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

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

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

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

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... ___ 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. ___ 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?

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.