With a shout-out to Dean Bob Christgau, here's a round-up of the last few month's worth of Dead-related recordings.

Joe Gallant & Illuminati, "The Blues for Allah Project" (Knitting Factory). Not how to reconstruct the Dead as jazz; part of the problem has to be the "Blues for Allah" material. Despite its many supporters, including smart guy Phil Lesh, the collection has always sounded emotionally opaque and musically fussy to me. Joe Gallant's antique jazz fusion concepts and Ellen Christi's egregious, Flora-Purim-like scat vocals jar the nerves over and over. Hearing Todd Reynolds and Patti Weiss tear loose on violin is fun the first time around. Still, Deadheads would be right to brand this album irrelevant to what they love about the group. C+

Grateful Dead, "Dick's Picks Volume Four" (Grateful Dead, 3 CDs). From Fillmore East 2/13-14/70, this is an installment in the series of concert recordings, with almost inaudible technical imperfections, that the Dead organization is releasing. The engineer at these sessions, "Bear" (Owsley Stanley), notes that the songs featuring Pigpen McKernan included on the 1973 album "Bear's Choice" are not here for a good reason (fans may already own them), and a better reason (Warner Bros. does own the copyright), but he leaves out the best one (they stink). This set is in every way superior to the old selection. The vocal harmonies are ragged and the beat sometimes shakey, but the spirit of exploration rages throughout, and the Dead sound like happy rockers in a way they wouldn't even 10 years later. Highlights include the clelebrated "Feeling Groovy" version of "Dark Star," Bob Weir's most furious rendition of "Me and My Uncle" ("Left his dead ass by the side of the road"), and the sprightly but minor "Mason's Children," never put out on a regular album. B+

Grateful Dead, "Dick's Picks Volume Five" (Grateful Dead, 3 CDs). From Oakland Auditorium Arena (12/26/79), the first disc of this set is a hoot, with graceful flows from "Dire Wolf" through "Me and My Uncle" and "Big River" as well as "Alabama Getaway" into Chuck Berry's "Promised Land." But even here, an ill-considered choice to make "Friend of the Devil" a sluggish ballad breaks the continuity and the show's pulse crawls after "Jam 1" on disc two. This selection was reportedly released in response to fans' request for a Brent Mydland showcase. (That's right -- tinkling Brent Mydland.) A passable concert documentary, nothing more. B (Dick's Picks are available from Grateful Dead Mercantile Co., Box X, Novato, CA 94948, or call 1- 800-225-3323.)

Grateful Dead, "Concert at Madison Square Garden 09/22/93" (bootleg tape). The Dead's initial encounter with sax/clarinet monster David Murray, whose tootles remain tentative, brief and in the background, until he finds his way into the orbit of "Dark Star." Even so, his contributions (and to a far lesser extent, those of harmonica player James Cotton) are all that shakes a leg in the set. Reputed to be one of the finest Dead concerts of the '90s. This dozy thing? B-

David Murray Octet, "Dark Star: The Music of the Grateful Dead" (Astor Place). This is how to reconstruct the Dead as jazz. Murray and his gang regard the source material as simply six fun and fanciful tunes suitable for expert riffing workouts and improvisation. Every cut features solos packed with surprises and vibrant thought-in-action. On "Shakedown Street" and "Samson and Delilah," young drummer Renzell Merritt pounds the memory of Kreutzmann and Hart's work into a grease spot. James Zoller's plaintive trumpet and Murray's spooky bass clarinet help give the title track the new voices it's long needed. Murray's encyclopedic rave-up in "Estimated Prophet" perfectly complements his tender duet with Bob Weir on the guitarist's new "Shoulda Had Been Me." This is one of the bursting, exuberant testimonies the Dead implied but never reached. "Dark Star" should wow outsiders and fill Dead veterans with pride. A

Various, "Fire on the Mountain: Reggae Celebrates the Grateful Dead" (Pow Wow). Likely inspired by Burning Spear's cover of "Estimated Prophet" (which has now become part of his canon), and by estimated profit, this is painful in several ways. First, somebody forgot that "Estimated Prophet" was a reggae number when the Dead did it. Here, the musical conversions are ill-fitting and most singers sound like they would be more comfortable navigating the most esoteric pronouncements of Rastafarianism than Garcia/Hunter texts. Second, several of the participants -- the Mighty Diamonds, Joe Higgs, Michael Rose -- have delivered wondrous readings elsewhere that make the misfires and pandering here even sadder. Finally, the liner notes include frank remarks like: "They sent us a few songs but in all honesty, man, I couldn't relate to none of them" (David Hinds of Steel Pulse) and "I tried to put a little more meaning into it by singing it in the style I sing" (Toots Hibbert). Toots, by the way, turns in the only entirely enjoyable track with "Catfish John," a very distant runner-up to his old cover of John Denver's "Take Me Home, Country Roads." C

Various, "Furthur" (Hybrid). A sampler of tracks done by bands in this year's Furthur Festival. Four of the 10 tracks are available elsewhere, and one of them -- Los Lobos's "Bertha" -- is the peak number. Does replicate the ambience of the show, however. If you need a concert souvenir: B+. If you don't: C

Know of any bootleg recordings that should have made this list? Tell us in Table Talk.