This came out in 2004 – or at least that’s when I got it. Here’s what I said about it back then (with some minor editing):
For Jerry Garcia, there was life beyond The Dead. And lots of it.
Never mind that the bearded hippie icon was the main vocalist, chief songwriter, spiritual centre and guiding visionary of ’60s psychedelia pioneers The Grateful Dead. Never mind that they made a bazillion records. Never mind that they were one of the most beloved live bands on the planet. That wasn’t enough for Garcia. He had to make solo albums.
And thank Jerry he did. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have All Good Things: Jerry Garcia Studio Sessions, a very cool new retrospective box. Over six discs and seven-plus hours, this superlative set resurrects and refurbishes all five of his official solo studio albums, along with a whopping 48 previously unissued tracks. And with the help of a 128-page booklet full of biographical and recording data from folks who were there, All Good Things delivers a comprehensive, unbiased evaluation of the great Garcia’s extracurricular exploits during his most productive years.
The first of the discs is perhaps the best — the self-titled Garcia LP from 1972. A true solo album, its 10 tracks feature Jerry as one-man band, playing all the instruments except for drums, which are handled by Dead stickman Bill Kreutzmann. Despite the piecemeal construction (and a few avant-garde soundscapes), it works surprisingly well — especially on the slow shuffle of Sugaree, which would go on to become a Dead live staple.
Just as satisfying in a different way is 1974’s eclectic covers disc Garcia (Compliments), on which Jerry and a solid backing band cut loose on musical touchstones like Chuck Berry’s Let It Rock (turned into bumptious N’Awlins gumbo), The Rolling Stones’ Let’s Spend The Night Together (a funky duet with Maria Muldaur) and even Irving Berlin’s Russian Lullaby (revamped into gypsy jazz a la Django Reinhardt). The 10 bonus cuts are every bit as good, from the Memphis soul version of the Holland/Dozier/Holland classic Road Runner to the bluesy take on Ricky Nelson’s maudlin Lonesome Town.
If 1973’s Reflections feels less consistent, that’s natural. Half of it was recorded with Garcia’s band (which included former Elvis Presley drummer Ron Tutt and British piano guru Nicky Hopkins) and half with the Dead, who stepped in after the solo band imploded. Still, there are gems here — the rollicking Might As Well (a chronicle of the Dead’s 1970 Festival Express railway tour of Canada), bonus covers of Mystery Train and All By Myself (which Tutt must have loved) and the unissued debut of Orpheus, another cut that graduated to the Dead catalogue.
Things head downhill with Cats Under the Stars from 1978. Jerry claimed it was his favourite solo album. Few others agree. Maybe it’s that these tracks — over which he painstakingly laboured — lack his trademark spontaneity. Or maybe its the squishy synths that douse the spark of decent songs like Rubin and Cherise. Or maybe it’s the slow-paced gospel influence, which tends to weigh down the disc. Anyway, on the plus side, Rhapsody in Red is a good little rocker, while the molasses pacing works on the Bo Diddley groove of bonus track Don’t Let Go.
Thanks to the poor reception given Cats, Garcia didn’t make another solo studio disc until his final effort, 1982’s Run For The Roses. And he surely didn’t put his heart into it in the same way. A loose and understated effort, Roses has no grand epics or complex excursions — just a few new tracks, leftover Compliments covers like I Saw Her Standing There and Without Love, and a nifty reggae version of Bob Dylan’s Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door. Bonus cuts include more Dylan numbers — Tangled Up In Blue and a countrified Simple Twist Of Fate — plus a reggae-tinged Dear Prudence and the debut of Alabama Getaway.
And the story doesn’t end there — the sixth disc, Alternates, Jams and Outtakes, houses 68 minutes of leftovers that couldn’t fit on the other discs, including a rockier Let’s Spend The Night Together and a poignant reading of Warren Zevon’s Accidentally Like A Martyr.
So let’s recap: Seven hours, six discs, five albums, four dozen bonus cuts, at least three bands and too much music to take in at one sitting. And when you add it up, it still barely scratches the surface of Garcia’s career. Even if you’re no Deadhead, you gotta admit that All Good Things makes it clear Jerry led a full life.
