Dead Again

Glen Phillips was performing in a small venue in Philadelphia.  This was after he was the lead singer of Toad the Wet Sprocket.  I want to say that it was the late, late 90s.  Opening for him was this attractive, young dude which is why all of the college girls were there.  Toad was a bit more of an acquired taste and not still terribly popular.  This opener was that solo, coffee-house guitarist who, more typically, made the rounds on college campuses.  His voice was Dave Matthews-esque.  His lyrics were predictable and not necessarily complex or deep almost to the point of cheesy.  However, his guitar chops were ridiculous.  I remember him playing a number or two with Phillips where Phillips was all about capo and chords, and the kid-opener was just absolutely shredding the guitar.  What’s amazing is that, just about a month later, sitting in a movie theater, I heard one of this kid’s songs…something that I had grabbed from Napster in a bid to hear more of that incredible guitar work (a fail).  “Your Body is a Wonderland” played before whatever movie I was seeing and I was shocked that someone I had just seen in a bar-sized club was finally making it…with something as saccharine and simple as this particular song.  And, from then on, John Mayer blew the hell up. 

Fast forward to last Saturday night, where performing with Grateful Dead founders Bob Weir, Mickey Hart and Bill Kreutzmann (to a lesser extent, Donna Jean) at Citi Field in Queens, was Mayer...this time lending his guitar chops to the restructured Dead & Company.  And, it didn’t suck.  Fortunately for us (the audience), the Dead, as lyrical as they can be, tend to rely on the music more than the sung verse.  And, after 50 years, the music is still king.  Mayer, like Trey Anastasio a year ago, has been thrust into the lead (read: Jerry) guitar role, and therefore is a main focus of nearly each song.  Jerry Garcia’s sound was unique, and it was touched on here, with similar guitar effects in order to provide the classically nuanced flavor of Dead shows past.  Mayer held his own, playing the scripted melodies followed by rampant, blues-inspired improvisation which was/is a cornerstone of the jam band.  However, as to be expected, it was different.  Mayer played with a velocity that Jerry might have been able to replicate were he sober and focused (never happened).  Mayer’s style was that of implied impatience…get as many notes in this run as possible.  And, as a consummate musician, JM was able to do so with precision and accuracy.  He didn’t flub a note.  He was always in synch with the band, in the right key and made his entrances and flourishes with an exactness that belied his youth (he’s 38).

Jerry Garcia didn’t have such compunctions about accuracy or being precise.  It is/was what gave the Grateful Dead such a unique laid-back sound.  Evolving as a music group around the time of Dylan, vocal stylings became less important than the music and lyrics themselves, and Jerry (like Dylan) wasn’t the best singer.  That honor would go to Bobby in my opinion (Pigpen as a strong second).  With that standard set in the minds of Heads, John Mayer appeared too clean and/or too able.  His voice didn’t waver or crack.  Dude was “on” and thusly, his part came off as a departure from the sexagenarians he was playing with, plus Oteil Burbridge (51) and Jeff Chimenti (48). 

But, I’ll say this: in 20 some years, the music will (hopefully) still be as relevant to me as it is today.  It's been 50 years and they still fill a stadium.  And, I’m going to want to see it performed.  There may be a time when John Mayer’s sole qualification will be that he did, in fact, play with the originators of the genre.  He played with the Grateful Dead, man, and he may be the one to carry the torch for years to come.  I find myself really happy to have gone after initially having doubts about this “new” dude sitting in with the greats.  The set-list was strong, favorites were played, and even Donna Jean was kept in check, her mic being well regulated by the sound engineer.  In 20+ years, I’m going to be the guy telling my son that “Mayer sounds just like Jerry” and by then, my sexagenarian brain will believe it to be so, over the moon to still be able to hear live Grateful Dead music.  And, who knows, by then its popularity may have waned, where once again, I’ll be seeing John Mayer in a small club in Philadelphia, playing to a slightly different (older) crowd than last time, still marveling at his musicianship while giving him a pass for his voice.

JamBase's review of the show is here, but it's less important.