos," he says. "The Nelson Band doesn't do that.
"The Nelson Band is really listening and creating new stuff together and they take it wherever it goes."
Sless credits the addition of Sears (Jefferson Starship, Rod Stewart, Hot Tuna, and now Moonalice) and Molo (Bruce Hornsby and the Range, The Other Ones, Phil and Friends, Modereko, John Fogerty, and now Moonalice) for accentuating the band's ability to jump off into freeform jams.
"We're definitely more of a jam band with this lineup, Sless says. "The music is more free to go anywhere at any time. We don't try to force or control it."
"We reach some ridiculous high points that few bands experience," adds Sears. "But you can't try to do that; if you do, it doesn't happen."
Garcia was indirectly responsible for Sears getting into the DNB/
"It was in 1992 or 1993," Nelson says, "Garcia said, 'You gotta hook up with Pete Sears, you guys would be great together!'
"So I went to his house in Mill Valley and we had a great time. It didn't come to anything right away, but we did get together."
The first time they took the same stage was several years later when Sears, who was playing with Hot Tuna at the time, sat in on keyboard for Siegel.
But it wasn't until May of 2005 that Sears played bass for the DNB.
That happened at a three-day outdoor festival in Colorado called Maydaze. Laymon had become ill and was unable to attend the first day, leaving the DNB without a bass player.
Sears was at that festival as a keyboard player for the Flying Other Brothers; Sless played lead guitar and pedal steel guitar for the band as well (The Flying Other Brothers was a precursor to Moonalice).
"We were scrambling to find a bass player and Pete overheard us," Sless recalls. "And he said, 'Well, I play bass.'"
"I was somewhat familiar with the material, so I went ahead and played," Sears says. "We became an entity...it kind of stuck."
Laymon arrived the next day and finished out the festival on bass, but over the next few month his health deteriorated and Sears ended up taking over for him.
Molo began sitting in with the DNB in 2006, when the lineup frequently featured assorted guest musicians and was commonly called "David Nelson and Friends."
"We had done a couple of shows with them, with my band Modereko, and I was friends with Barry and Mookie," Molo recalls, adding that he had gotten to know Sless and Siegel through his tours with Phil Lesh and Friends.
He didn't know Nelson that well at the time, but was aware that he had played guitar on "Box of Rain" (American Beauty) and had collaborated on many other Dead tunes.
"Barry Sless had mentioned the possibility of me doing some gigs with them," Molo says, "and when the opportunity came I did it, and it just was a lot of fun."
Sless says Molo's opening to join the band came after Crane had indicated he was tiring of touring.
"So Mookie and I started fantasizing about how great it would be to get Molo in the band," Sless says, "and that's what happened."
Now he's their main drummer, although when there's a scheduling conflict, Chirco usually sits in.
For most of the year, the tour demands of the NRPS and Moonalice preclude the DNB from playing as many gigs as their fans would like.
But the band is considering playing other areas of the country.
While they wouldn't mind the exposure that would bring, they don't want it to come at the expense of the warm family vibe that's become a trademark of their performances.
"We want this thing to grow, but we would like it to grow organically so new fans can be embraced," says Siegel. "We want a scene that's safe for our fans, a place where they can freak freely."