“Let’s make a movie,
boys!”
With
these words (or something like them) Lenny Hart exhorted the Grateful Dead to
appear in a Hollywood musical. A psychedelic western about rock & roll
cowboy outlaws? Perfect for the Dead! They could even write songs for the movie
that would be heard in movie theaters and drive-ins across the land.
Biographer Dennis McNally writes that
while Lenny was managing the Dead, he persuaded them to appear in “the film
Zachariah, a bizarre western with electric guitar-slinging cowboys. Arguing
that it would provide good exposure, Lenny briefly convinced them that the idea
could fly. In the end, they didn’t trust Hollywood and opted out of the movie…
but before that…they toured the MGM back lot and were fitted for costumes, and
then Mickey, the experienced rider, took the band out for lessons at his
ranch.” (1)
Tom
Constanten remembered, “We were supposed to be the band in the movie Zachariah.
It got as far as touring the MGM back lot, getting fitted for costumes, and
impacting the script, but no farther. The band even went horseback riding as a
group a couple of times out at Mickey’s ranch in Novato.” (2)
Rosie
McGee wrote in more detail: “When the band committed to appear in a movie – a
musical western called Zachariah – they had to learn to ride. I believe Mickey
and Bill were the only two band members familiar with horseback riding.
Everyone showed up for riding lessons at Mickey’s with varying degrees of
enthusiasm… They were all game and gave the riding lessons a try.” Some of the
Dead adapted to horseback better than others – Lesh & Weir were at ease and
Pigpen liked to pose on horseback, but Constanten was “very uncomfortable,” and
Garcia was “terrified of horses” and even fell off his horse. “That was the
last time he ever rode.” (3)
McNally
suggests that it was Garcia’s horse mishap that “ended his interest in the
project.” It can readily be imagined what Lenny’s interest in the project was –
the Dead working on a movie meant checks from the movie studio that he could
personally deposit. (He got his chance a few months later when Garcia played on
the soundtrack for “Zabriskie Point,” and the check from MGM promptly vanished
into Lenny’s bank account.)
The
time was late fall ’69. The film had been in the works since 1968, under the
hand of producer Joe Massot: by spring ’69 it was supposed to feature Ginger
Baker and the Band; but then the Band passed, and the opportunity went to the
Dead. In the Grateful Dead Archives there is a script for Zachariah, an
“original screenplay by Joe Massot & The Firesign Theatre,” dated 11/28/69.
(4) I think the participation of the Firesign Theatre writers helped draw the
Dead’s interest – they were likely already fans (the Firesign’s 1971 album “I
Think We’re All Bozos On This Bus” would become part of the Dead’s
self-mythology). David Ossman of the Firesign was also the voice on many Warner
Bros. radio ads in ‘69 (including the Dead’s ads for Aoxomoxoa).
(Incidentally,
in the ‘80s Phil Austin of the Firesign would write a screenplay for the
Grateful Dead – a Hollywood comedy featuring the Dead that never got made –
which Garcia insisted on calling “The Dead Sell Out.”
Manager
Jon McIntire was interviewed about the movie sometime in late ’69, for an
article that appeared a few months later:
‘Their
upcoming movie is Zechariah, described as a kind of fantasy cowboy flick with a
plot line closely resembling Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha. Costuming has been
completed for the Dead; filming may begin in April, either in Mexico or in the
old back lots of MGM.
Zechariah
was written by screen veteran Joe Massot (“a good flowing script,” former actor
MacIntire reported), and will be produced by George England...
“If
it’s done as we originally heard about it,” MacIntire said, “the movie really
won’t be a western, but will be an interesting piece of surrealism. For
example, when the Dead ride in on their horses they’re wearing holsters with
electric guitars shoved in them and electric amplifiers strapped on the backs
of the horses.
“The
movie’s star (Ginger Baker) is Zechariah – the Dead have their segment of the
picture when Zechariah interacts with them, lusts after the kind of lives they
live and wants to be a part of them. We’re really looking forward to filming
it.”’
(David Harris, “Rock’s First Family: Grateful
Dead,” Circus 3/70) (5)
But
Hollywood was up to its usual tricks. Some of the film’s reviewers have pointed
out that much changed between the original script and the eventual movie:
“Firesign
Theatre have distanced themselves from the film, having spoken of a script they
wrote for a comic western ‘that was never made.’”
“AFI
reports that the Firesigns publicly rejected the film because their original
script had been changed so much. Massot, who was to be the director, resigned
over artistic differences.”
“In
reading interviews with various members of the comedy team, the Firesign
Theatre wrote *the first draft* of this movie which was meant to be a comedic
adaptation of Siddhartha, set in the old west. Then what seems to have happened
was that the studio executives assigned another writer to do a re-write (and
probably tinkered a bit with the script themselves) and the final product bore
only a passing similarity to the original script. I do not think that the
Firesign Theatre are in any way proud of this movie and don't mention it on
their website.”
