O P I N I O N
THE URBAN HIPPIE
By Irene Martin
I had planned to write this column a few months from now but real life happens and a moment presents itself. Bobby Weirs’ recent passing made me want to write this sooner rather than later.
I have been a Deadhead since I can remember, at least age 14 – if not younger. As the second youngest of seven kids, three of whom were variations of hippies, I was greatly influenced by their music. I remember so many bands playing all the time it’s hard to remember the first time I actually heard the Grateful Dead. But I know where I heard them most often and that was at my brother-in-law Danny’s house. Dan was the biggest Deadhead I’ve ever known and had tremendous influence on me and my love of the band. When the opportunity to attend my first show came up I jumped at it. And my long strange trip on the Golden Road to devotion began.
You will see shirts and signs almost anywhere in any language around the world that say “there is nothing like a Grateful Dead show!” And that is the tie-dyed truth. To quote some of their own lyrics, “They’re a band beyond description, like Jehovah’s favorite choir. People joining hand in hand, while the music plays the band. Lord they’re setting us on fire!”
What I do remember best about my first Grateful Dead show were the Deadheads. Dancing, twirling, colorful, happy, singing, clapping humans. I fell in love with the entire culture that was at that show. I was already on the road to hippiedom and this introduced me to the soundtrack of my life. As someone who was lucky enough to be a teenager in the ’70s I grew to love so many of the bands of that era. Too many to list here, except for maybe Sly and the family Stone, War, Yes, Cat Stevens, Bad Company … again, too many. But no matter who else I listened to, no matter what other concerts I attended I always came back to the Dead as my Happy Place. For 60 years now the Grateful Dead have been making music. They also fund environmental projects all over the world and sponsored an Olympic team that was broke with no money, participated in numerous fundraising concerts and established themselves as a band with a conscience and great big heart. And that still resonates with me.
Started in 1965 by Jerry Garcia, Bob Weir, Phil Lesch, Ron McKernan, Bill Kreutzmann and Mickey Hart, the band has defied classification as their music runs the gamut from country, bluegrass, rock, jam, experimental and so on. They also honor other artists’ songs that they are huge fans of themselves. I’ve often said if you take away their original songs, they would still be the best cover band on the planet. And they would be okay with that! They never strived to be a world famous rock band, although that’s exactly what they became. For them it was always all about the music. And the crowds. The Dead love the Deadheads as much as we love them. And you can feel it at every single show.
Over the years the band lineup changed as members passed (Pigpen and Brent) or got fired (Keith and Donna) and eventually Papa Bear himself, Jerry Garcia, lost his battle with addiction and died while in rehab. His poor body was worn out from life on the road and a long history of substance abuse disorder just gave up at age 53. I remember driving to work and hearing my favorite Philly DJ and worlds biggest Deadhead, Pierre Robert, sobbing on air. I pulled over and wondered what on earth? And then Pierre told me through his sobs that Jerry Garcia had died. I can’t fully express the feelings of sorrow and loss I felt and I sat and sobbed in my car along with Pierre.
Just when the Deadheads thought the party was over, up steps Bob Weir and takes the helm. It was rocky at first. The reconfigured band soldiered on under several names, Further, The Other Ones and the Dead. Musicians from various bands sat in and contributed and the music never stopped. The 2015 their 50th anniversary show was from Soldiers Fields in Chicago, the last venue Jerry played with Trey Anastasio from Fish doing a fantastic job covering Jerry’s parts. Amazing.
Then there were whispers in Deadheadland that there might be a new configuration of the band and a new tour!!! Dead and Company was brought forth and the Deadheads went nuts. The online arguments over John Mayer were lit and many Oldheads refused to give them a listen. I did however in 2016, and while I was so happy to hear my music and see my Deadheads again the music just wasn’t the same. But I persevered and as John Mayer began covering old Pigpen songs (Next Time You See Me, Big Boss Man) that hadn’t been heard in decades and Oteil Burbrige, the bass player, began to sing his own solo parts in his unique and lovely voice I knew the band was for real. Jeff Chementi is, in my humble opinion, the best keyboardist the band has ever had. Sorry Pigpen, Keith, Brent and Vince. You guys were great, but Jeff is next level!
So when I heard Bob Weir passed recently I was very sad. But not heartbroken. Bobby lived an incredible life. By the time he died at age 78 Bob had finally played longer without Jerry than with him, by one year. Thirty years with Jerry, 31 years without. At the time of his passing Bobby was as beloved as Jerry, perhaps more so. Bobby kept the music alive and I sincerely hope his project, Dead and Company, continues so that the Music Never Stops.
PEACE
About Urban Hippie Irene Martin: A middle-aged tie-dye wearin’, tree-hugging, hippie who is trying to leave the world a little better for having been here. She can be reached at ireneemartinother@gmail.com.