Blair’s Golden Road Blog: Here’s Where the Rainbow Ends
By Blair Jackson
Nearly two years and 90 blogs ago, we embarked on a remarkable mutual journey through the world of the Dead. At times, writing Blair’s Golden Road Blog and contributing regular features to Dead.net has felt like a wonderful continuation of putting out The Golden Road, the spirited Dead ’zine my wife, Regan, and I put out between 1984 and 1993.
Writing for this space, I’ve been able to freely explore an incredible variety of topics relating to the Grateful Dead and all the impressive surviving offshoots thriving today. I’ve had the opportunity to interview at length so many fantastic musicians from Furthur, Phil & Friends, RatDog and Mickey’s and Bill’s groups—all of them incredibly nice and interesting folks. These are all truly special people who have been touched by that GD mojo. I’ve been privileged to write about a mind-blowing array of transformative events, from Bob’s transfixing meld with the Marin Symphony, to various New Year’s extravaganzas, Phil’s remarkable 70th birthday concert, Wavy Gravy’s 75th, the Global Drum Project, various magical Rex benefits and so many more. We’ve talked about Dead-related books, movies and videos, debated myriad big and small issues related to the Dead Head community, and gone off on all sorts of strange and colorful tangents. And there was also a fairly large dose of nostalgia—memories, reflections, opinions shared and sometimes battled over.
This week’s column marks the end of Blair’s Golden Road Blog, and I want to sincerely thank you all for your input these past two years. To be honest, when I started the blog, I was worried that the discussions it would prompt might devolve into the sometimes bitter and acrimonious back-and-forth that is so common in discussion groups all over the Internet. I completely understand that this is the way of the modern world, but I don’t have to approve of it! Can’t we all just get along? Yes, we can can!
But I/we lucked out! The responses to nearly every topic I broached in the blog were informative, thoughtfully presented and remarkably free of invective. What a collection of stories you’ve shared with us — insightful, funny, scary, crazy; the whole emotional spectrum. Thanks for being so damn cool! You also have my eternal gratitude for turning me on to your favorite shows, CDs and other inspiring things that brighten your lives. For a guy who is supposedly an “expert” on all this, I have huge humbling gaps in my knowledge—hundreds of shows and even a few entire tours I’ve never heard a note from, sad to say. I’ve taken copious notes from your suggestions and they should keep me busy for a long time to come. And with any luck, you’ve learned a few things from me and your fellow fans along the way. Lord, you know we made a fine connection!
The Grateful Dead has been in the foreground of my life since I first saw the band in 1970 (talk to high school buddies I tortured with endless spins of Live Dead, Workingman’s Dead and American Beauty!), but most intensely since the beginning of the ’80s, when my show-going increased dramatically (thanks to the Dead playing at the Greek, Frost, Ventura, etc.) and wrote my first book about the band, The Music Never Stopped. The feedback that book elicited (dozens of hand-written letters; remember that art form?) led directly to my starting The Golden Road, which dominated nine amazing years of Regan’s and my life. That, in turn, prompted Viking Books to ask me to write Garcia: An American Life following Jerry’s death, a project that affected me more emotionally than any in my career. Its success led to other books (such as Grateful Dead Gear) and to a number of liner notes writing assignments, and even some production work on Grateful Dead and Garcia releases — If An American Life was my favorite project of the post-Grateful Dead era, the box set, All Good Things: Jerry Garcia Studio Sessions, was a close second. To be in a top-flight professional recording studio day after day for months, listening to hour after hour of Jerry in action was powerfully overwhelming. God, I miss Jerry.
It was also an honor to work on the 17-volume Road Trips series with David Lemieux, who has been creatively steering the Good Ship Grateful Dead through both calm and stormy waters in the post-Garcia era and has consistently done magnificent work to keep the flame alive. I was, frankly, disappointed that Road Trips was critically lambasted in some circles, but I stand by every choice that was made and I continue to believe that a strong anthology can be every bit the equal of a single hot show release. Happily, the Dave’s Picks series seems to be working for just about everyone. Another highlight for me was penning the main essay for The Complete Europe ’72 megabox. That was such a special world to live in for the months it took to put together.