One
history of the group relates the tale: “The Firesign Theatre was contracted to
help write a screenplay for the first psychedelic western, Zachariah (1970),
produced by ABC Pictures and it was their official introduction to Hollywood,
and the world of control... For the first time Firesign were being told what to
do and the project slipped out of their grasp, producing mixed results.
Although 90% of the remaining dialogue is in their own words, most of the
hippie concepts and the scene they wrote for themselves...fell to the merciless
power of the well known, unsuitable, veteran director George Englund. How could
the establishment understand The Firesign Theatre? [Phil] Austin walked, but
the remaining three traveled to Mexicali, Mexico for on-location rewrites and
smoke-ins...”
Director
Joe Massot quit over “differences of opinion” with the studio. The Dead themselves
dropped out of the film production by the end of December ’69. And even Ginger
Baker found better things to do. Replacements were found, and filming continued
without them. Here’s a report on the progress of "Zachariah" in
February 1970, from Cash Box magazine:
"Last weekend we visited the set of "Zachariah." The flick, a
rock western, is a perfect merging of the two artforms, with the music and
musicians skillfully blended into the plot (as opposed to the old idea of
building a plot around the musicians).
"Ginger Baker, the first rocker cast for the film, is out, being replaced by
jazz drummer Elvin Jones... After a series of scheduling problems with the
Grateful Dead, the film's producers switched over to Country Joe & the
Fish. If the Jones move works out as well as the Fish switch, the movie will be
a monster, for the Fish playing an unsuccessful but happy outlaw gang, turned in
outstanding performances. When we left, one of the ABC Pictures execs was
already mulling over a TV series idea with the Fish recreating their movie
roles as the Crackers."
(“Meanwhile, Back on the
Ranch…” Cash Box 2/21/70) (6)
The article mentions that "the group played the Fillmore West this past
weekend" (February 12-15), so the Fish were filming that month. The "scheduling
problems" with the Dead were probably a polite coverup; but Country Joe
& the Fish made respectable substitutes as a gang of comical rock &
roll bandits. Elvin Jones stayed in the film as a gunfighter, as fast on the
drums as he is on the draw; the James Gang and fiddler Doug Kershaw also appeared.
(Trivia note: Banjo player Obray Ramsey of ‘Rain and Snow’ fame was also
involved in the soundtrack, recording one tune called ‘Shy Ann’: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CxnmtxyoWiI
)
But
it must be said, the movie’s terrible. The Dead were lucky to escape this
tedious crap. It was eventually released in January 1971, to not much acclaim,
and flopped. The desperate and morbidly curious can see it here:
So
much for “Zachariah.” “Yes, but what about Mason’s Children?” you ask. Luckily,
a newspaper review from December ’69 describes how the song was written for the
movie:
“A
week ago last Thursday, the Grateful Dead, who last night opened a three-night
stand at the Tea Party, sat down to a normal day's work at their digs in San
Francisco.
They
had just received a screenplay that demanded immediate theme music. Bob Hunter,
the group's lyricist, flipped through the script and jotted down some lyrics.
Jerry Garcia, the Dead's leader, glanced down at the lines and began to
improvise a few chords on his guitar. The five other Dead joined in.
By
the time they stopped playing, the group had composed a powerful number, based
on a beefy chord progression, called "The Mason Song." The movie
company decided the song didn't suit them, but last night The Dead used it to
bring their first set to a crashing finish.”
(Timothy Crouse, “Grateful Dead Resurrect
Dancing at Tea Party,” Boston Herald Traveler 12/30/69) (7)
The
Dead had debuted Mason's Children on Friday Dec 19th, and this article declares
they'd written it on Thursday the 18th! Well, that’s probably not quite true,
but the account of writing the song may be close to how it happened (the story
could only have come from the Dead themselves), and it was actually called ‘The
Mason’ at the time. They’d just received the screenplay from Nov 28 and lost
little time composing a song for the film. But it’s also said that the movie
studio rejected the song for “Zachariah” – perhaps one of the reasons the Dead
pulled out of the production by the time this review was written. (Being put
together rapidly for the film, with lyric ideas drawn from the screenplay, may
help explain why the song's a little out of keeping with the other Workingman's Dead songs, and why the
Dead dropped it after just a couple months.)
At
their next stop at the Fillmore East on 1/3/70, they introduced Mason’s
Children with a joking story of its origins:
Phil:
“This here song we wrote for a movie which was gonna be shot in a parking lot –
no, it was a drive-in restaurant – no, it was a drive-in movie – in downtown
Albuquerque, was it? (Jerry: Something like that.) Yeah, with parked cars for
an audience.”
