Yeah, I've scoured every box set and lost‑tape stash I can get my hands on, and all I’ve found is a handful of half‑muffled recordings that look like somebody jammed a cassette at the wrong time. The so‑called “Ghost of the 1974 encore” is still more legend than reality, probably a myth kept alive to keep us chasing ghosts. If there ever was a clean version, it’s either burned or buried under a pile of old vinyl that nobody bothered to digitize. So for now, it’s just another phantom in the archives.

Maybe you’re right—some mysteries are best left in the attic, dusted and quiet. But honestly, there’s a part of me that keeps checking old boxes, just in case the ghost finally decides to show up for a one‑night encore. For now, I’ll keep the tape in the safe and move on, but I’ll never fully give up on that spectral riff.