Sometimes I feel as though my life has been one very long Grateful Dead show. There are jamming songs and short tunes, rockers and ballads, smooth transitions and noisy train wrecks; songs I don’t want to hear, others that arrive at the perfect moment, “space” that baffles and soothes; long lines, lots of waiting around and bathroom breaks; dashed expectations and miracles beyond wonder.
At some point around 40 years ago, “Playing in the Band” started rattling around in my head, and stayed there. There have been a thousand offshoots from that theme, but it never disappears completely, and the variations are unending. Like waves upon the sand.
I’ve long embraced the concept that the sound of the Grateful Dead, and their songs, are always out there, floating in the ether, and all we do is just lock onto it/them for brief or long periods, as we ourselves move through time and space. It’s all one “Dark Star,” one “Playing in the Band,” from the early days through the post-Jerry years, and we enter that zone both alone and together. Where does the time go? It’s right there, unfolding before you. How does the song go? Just like you think it does.
Take care, everybody! No doubt I’ll see you again a few exits down The Golden Road. In the immortal words of counterculture sage Scoop Nisker, “Question authority and question reality. Stay high but keep your priorities straight.”
And as my eternal role model, the ever-optimistic Tigger, put it, “Ta-ta for now!”
Listen to the river sing sweet songs.
Thanks Blair, love your stuff.
Let the words be yours I am done with mine...
Shall we go, you and I , while we can?? LOL
Thx for all the interesting & insightful writing here Blair. Thoroughly enjoyed it.
Always looked forward to it - like this morning, only to see that, sadly, you are "leaving"! :-(
Thx as well for the books yuo have authored, the liner notesm etc. Always good stuff.
Hopefully you have some fun & intersting stuff lined up in the future.
May I ask Blair - do you have anything special lined up??
if you are ever in my neck of the woods, stop by and say hey, LOL.
Thanks a bunch.
Good Luck to you and yours.
Thanks for all the hard work. Now you can go off and be sick of the Dead for awhile. I couldn't live and breathe this stuff 24/7 if I tried. The great thing is I always get to come back to a favorite show or song and I'm right back in the groove. "Every time I think I'm out, they pull me back in!"
Blair, you are one of the pre-eminent scribes of the Dead world. Your writings have been interesting, thought provoking, illuminating and fun to read. I was a subscriber to "The Golden Road", so I go back a ways. I have read , I think, all of your books, articles, blogs, notes over the years and have immensely enjoyed all of them as I know many of the fans and Heads have done. You are quiet concerning future participation in all things Dead, so I sincerely hope that your sign-off isn't a wide-rangeing sign-off as I will miss your contributions to future liner notes, editing selections and the like if that is the case. I will respect your right to privacy so I won't ask the obvious questions that are on my mind. I will simply wish you and yours the best.
Real interesting topics half the time. Nice to have everybody's opinions heard. If it was my blog i would not have touched the comment section. To each his own.
Thank you, Blair, for your major contributions to keeping that wonderful Lovelight burning brightly. Kudos to you for a job very well done.
Thanks for everything Blair. It has been a real joy to read your blogs these last two years.
I'm sorry to read this, Blair. I rarely commented on your blog but have read every one in the last year or so, and I've immensely enjoyed your liner notes to the various releases, not to mention An American Life. I hope that we'll encounter your insights in some other forum. It seems to me that your writing has always shown the emotional, very human connection to this music, and I'll miss that. My favorite example would be the liner notes to the Formerly the Warlocks boxset, in which I found myself in your shoes, walking around that lake in Oakland with your walkman, getting goosebumps along with the audience (20 years later!) that heard the opening notes of the revived "Dark Star". You will truly be missed around here.
It seems like you just got started on this blog business and you're already signing off! I read every dispatch and I will miss these insightful digressions and the lively commentary generated. Your strength is in the addition of giant doses of context. I hope you still plan to chime in with some liner notes now and again. How else will we know the backstory?
Maybe now you can break free of the conflict of selling product vs. critical discussion of the music. I don't know if that ever bothered you. I could not have done it. But you made a great cheerleader, and your voice will be missed, even if I did not always agree when opinions were offered. What is next? Tell us, please.