Greatest Stories Ever Told - "Mission In The Rain"
By David Dodd
Here’s the plan—each week, I will blog about a different song, focusing, usually, on the lyrics, but also on some other aspects of the song, including its overall impact—a truly subjective thing. Therefore, the best part, I would hope, would not be anything in particular that I might have to say, but rather, the conversation that may happen via the comments over the course of time—and since all the posts will stay up, you can feel free to weigh in any time on any of the songs! With Grateful Dead lyrics, there’s always a new and different take on what they bring up for each listener, it seems. (I’ll consider requests for particular songs—just private message me!)
I am going to postpone the song I had planned to write about this week (hang in there, Bolo24…), because of the performance I experienced last Saturday night. Furthur played the Greek Theater in Berkeley—an old haunt of mine, and they kind of blew me away with their rendition of “Mission in the Rain.” Even the occasional lyrical … discrepancy … could not diminish the song’s power.
Weir sang it. He started it pretty much unaccompanied—just his voice in that old Greek Theater space, and people actually shushed each other to get everyone to stop talking and listen. It worked. The place got real quiet. People realized what they were hearing.
Now, I’m not up on the regular Furthur setlists, but I do know that a live performance of “Mission in the Rain” was something I myself had never heard outside of a Jerry show, so it seemed like something special. And it was. It was one of those moments when the crowd at a show coalesces into a community of listeners, each of us, for the duration of the song, following the memories it called up or the admonitions it engendered.
One of the friends I was at the show with sat down and seemed to be going deep inside. I just stood there and let it soak in.
“Ten years ago I walked this street, my dreams were riding tall,
Tonight I would be thankful, Lord, for any dream at all…”
Are there any sadder lines in the Grateful Dead repertoire? Is there any stronger picture painted by Hunter of the human condition? There are companion pieces, surely: “Wharf Rat” seems to me to be one. And “Comes a Time.” And perhaps even “High Time.” But this song is so vivid—we can picture the scene, we can feel the rain, we can hear the bells. We are in San Francisco’s Mission District, whether we’ve actually been there or not.
This Hunter lyric was set to music by Garcia, probably in 1975, and released in 1976 on the Garcia solo album, Reflections. In an interview, Garcia said “Mission in the Rain” was “... a song that might be about me. It's my life; it's like a little piece of my life. Hunter writes me once in a while.” The performance on Reflections featured a classic Garcia Band lineup, and included Nicky Hopkins on piano, playing a part that perfectly complements the song.
Hunter, in a Relix interview, said "I used to live over in the Mission when I was just starting to write for the Dead full time. I wasn't living at 710, I was living over on 17th & Mission, and that was very much a portrait of that time: looking backward at ten years."
The Grateful Dead played it just five times in June 1976 before it became a staple of the Garcia Band repertoire, played nearly 250 times between October 1975 and April 1995, according to the Grateful Dead Family Discography.
It debuted on June 4, 1976 at the Paramount Theater in Portland, Oregon. (Interestingly, that show also featured the first “Cosmic Charlie” in five and a half years. They played their final “Cosmic Charlie three months later, in spite of a years-long Cosmic Charlie Campaign.) The final performance of “Mission in the Rain” was on June 29, at the Auditorium Theater in Chicago.
The Mission District in San Francisco is so named because it surrounds the 18th-century Spanish building, Mission Dolores, located between 16th and 17th on Dolores Street. According to the WPA Guide to California:
"...founded in 1776 by Father Junipero Serra. First named in honor of St. Francis of Assisi, common usage soon gave it the name of Mision de los Dolores from a nearby marsh known as Laguna de Nuestra Senora de los Dolores (Lagoon of Our Lady of Sorrows). The first mass was sung five days before the Declaration of Independence was signed at Philadelphia. The adobe building was begun in 1782 and is an unusual example of Spanish mission architecture.
"...Behind the mission in the high-walled, flower-covered graveyard are buried many of the famous dead of San Francisco's early days, ... The graves of Casey and Cora, hanged by the vigilantes in 1856, are a reminder of lawless days. Many of the graves are unmarked."
I’m assuming, for the sake of atmosphere and logic within the song, that there are mission bells in the old church. However, at least one listener has floated the idea that Hunter might be punning here, and that the “bells” were actually “belles,” and that he may have been referring to the practice of the oldest profession prevalent, at times, in the neighborhood. I’m unconvinced. I think it’s bells, pure and simple. That’s me: pure and simple.