Jerry:
“We decided not to do it finally.”
Bob:
“But we’re gonna do the song anyway.”
Mason’s
Children was one of a pair of songs Robert Hunter wrote in December ’69, along
with New Speedway Boogie – they debuted at almost the same time, Mason’s on Dec
19, New Speedway on Dec 20. Both songs were inspired by the aftermath of the
ill-fated Altamont festival. Hunter wrote in his Box of Rain lyric collection
that Mason’s was “an unrecorded song dealing obliquely with Altamont” – very
obliquely, since it’s hard to see the connection! Though the lyrics are almost
like a nursery rhyme and seem to tell a simple tale, they remain obscure and
have given rise to much interpretation. Could Hunter have taken inspiration
from “Finnegans Wake?” “Stranger in a Strange Land?” “The Cask of Amontillado?”
or the secret rites of Freemasonry? The debate continues… (I’m tickled by one
summary: “rather morbid lyrics about a burial of a beloved friend that goes
wrong.”)
The notion that Hunter may have just
pulled ideas for the song from an early screenplay for “Zachariah” remains an
unexplored angle. But I’m not sure if he really did get anything from the
script – the finished film bears no relation to Mason’s Children. (There is an
old hermit, mentor to the young Zachariah and equivalent to Siddhartha’s
ferryman, who dies, leaving his pupil to tend his garden; but that’s a slim
resemblance.) Hunter himself remembered Mason’s as an Altamont song and seems
to have forgotten the “Zachariah” connection. When Blair Jackson asked him
about it, “Hunter recalled that around that time the band had written a tune
for a rock Western they were approached to appear in called Zachariah, and perhaps
‘Mason's Children’ was that song.” (8)
The
song was originally called ‘The Mason’ – note that the newspaper article called
it ‘The Mason Song,’ and Hunter still just called it ‘The Mason’ in the ‘90s. (The Dead even sing "the mason" and "the mason's children" in the song. They might never have called it ‘Mason’s Children’ before tape-collectors
gave it that name.) Garcia was asked about old outtakes in one 1981 interview:
“There wasn’t a whole lot, no. There were one or two tunes that we were working
on – ‘The Mason.’ It’s sometimes called ‘The Mason’s Children.’ It’s been
circulated some in the underground tape circles in the United States. I don’t
know where the hell they got a tape of that from! We may have done it in the
studio but I don’t remember really.” (9)
Mason’s
Children didn’t last long in concert. There are only 19 known live versions –
the Dead played it in almost every show for about a month in Dec ‘69/Jan ’70,
then less frequently to the end of February, before dropping it. Let’s take a
look at the performances:
12/19/69
Eager
to play the song, they start the electric set with it – a new fun rocker! It’s a
little rickety, but they’ve rehearsed the song well and they have it down. The
playing’s somewhat tentative and rigid compared to later performances, but this
isn’t very noticeable, and Garcia’s solos are strong & snappy. The
harmonies are about the same as they’d always be, without many changes, and the
arrangement of this song was also fixed from the start: two verses &
chorus, solo, two verses & chorus, solo, repeat chorus.
12/20/69
Mason’s
starts the show – this one’s much the same, but a little more sluggish. TC’s
organ swirls atmospherically, and Garcia soars in the second solo.
(Released on Dave’s Picks 6.)
12/21/69
Phil
teases the bassline, and they jump into the song. This one’s a little more
punchy as they’re getting tighter, but Garcia’s solos are a lot weaker than the
night before. Still, the solo breaks are really propulsive – you can feel the
energy jump up when they stop singing.
(Released on Dave’s Picks 6 bonus CD.) (6:20)
12/28/69
From
a rowdy outdoor festival performance, this one has a false start, stopped when
Pigpen urges the crowd to move back: “You can either move back or you can stay,
but if you stay you might get smashed. So it’s your decision.”
Lesh:
“Now we told ya, all right?”
Pigpen:
“The warning is there, we have – ah well, forget it, just do what you want!”
A
boisterous Mason’s with loud vocals follows (someone yells “turn it down!”
after the first verse). The first solo is already extra-excited; but then Garcia
launches into a nearly five-minute-long second solo which takes off into nearly
Other One-type spaces, opening up the song for some real jamming.
12/29/69
Another
brief false start while they work something out and Pigpen taps on his conga
drums (I don’t think he plays these during the song, though). The vocals seem
tighter in this one; I think the drumwork’s getting busier, and there’s a
little more variation in dynamics. This time, it’s the first solo that Garcia
stretches out into a four-minute-long wiry jam, breaking the boundaries of the
song. The second solo’s pretty powerful too, though it trails out and he has trouble
getting back to the song – apparently he broke a string!
