By COLLIN GALLION

8-18 Media

Special to the Journal

Great googly moogly, troglodytes! It’s time once again for part 8 of Collin’s Guide to The Grateful Dead, your one stop shop for all your Grateful Dead wisdom and knowledge.

Since October is the birth month of both me (October 8th) and good ole’ Bobby Weir (October 16th), I figured for this column, we would talk a bit about the man, the myth, the legend himself and his 1972 solo album, “Ace.” While Bobby is most well known for being the rhythm guitarist of the Grateful Dead, there were times in Bobby’s life where he went out on his own and did his own thing. Whether it’d be his short lived country rock band, Kingfish, or his various side projects like Bobby and the Midnites, Rat Dog, and Bobby Weir and Wolf Bros, Bobby, you could say, has seen it all and done it all.

However, throughout his 50+ year career, Bobby has only released two official solo albums. The first, and the subject of today’s column, was “Ace” from 1972, and the second was “Blue Mountain” from 2016. I picked “Ace” for today, since this is not only my favorite Bobby record, but also one of my favorite Grateful Dead related records. For this column, we’ll be giving a history of the album, and the reasons why this is one of my all time favorites. So, with that said, let’s begin.

Beginning around 1971, Warner Bros. wanted the band to spread out and make their own solo albums, since the company knew how profitable the band was, especially after “Workingman’s Dead” and “American Beauty.” In 1972 alone, there were three solo albums: Jerry Garcia’s “Garcia,” Mickey Hart’s “Rolling Thunder,” and Bobby’s “Ace.” However, “Ace” was different from the other solo albums. For one, there were no session musicians. Everyone from the Grateful Dead, except for Pigpen, was featured on the album. Second, the time period. According to Dennis McNally’s biography “A Long, Strange Trip,” “Ace” had to be recorded and mixed within two and half weeks, meaning that Bobby and the band were on serious crunch time. While songs like “One More Saturday Night,” “Mexicali Blues,” and “Playing in The Band” were written well beforehand, songs like “Walk in The Sunshine” were written at the last minute. The album would release on May 1, 1972, just a few months before the band would engage in their Europe ’72 tour.

One of the big reasons why I love this album alone is because of Bobby’s right hand man, John Barlow. Barlow knew how to carefully and creatively infuse religion into his lyrics, as it’s made prominent in the album’s opening track, “Greatest Story Ever Told.” It’s as if each track on the album has a different, enriching story to tell, whether it’d be the story of a man trapped in the hands of a beautiful woman in “Mexicali Blues,” or the life story and the last farewells to Neal Cassady in “Cassidy.” Their lyrics make every song, except for “Walk in The Sunshine,” a total knockout, only made better by the talents of the band.

The other big reason for my love of this album are the slower ballads, like “Looks Like Rain” and “Cassidy.” While the album mainly consists of fast paced, groovy western songs, the slower songs are a good touch to the album’s feel. “Looks Like Rain,” in particular, would be my favorite, mainly for Bobby’s vocal range and the soft guitars that accompany his vocals. It’s softer on the ears in comparison to Bobby’s vocal cord-shattering “One More Saturday Night,” although that is an excellent rendition. It’s a nice song to listen to either when it’s the end of the day, or if you’re feeling depressed and you need something soft on the ears. While you could go for the superior “Weather Report Suite” or “Friend of The Devil,” “Looks Like Rain” is the perfect amount of energy needed when you have no energy at all.

Not to mention, the sheer fact that this was made in two and a half weeks is impressive on its own. The band went into this album with enthusiasm and passion, and when they came out, they still had that same amount of enthusiasm and passion. That’s the great thing about the Dead; no matter what album they’re doing, they always went in with a positive attitude and an open mind. Unless, of course, you’re arguing with Robert Hunter over the “Jumps like a Willys in four-wheel drive” lyric, then not so much. Moral of that story, don’t mess with Robert Hunter’s lyrics! Speaking of which…

Stay tuned for part 9 of Collin’s Guide to The Grateful Dead, where we’ll take a look into the life and legacy of lyricist Robert Hunter. Until then, stay weir’d!