Here are two related releases by Danny Carnahan and friends; one a Grateful Dead tribute, one an extended CD single of singer-songwriter material.
Once upon a time, back when Bill Graham was alive and each coast had its very own Fillmore, there was some splendid music evolving in the San Francisco Bay Area: Jefferson Airplane (and later Jefferson Starship and Hot Tuna), Quicksilver Messenger Service, and of course, the Grateful Dead. The Dead — besides boasting Jerry Garcia on lead guitar — had a lyricist named Robert Hunter. Early in 1970, Hunter was at the edge of a creative spurt of enviable proportions.
I was a fan of the Dead myself, back in those days. While never a Deadhead in the true sense, I knew them, hung out with them, mostly liked them as people, and seriously appreciated them musically. How in hell could anyone not appreciate what Hunter and Garcia were doing?
The earlier, psychedelic era stuff — “Dark Star”, “St. Stephen/The Eleven” and “Mountains of the Moon” especially, are iconic in my memory. But the “wow!” factor really started with Workingman’s Dead. There wasn’t one weak spot on the album, and when they followed that up with American Beauty a few months later, I nearly developed a case of permanent jaw-drop. The creative outpuring was staggering: “Cumberland Blues,” “Black Peter,” “Friend of the Devil,” “Easy Wind,” “Sugar Magnolia,” “Box of Rain,” “Attics of My Life,” “Ripple”…
Lyrics and music, they’d nailed it, straight down the line. The trend continued well into the ’70s: Europe ’72 had yet more of Garcia’s melodic sense, paired beautifully and heart-bendingly with Hunter’s lyrics.
This morning, nearly 40 years down the line, I downloaded a CD called Blue Light Cheap Hotel, by a Grateful Dead tribute band called Wake The Dead. I was aware of a certain internal resistance: I have some life-changing moments and memories associated with the originals, after all. But this is no generic tribute band, with some “but I studied every lick and play just like him!” Garcia knockoff. This is a band with a touch completely unlike the Grateful Dead. They’re clean and celtic, by way of elegant easy bluegrass. Make no mistake, their identity is their own.
The Dead covers on Blue Light Cheap Hotel run an interesting gamut of well-known to relatively obscure. They start with a cover of “Sugar Magnolia,” and I have to say, leading with this wasn’t the best choice. Many of us remember it when it first hit (I was there the night they premiered it live); it’s a gutpunch thunderstorm of a song done live, with Weir dragging the vocal runout to an orgasmic groin-deep crescendo and a driving beat. Wake The Dead plays it more as a bluegrass/pop fusion, and while it’s pleasant, it’s a bit too lightweight for my taste, and for my memories, too. This just isn’t the cooker the album needs to launch it.
Luckily, it picks up from there. There’s a gorgeous cover of “Lady With A Fan,” by a female singer with a lovely, plaintive voice, perfect for the piece; it has a very different feel than the original off Terrapin Station, sung by Garcia. “Farewell Angelina/Soir et Matin” are an exquisite pairing, blending together and leaving a lump in my throat.
Wake The Dead handles those odd congruent pairings with ease. The segues within “Tennessee Jed/East Tennessee Blues/Mississippi Halfstep Uptown Toodleoo” are complex and perfect, and the leadout (… across the Rio Grande-ee-o, across the lazy river …) left a thin chilly line of sweat at my hairline. The four-way movement of “Saint Stephen/The Old Bush/The Tattoo/The Okarina” was nice and complex, but I felt it was almost too much. While I appreciate the idea of twining those well-known Dead songs in with traditionals or other pieces for balance, “St. Stephen” stands on its own so well that the others seemed almost distracting. They follow that with a drop-dead gorgeous version of “Stella Blue,” as moving as it is evocative.
The song they seem to have had the most fun with, though, wasn’t a Dead cover at all. It’s a rollicking version of Jesse Stone’s “Don’t Let Go.” The CD’s penultimate number, it just kicks.
I’m not going to talk about them as musicians — if you’ve read this far, you’ll have figured out that every member of this band is a professional and a standout. But it takes more than professionalism to pull off what Wake The Dead has pulled off on Blue Light Cheap Hotel: taking an iconic band’s work and making it your own takes a visceral love of the source material.
And if they want to cover “Scarlet Begonias” or “Mountains of the Moon” or “Row Jimmy” or “Sugaree,” I’ve got room in my iTunes …
Celtic Americana, another effort from Danny Carnahan (he’s the guitarist for Wake the Dead) is a little four-song sampler. I have to admit that, on more than one level, this one simply didn’t grab me out of the gate. There’s no lack of competence or good material here; it’s simply too smooth and clean, and the result feels a bit on the thin side.
Of the four songs offered here, three went past me quickly and easily — nothing for me to get a grip on. But the fourth is a standout, leaving me humming the vocal and trying to work out Carnahan’s guitar part: “Fly My Way,” which boasts a haunting, memorable riff, beautifully executed guitar work and a lyric that resonated for me. It also probably didn’t hurt that Carnahan sings lead on that one; while Mary McLaughlin’s voice is very nice indeed, it doesn’t do good things for me as a lead vocal. As an underlying harmony, though, she’s fine.
It’s possible that both Wake the Dead and Camogie — like the Grateful Dead — work better in a live setting, where they can crank it up and get some energy back from the crowd.
(self-released, 2007)
(self-released, 2006)