There’s something about that ten-year interval. It’s a good handy milestone for looking backward. Another song that comes to mind with some of this same sentiment is Pink Floyd’s “Time,” from Dark Side of the Moon:
“And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.”
It’s a wake-up call, as I said earlier: an admonition.
So — anything you can think of you’d like to share, looking back over your own last ten years? Where were you ten years ago? Are you where you want to be now?
Hunter and Garcia bearing their souls in perfect harmony left quite
an indelible imprint on this sixteen year-old from 1977's soul.
Yes, MITR is one of the finest among the many fine Hunter/Garcia tunes. There is a glorious openness to it and the mysterious way that the relatively literal lyrics manage to pierce down to an essential feeling--a mark of songwriting of the highest order. Any more words I might have about it could hardly help.
David, at just about the very same moment you were touched by Bobby's rendition at the Greek (I'm jealous!), I came across this soaring JGB version 19780317, Passaic NJ.
http://youtu.be/H5pR1p35FyI (track 1)
As soon as I finished reading this it started raining. Im pretty far from the Mission but its still pretty weird.
Mission is one of the most poignant expressions of the deep sadness and acceptance (and enduring what-it-is-ness) that we all had to make peace with as the great wave of the Big Dreams receded back across the cobblestones into the sea. The mid-seventies weren't quite what we imagined them to be a decade earlier... and Mission in the Rain does indeed, as noted above, take us right onto those streets, lets us all walk alone, look around, feel the rain, and ponder how this is what it came to be. So rich, so nourishing, so affirming in a way, in accepting the loss.
(Eliza Gilkyson has another great one, not so tied to that time and place: "coming to the time in our lives when the little dream lives but the big dream dies; not for nothing..." )
Love Mission! Another one, among many that do, that evokes this type of imagery and introspection for me is Standing on the Moon. Especially when Ol' Jer was struggling towards the end but would blast out amazing and heartfelt vocals and a blisteringly soulful lead that made all of us hopeful for just one more day, year, song, note....
<3 and Miss ya Mission Man!
...always held a perfect tension, and allowed the song to bloom in a neat way. I love the anticipation of waiting to hear how John Kahn is going to approach that little bridge, often with a short pause and then that fat little bass line. It did sound better with his Fender, all warm and loping, than with the muffled thump of the Steinberger later on...
Responding to peoples' criticism of Jerry's vocals on that Anthem to Beauty video, Hunter said something to the effect of "I always thought Jerry had one of the quintessential American voices" or something like that. There is an honesty in the vocal on this song that for me really emphasizes that point. Love love love this tune.
JGB 8/16/84 Good Skates Roller Rink - East Setauket NY. My son would be born 22 years later to the day.
Still miss you Jerry, thanks for dripping sweat on us at this show. Only time I saw the song live.
No matter what comes down, the mission always looks the same
what can one say. another great one which is evocative on so many levels and never fails to resonate. i won't try to give it an explanation-i'll just go give it another spin
I think "Mission" will always be my favorite song about my favorite city. I also love the famous Tony Bennett and Scott McKenzie odes, but this one speaks to the Deadhead. Especially the 3/18/78 version.
In The Rain" on 7/21/11 for the first time in 38 years (to be more precise, the first Phil & Bob Mission), and yes, the old hippies in attendance at Mansfield, Ma. got a little weepy-eyed for that one. It was after that show I decided that Furthur was the real deal and worth pulling out the t-shirts for and doing one more tour as the boys weren't getting any younger. I was glad i did as I feel Furthur hit their peak during that tour. They were playing well and strong and calm blue skies followed the heads everywhere and you know how it can rain in Eugene and Red Rocks...
I always liked the way Jerry arranged Hunter's words in this song. He made something potentially maudlin and sleepy come alive by almost speaking the first two verses and then having the instruments really come in on the next.
I don't know if you'll get a lot of people talking about the last ten years. Like this song, it would be kind of an intensely personal thing. I swear, though, that Jerry sang, more often than not, "GET some satisfaction in the San Francisco rain..."
I think a lot of deadheads really love this song. While I heard Jerry play it I never heard him do it with the Grateful Dead, which I regret more than not hearing St. Stephen when I had a chance in '83.