This is my fourth Grateful Dead book in the last year, so yeah, I'm a little obsessed. It's also probably the best written of the four, but has the least stamp of authority when compared to Phil and Bills' memoirs, or the "oral bio" of Jerry.
Browne uses a nice framing conceit. Instead of a straight chronology, he has each chapter focus, more or less, on a particular critical day in the history of the band. Thus, we have a chapter that centers on the day when Phil gets invited to play bass. Another chapter that focuses on one acid test, the one where the band meets Rock Scully. A chapter for the bust at 710 Ashberry.
In these early chapters, the device works really well. In the later chapters, such as the chapter where Hornsby confronts Jerry about being out of it, the device feels much more like a device - one used to allow for a backtrack through the last few years of mishaps. But overall, I think it worked really well.
Another aspect I liked about this book is that it's pretty clear that Browne plays an instrument, and he seems to have some actual musical understanding. Thus, the section which involves an extensive description of a performance of Dark Star is amazingly good. At other times, however, I feel like he runs through lists of songs or sets, giving a one adjective description of each. A jaunty Scarlet Begonias, an elegiac Stella Blue, and so on and so forth.
When I started the book, seeing its structure, I thought I would listen to the show closest to each of the dates that are the focus of chapters. That fell through very early, because I went through the book too fast. I still think it would be worthwhile, however, though I'm not about to do a reread just for that. I did, however, find some tapes from Acid Tests on Relisten, and these were really fun to listen to.
Most of what's here is simply another view of parts of the elephant. By reading several of these books, I am getting different pictures of the beast, and some of it is coming together. And some of it never will. A new tidbit here is that Garcia and Weir got close to the Big Man (Clarence Clemons) after Springsteen dissolved the E-Street band. There was some talk of the three of them moving in together, and even some suggestion that he might join the Dead. But that was not to be. As I've heard before, Weir says that there are some guys in the Dead who hate the saxophone. This is really strange to me now. I remember seeing the same thing in one of the memoirs about having Branford Marsalis play with them more than he did.
I find this a really strange story, and a pretty good indication of why, no matter how much history you read, you will never really get to the bottom of some things. This book makes it clear that Weir and Garcia were ok with the idea of a saxophone player. In both Billy and Phil's books, they say how much they loved playing with Marsalis, and how the band really stepped it up with him. (Of this there can be no doubt.) It's not Jerry or Bobby or Billy or Phil. So was it Mickey? He has a saxophonist on Mysterium Tremendum, but that proves little. Or maybe it was Brent? But it's hard to believe Brent would have had that much influence if Jerry Bobby and Phil felt strongly about something. Or maybe someone is lying? I don't think anyone will ever know.
Browne does a pretty good job with the tragedy of the Grateful Dead keyboard players, who must have been the inspiration for Spinal Tap's drummers. In very limited space, he gives a touching portrayal of Pigpen's growing isolation, and places the blame for his death equally on Pigpen and the band. He doesn't deal with Tom Constanten in any depth, which is too bad. And, as always, Keith Godchaux remains something of a cypher, although he does give the most complete version I've seen of his death. He does a really good job showing how the band also marginalized Brent, while embracing him. And he has a whole chapter basically devoted to Hornsby, which was really nice to see. Welnick gets less attention, but then, Billy doesn't even acknowledge Welnick as a member of the Dead, so perhaps that's fitting.
I would recommend this book to Deadheads. Despite my long and deep interest, I don't consider myself one. I saw the Dead once, at Laguna Seca on a day that is the focus of one of these chapters (the recording of the Touch of Gray video). And I saw the Garcia band once in 1977. With years of opportunities to see them, this paltry list is not enough to get me onto the bus. I would also recommend this book to anyone who is interested in an easy to read, interesting take on the band.