Think of The Grateful Dead and usually dubious pleasures such as interminable blues jams, stoner wisdom, free festivals, love-ins and (at a push) Jack Kerouac spring to mind. With the exception of the latter, these things are enough to have this dyed-in-the-wool punk rocker reaching for any rifles, rocket launchers and grenades he can lay his hands on. Sudden death is too good for 'em, basically.
Yet here's your reviewer, still of (relatively) sound mind about to heap praise on an ex-member of this most singular (and peculiar) of all American rock institutions. W&H, are you losing your mind, you may well ask, but really further examination here shows why "Weir Here - The Best Of Bob Weir" is both a fine 2CD retrospective and a decent 2 hour plus compendium for the casual listener who could actually do a lot worse that let a bit of Bob into their life.
What makes your reviewer warm to Bob far more than his Dead compatriots is basically his ability to write concise, disciplined tunes. It's mostly down to him that The Dead had any pop edge at all and I would suspect he had a hand in helping shape the band's forays into simpler, country-based material such as their mini-renaissance period circa "Workingman's Dead" and "American Beauty."
Thus, "Weir Here..." presents a surprisingly moreish selection of Bob's solo wares from roughly 1972 - 2003. In typical convoluted Dead lore, his 'solo' works were often conceived with other members of the band in tow (usually during breaks from the Dead's unbelievable touring schedule) and the tracks from '72's "Ace" which open CD1 are actually recorded with the whole band backing Bob up, so calling this 'solo' work is pushing it a bit.
Nonetheless, CD1 (the studio cull) is a consistent, satisfying listen, showcasing Weir's inventive and naturally melodic skills. His rootsy side is showed off to good effect with the tricksy, harmony-laden "Cassidy" ( a tribute to the real person behind Jack Kerouac's fictional Dean Moriarty in the legendary "On The Road") and the downhome bluegrass of "Wabash Cannonball," this latter recorded as recently as 2003 with Dan Zanes.
Elswhere, Weir proves remarkably versatile. He can pull off funky cruises like "Lazy Lightnin", full-tilt honky tonk anthems like "One More Saturday Night" and shimmering, semi-orchestral resignation ("Looks Like Rain"), as well as more unlikely gear like "I Want To (Fly Away)" - dramatic and reggae-tinged (really!) - and the nervy "Easy Answers" where he collaborates with former Lou Reed cohort Rob Wasserman. Even when the dreaded extended soloing looms on the horizon (like on the inevitable "Playing In The Band" ) it usually takes flight rather than sends you off to unblock the drains or any such similar jobs you've been putting off for weeks.
|
Inevitably, the second CD (covering live performances from the vault) is less brevity-conscious (hell, "Truckin"s here, obviously), but still the track listing's handy as a live 'best of' and there are sterling versions of the likes of "Man Smart, Woman Smarter" and "Me & Bobby McGee". Weir's delivery is commanding (a slightly more mellow John Fogerty anyone?) and brownie points must be awarded for the inclusion of searing versions of two tracks ("Hell In A Bucket" and the still-relevant political comment of "Throwing Stones") from the Dead's 1980s commercial watermark album "In The Dark". Even better is the ploy to conclude the album with a brooding stalk through Bob Dylan's "Masters Of War", recorded (with Weir's new band RatDog) just as bombs began to rain down on Iraq last spring. An unmissable final word and no mistake.
"Weir Here..." then, is a lovingly annotated and beautifully packaged anthology item. Bob Weir's is not a career your reviewer would have delved into in detail previously, but these songs are enough to alter that standpoint. Fair play and respect to all involved, though I still doubt I'd be as magnanimous to anything from that never-ending "Dick's Picks" series or archival trawls of the Jerry Garcia vault. C'mon, a long-term punk rocker's gotta maintain his standards.
|
