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Recorded in Bob Weir's Mill Valley home studio to celebrate the life of our dear friend Richard Newton. Words and music by John Lennon.
Imagine there's no heaven, It's easy if you try
No hell below us, above us only sky
Imagine all the people living for today
Imagine there's no countries, it isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for, and no religion too
Imagine all the people living life in peace
You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one
I hope some day you'll join us, and the world will be as one
Imagine no possessions, I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger, a brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people sharing all the world
You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one
I hope some day you'll join us, and the world will be as one
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Traditional, learned from the Grateful Dead. This tune had a long history before the Dead learned it from a 1927 recording of Blind Lemon Jefferson. But the Dead have a special way of doing it, and Bert took his cues from them when recording Soft Landings, a quiet solo album to soothe his mother Marcia’s last days.
I know you rider, gonna miss me when I'm gone
I know you rider, gonna miss me when I'm gone
Gonna miss your baby, from rolling in your arms
Lay down last night, Lord, I could not take my rest
Lay down last night, Lord, I could not take my rest
My mind was wandering like the wild geese in the West
The sun will shine in my back door some day
The sun will shine in my back door some day
March winds will blow all my troubles away
I wish I was a headlight on a north-bound train
I wish I was a headlight on a north-bound train
I'd shine my light through the cool Colorado rain
I know you rider, gonna miss me when I'm gone
I know you rider, gonna miss me when I'm gone
Gonna miss your baby, from rolling in your arms
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The pandemic has forced us all to play solo. This long strange trip is Bert alone with a loop pedal. Words by Robert Hunter, music by Jerry Garcia.
Let my inspiration flow, in token rhyme suggesting rhythm
That will not forsake me, till my tale is told and done
While the fire lights aglow, strange shadows from the flames will grow
Till things we've never seen will seem familiar
Shadows of a sailor forming winds both foul and fair, all swarm
Down in Carlisle he loved a lady many years ago
Here beside him stands a man, a soldier by the looks of him
Who came through many fights, but lost at love
While the story teller speaks, a door within the fire creaks
Suddenly flies open, and a girl is standing there
Eyes alight, with glowing hair, all that fancy paints as fair
She takes her fan and throws it in the lion's den
Which of you to gain me, tell, will risk uncertain pains of hell?
I will not forgive you if you will not take the chance
The sailor gave at least a try; the soldier, being much too wise,
Strategy was his strength, and not disaster
The sailor, coming out again, the lady fairly leapt at him
That's how it stands today. You decide if he was wise
The story teller makes no choice, soon you will not hear his voice
His job is to shed light, and not to master
Since the end is never told we pay the teller off in gold
In hopes he will come back, but he cannot be bought or sold
Inspiration, move me brightly
light the song with sense and color, hold away despair
more than this I will not ask, faced with mysteries dark and vast
statements just seem vain at last
Some rise, some fall, some climb to get to terrapin
Counting stars by candlelight, all are dim but one is bright
The spiral light of Venus rising first and shining best
On, from the northwest corner of a brand new crescent moon
While crickets and cicadas sing a rare and different tune
Terrapin station, in the shadow of the moon, terrapin station
And I know we'll be there soon, terrapin
I can't figure out, terrapin
if it's the end or beginning, terrapin
But the train's put it's brakes on, terrapin
And the whistle is screaming, terrapin
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4. |
Ripple (Live)
04:30
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In October 2019, Bert was asked to do a concert on the Stanford campus tracing the musical history of Stanford and Psychedelia. The Grateful Dead figured heavily in that history, and that same month we lost their main lyricist Robert Hunter. So this is how the concert started - Bert and his Stanford schoolmates singing Ripple - Hunter's favorite of all his lyrics.
If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine
And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung
Would you hear my voice come through the music?
Would you hold it near as it were your own?
It's a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken
Perhaps they're better left unsung
I don't know, don't really care
Let there be songs to fill the air
Ripple in still water
When there is no pebble tossed
Nor wind to blow
Reach out your hand if your cup be empty
If your cup is full, may it be again
Let it be known there is a fountain
That was not made by the hands of men
There is a road, no simple highway
Between the dawn and the dark of night
And if you go, no one may follow
That path is for your steps alone
Ripple in still water
When there is no pebble tossed
Nor wind to blow
You who choose to lead must follow
But if you fall, you fall alone
If you should stand, then who's to guide you?
