Jerry Garcia (1942-1995)

It is hard to believe it was fifteen years ago today that Jerry Garcia died. It still makes me profoundly sad to think about that awful day and I will always miss him.

As a memorial to one of the greatest musicians ever, the above is a two-part clip of Garcia singing one of his finest late-period songs at the very last Grateful Dead concert at Soldier Field, Chicago, IL on July 9, 1995. Of course, the “road song” is a hoary old rock-n-roll cliché, but “So Many Roads” is one of the more eloquent examples of the genre and this final performance’s ragged, nearly exhausted delivery only enhances the heart-rending tone of the song. One of the things that made Garcia so special was the way he could so vividly convey the deepest, most conflicted and complex emotional qualities of any given song. When Garcia sings in his raspy, wizened voice, you believe him. His musical setting transforms Robert Hunter’s bluesy borrowings into a stately, country-soul ballad and this performance of “So Many Roads” is utterly gut-wrenching. By the end, I always wind up sobbing like a baby. Thanks for all the music, Jer! There will never be another like you.

SO MANY ROADS

Thought I heard a blackbird singin’ up on Bluebird Hill
Call me a whinin’ boy if you will
Born where the sun don’t shine and I don’t deny my name
Got no place to go, ain’t that a shame?

Thought I heard that KC whistle moanin’ sweet and low
Thought I heard that KC when she blow
Down where the sun don’t shine underneath the Kokomo
Whinin’ boy—got no place else to go.

So many roads I tell you, so many roads I know
So many roads, so many roads
Mountain high, river wide, so many roads to ride
So many roads, so many roads

Thought I heard a jug band playin’ “If you don’t—who else will?”
From over on the far side of the hill
All I know the sun don’t shine and the rain refuse to fall
And you don’t seem to hear me when I call

Wind inside and the wind outside tangled in the window blind
Tell me why you treat me so unkind
Down where the sun don’t shine, lonely and I call your name
No place left to go, ain’t that a shame?

So many roads I tell you, New York to San Francisco
All I want is one to take me home
From the high road to the low, so many roads I know
So many roads, so many roads

From the land of the midnight sun where the ice blue roses glow
‘long those roads of gold and silver snow
Howlin’ wide or moanin’ low, so many roads I know
So many roads to ease my soul.

--Robert Hunter