The long, strange journey that is the Grateful Dead and its major offshoot, Dead & Company, truly turned gray with the passing of Bob Weir.
Although Jerry Garcia cast the longest shadow over the Dead legend with his dark, melodically complex songs and hazy, frayed vocals, Weir’s shadow was more translucent, melodically lighter and rhythmically astute. And his beautiful baritone voice carved a deeper groove through the expanse that was the Dead’s storytelling prowess at its peak – especially when “Bobby” raised that voice into a startling, broken angel falsetto. As for his rhythm guitar work, Weir’s McCoy Tyner-influenced tone allowed him to color jazzy outside the lines while retaining an unusual inner pulse. If Jerry was the psychedelic folk sage, Weir was the soulful country squire, qualities that were reflected in the young Dead-man’s solo albums and in the projects of groups beyond the Dead, such as Kingfish, Bobby and the Midnites and RatDog.
Rather than traipsing through the dense, lush fields of Grateful Dead and bootleg concert tapes of solo bands that could fill a football stadium, VarietyWeir’s best musical moments focus on a dreamy collection of tracks from the studio recordings.
Grateful Dead, “Viola Lee Blues” (1967)
Beginning with The Dead’s self-titled debut album, Weir and Garcia’s edgy blues guitars and childlike vocals blended together like a Mobius strip for more than 10 minutes of joyous, vibrant psychedelia, accompanied by the rumble of Pigpen’s grand organ at full blast. Their blend of vocals and strings was a joy to behold, whether in the harmonies of “Ripple” with Phil Lesh’s participation or the recent likes of “Throwing Stones.”
Grateful Dead, “Born with Crossed Eyes” (1968)
By “Anthem of the Sun,” the Dead’s second studio album, Weir had already begun to develop as a singer and songwriter. Creating this noisy, jazzy track all on his own, Weir zigzagged vocally through a cluttered arrangement with odd time changes.
Grateful Dead, “Truck'” (1970)
Sure, it’s the Dead’s most overplayed anthem, the most fun crowd to sing along to, and the most mainstream moment alongside “Touch of Gray.” But think back to the first time you heard this lazy, grooving song co-written by Garcia, Lesh, Weir and lyricist Robert Hunter: It’s Weir’s cold but searing vocals that keep “Truckin'” rolling, only gaining intensity when he shakily intones the line “livin’ on reds, vitamin C and cocaine.”
Bob Weir, “Cassidy” (1972)
So “Ace” may have been Bob Weir’s first solo album, but it was the rest of the Dead who supported him throughout and ultimately made the album’s best songs – such as “Black-Throated Wind”, “Mexicali Blues” and “Cassidy” (all three written with John Perry Barlow, Weir’s frequent co-writer) – into Dead concert favorites. Named in part for Neal Cassady, the Beat Generation icon whose spirit almost defined the Dead, Weir’s sinuous, tinkling, almost pop song is a marvel of two-part harmony, whether sung with Donna Jean Godchaux on “Ace” or with Brent Mydland on several Dead albums.
Grateful Dead, “Weather Report Suite” (1973)
The three tracks of Weir’s suite – Prelude, Part 1 and Part 2 (“Let it Grow”) – are, far from feeling broken, brought together in harmony and smoothness through the fluid waves of the Dead’s 1973 album “Wake of the Flood.” Contemplating passing seasons and dead flowers, Weir’s deep, lava lamp-like vocal flow is as sadly ruminative as Barlow’s lyrics. And yet Weir’s musical co-writing with folkie Eric Andersen, with support from new modal jazz-influenced Dead keyboardist Keith Godchaux, is bright and open.
Martin-Poisson, “Big Iron” (1976)
Showcasing his love of showy country, Weir pours all his heart and playful enthusiasm into Marty Robbins’ classic “Big Iron.” Although Robby Hoddinott is responsible for the track’s stinging guitar, the support of bassist Dave Torbert of New Riders of the Purple Sage elevates Weir and the song’s rhythmic backdrop to something exhilarating and downright wacky.
Grateful Dead, “Esteemed Prophet” (1977)
The album’s mesmerizing “Terrapin Station” was only made more complex by Weir’s bouncy, hectic baritone. The hazy, subtle, suite-like shifts in melody and tone of “Estimated Prophet,” with a set of lyrics dedicated to a reckless, but still charismatic, spiritual guru of anonymous origin, clearly stand out. One of Weir’s most enigmatic pieces, and undoubtedly one of his best.
Grateful Dead, “I Need a Miracle” (1978)
From the Dead’s swaggering album “Shakedown Street,” Weir delivers his most elegant and refined boogie-down as a confident vocalist. With almost shocking clarity, Weir, as vocalist, struts to the beat of guest harmonica player Matthew Kelly and transforms “Street” into a block party.
Grateful Dead, “Feel Like a Stranger” (1980)
While Jerry laid down his globular, blobby guitar squiggles that had become his signature Dead of today, Weir – the singer – warbled freely, blue-and-blue through a stuttering jazzy groove, until he and Jerry linked their fates in a truly family-friendly vocal harmonizing and a snappy, frenetic guitar solo at the end of the song.
Bob Weir, “Gonesville” (2016)
After years of live records with a cast of jazz elites (Rob Wasserman, Don Was) and the beginnings of Dead & Company, Weir emerges with a surprisingly gritty solo album, “Blue Mountain.” His best and catchiest song, “Gonesville,” featured Beat Gen-worthy lyrics about getting lost and loving it, along with a bluesy, stomping, swampy sound co-written by Josh Kauffman, Josh Ritter and Weir himself. Weir’s “hey hey hey” chorus is worth the price of admission alone.