If I knew the way I would take you home
Words by Robert Hunter, music by Jerry Garcia
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With no rehearsals, you have no choice but to listen and respond to each other in the moment. It’s a musical conversation from the start, and its 28 minutes say more about the unique energy of the FOBs than words ever could. Jack Straw and Playing in the Band words by Robert Hunter, music by Bob Weir. Queen Jane Approximately words and music by Bob Dylan.
We can share the women, we can share the wine
We can share what we got of yours 'cause we done shared all of mine
Keep a rolling, just a mile to go
Keep on rolling, my old buddy you're moving much too slow
I just jumped the watchman, right outside the fence
Took his ring, four bucks in change, ain't that heaven sent?
Hurts my ears to listen, Shannon, burns my eyes to see
Cut down a man in cold blood, Shannon, might as well be me
We used to play for silver, now we play for life
One's for sport and one's for blood at the point of a knife
Now the die is shaken, now the die must fall
There ain't a winner in this game who don't go home with all
Not with all...
Leaving Texas, fourth day of July
Sun so hot, clouds so low the eagles filled the sky
Catch the Detroit Lightning out of Santa Fe
Great Northern out of Cheyenne from sea to shining sea
Gotta get to Tulsa, first train we can ride
Got to settle one old score, and one small point of pride...
Ain't no place a man can hide, Shannon, keep him from the sun
Ain't no bed will give us rest, man, you keep us on the run
Jack Straw from Wichita cut his buddy down
Dug for him a shallow grave and layed his body down
Half a mile from Tucson by the morning light
One man gone and another to go
My old buddy you're moving much too slow
We can share the women, we can share the wine...
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Some folks trust to reason others trust to might,
I don't trust to nothin', but I know it comes out right.
Say it once again now, Whoa, I hope you'll understand
When it's done and over, Lord, a man is just a man.
Playin', playin' in the band. Daybreak, daybreak on the land.
Some folks look for answers others look for fights,
Some folks up in treetops just a looking for their kites.
Whoa, I can tell your future just look what's in your hand,
But I can't stop for nothin' I'm just playing in the band.
Playin', playin' in the band. Daybreak, daybreak on the land.
Standin' on a tower world at my command
You just keep a turnin' while I'm playing in the band.
And if a man among you got no sin upon his hand
Let him cast a stone at me for playing in the band.
Playin', playin' in the band. Daybreak, daybreak on the land.
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When your mother sends back all your invitations
And your father, to your sister he explains
That you're tired of yourself and all of your creations
Won't you come see me, Queen Jane?
Won't you come see me, Queen Jane?
Now, when all of the flower ladies want back what they have lent you
And the smell of their roses does not remain
And all of your children start to resent you
Won't you come see me, Queen Jane?
Won't you come see me, Queen Jane?
Now, when all the clowns that you have commissioned
Have died in battle or in vain
And you're sick of all this repetition
Won't you come see me, Queen Jane?
Won't you come see me, Queen Jane?
Oh, when all of your advisers heave their plastic
At your feet, to convince you of your pain
Trying to prove that your conclusions should be more drastic
Won't you come see me, Queen Jane?
Won't you come see me, Queen Jane?
Now, when all of the bandits that you turn your other cheek to
All lay down their bandanas and complain
And you want somebody you don't have to speak to
Won't you come see me, Queen Jane?
Ah, won't you come see me, Queen Jane?
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6. |
Stella Blue (Live)
08:23
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The subject of this Hunter/Garcia composition is still a mystery. Bert learned it from Pete Sears accompanying himself on piano, but likes to think it’s about a blue Stella guitar with rusty strings being all that’s left, near the end of a hard but hauntingly beautiful life. Words by Robert Hunter, music by Jerry Garcia.
All the years combine, and melt into a dream
a broken angel sings from a guitar
In the end there’s just a song, cryin' through the night
through all the broken dreams & vanished years
Stella blue. Stella blue.
When all the cards are down, and there’s nothin left to see
just the pavement left & broken dreams
In the end there’s just a song, come cryin' through the night
down every lonely street that’s ever been
Stella blue. Stella blue.
I’ve stayed in every blue light cheap hotel, can’t win for trying
Dust off those rusty strings just one more time, gotta make em shine, shine
It all rolls into one and nothing comes for free
nothing you can hold for very long
And when you hear that song, come cryin' like the wind
It seems that all this life was just a dream
Stella blue. Stella blue. Stella blue.
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Circle Back! a new box set featuring the Flying Other Brothers San Francisco, California
Three new albums for 2021. Skywriting revisits the best of six songwriters from the studio albums, Bert's Brew gathers 8 live and studio FOB tracks previously unreleased, and Alive and Grateful collects Dead-related gems from Bert's projects before and during the pandemic. ... more
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