There’s this! It is a thing! You may purchase it, even though I was not asked to do the liner notes! Again!
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
Tag: 1966
Here’s a slightly easier to access version of the new Dead song (!) that FoTotD Jesse Jarnow dug out of the rehearsal tapes that just entered circulation.
Some thoughts:
- The beginning of the tune sounds EXACTLY like Steve Martin’s “Ramblin’ Guy” bit.
- Apparently, the question “How much should Phil be allowed to sing?” has been part of the woof and warp* of the Dead since the beginning.
- I’m a sucker for songs about Jerusalem.
- Can’t figure out all the lyrics, but I guarantee this song was written immediately after reading Heinlein’s Stranger in a Strange Land.
- Hey: new Dead song!
*Woof and weft? Warp and shlorp? Worf and Wu-Tang? I know that phrase has something to do with looms and weaving, but that’s as far as my knowledge stretches.
Hey, Bobby. What in God’s name are you doing?
“Looking spiffy.”
You look like the opera singer that Bugs Bunny got in a fight with.
“I’m beginning to get the feeling that a great deal of your worldview was shaped by cartoons.”
Just the good ones. So: what is this?
“Debutante ball. Daughter’s being presented to San Francisco society.”
…
That is the most gentile sentence I’ve ever heard.
“It is un-ethnic, yeah. Hey, uh: didn’t we play one of these things? My sister’s, right?”
Yeah.
“Phil had a Fender?”
Apparently.
“Don’t remember that. When was this?”
September of ’66.
“Huh.”
Yeah.
…
“If you start–”
SunRIIIIIIIIISE, sunset. SunRIIII–
“–singing we’re done. We’re done.”
Congratulations, Bobby. And to your wife, Natasha Monster.
“Thank you. Go away.”
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