This
ends the first set – Garcia announces afterwards, “I gotta fix a string… We’re gonna take a ten-minute break and come
back and play for several hours.” (The announcement’s cut on the Archive
copies.) This version’s the “crashing finish” mentioned in the review above. This
would be my pick as the most exciting Mason’s, or a close second to 12/28 which
has the edge in energy.
12/30/69
Garcia
starts it right out of Uncle John’s Band. It’s a solid take, maybe a little
subdued, but it seems like there’s increasingly more ‘breathing room’ and
variations in the playing. The first solo’s longer in this one too, but
Garcia’s more restrained tonight and doesn’t step out as much; the second
solo’s quite short. In a hurry, he zips right into China Cat when the song’s
over.
12/31/69
This
one has a longer intro as Garcia lays out the groove with a slinky New Speedway-style line –
overall it’s a better, punchier performance than 12/30. Garcia digs into
repeating patterns in his playing, with two strong solos. (You can hear the audience
howl after the first solo!) The song in general is improving, not so much
because the vocals are getting better, but the playing’s getting more textured
and hard-hitting, swirling densely in the jams. Things are looking up for 1970…
1/2/70
This
one opens the new year with a dramatic twist, bursting out of the “Also Sprach
Zarathustra” orchestral intro. Bear’s Fillmore East mix is also much clearer
than his rather congested mixes in December ’69, so this is a good one to hear
the organ and drums in wide separation. The effect is to make it sound more
clattery & bare than the earlier versions. (Bear’s still adjusting the mix
as it progresses, so Weir’s guitar also gets turned up in the second half.)
But
performance-wise, they’ve stripped out the jams and this is the shortest
version yet. There’s been a change in Garcia’s approach: his first solo simply
restates the vocal melody (which will be the norm going forward), and even his
second solo is a lot more subdued than he’d been playing before. The trend in
1970, it seems, is to turn this into a shorter pop song.
(The SBD has the first few seconds clipped.)
(Released on Fallout from the Phil Zone &
Dave’s Picks 30.)
1/3/70
After
China>Rider, they abort High Time and decide on Mason’s instead, and Phil
gives the audience a little introduction to the song (quoted above). This one
comes in the middle of the late show rather than opening the early show, so
you’d expect a more expansive performance. Far from it! They zip through this
one in a hurry, even skipping the last chorus, and Garcia pares his solos down
to the minimum, making this an even shorter Mason’s. It seems they want to
tighten the song to album length. On the other hand, it’s also the
best-recorded version so far, sounding very crisp; the drumming stands out, and
you can tell they have the vocal harmonies down.
(Released on Dave’s Picks 30 bonus disc.)
1/10/70
A
tight & punchy Mason’s – this one’s even more rushed; it’s like they’re
trying to see how quickly they can finish, speeding up each transition. (They've also changed the intro to a more straightforward rock riff.) But for
me, even if they have it more ‘album-ready’ the song’s potency is reduced when
all the jam action is limited to the second solo, which is cut down to a minute,
before it can really get going. When the song ends, Garcia immediately segues
to a slow Black Peter.
1/17/70
The
stage announcer checks to see if the audience have taken their shoes off on the
gym floor. This done, it’s time for another Mason’s – this one’s much like
1/10, except more energetic, sloppy & exuberant. (The second solo almost
takes off before they rein it in.) Pigpen’s congas are very audible in this
one, which I didn’t notice in earlier versions; along with the busier drumming
it makes this version extra-percussive. This time, Garcia segues to a slow High
Time.
1/18/70
This
one’s slower-paced, and one of the drummers is trying out a steady tumbling
drum-roll through the song. Constanten’s very low in the mix. This version
feels tired and sluggish, though the second solo tries to reach liftoff until
Garcia gives up and awkwardly yanks the band back to the last chorus. One of
the weakest versions. Black Peter follows once again.
(Released on Download Series vol. 2.)
1/24/70
A
tight version with more spring in its step; this is the best Mason’s of January
‘70. The second solo finally opens up again to a little three-minute jam,
revisiting the December ’69 energy and stomping to a climax. Garcia segues to
Black Peter again after some quick tuning.
This
would be the last version with Tom Constanten, who left the band a week later
in New Orleans. The song would lose a little charm without his jaunty organ
whistling round the vocals and chirping through the chords.
(Released on Workingman’s Dead reissue CD
& Dave’s Picks 19.)
1/31/70
Counted
off at a brisk clip, this is a raucous post-bust performance, one of the most
energetic & crunchy Masons. The second solo catches blazing fire – but has
a significant cut in the middle at 4:40 just as Garcia’s heading into a new
space (it was probably at least as long as 1/24). Garcia plays the little
descending line at the end which Constanten used to play.
2/2/70
This
is the first Mason’s to be part of a big jam suite, and it has an odd entrance.
St. Stephen falls apart after “another man spills” – it sounds like the
drummers are trying to start Alligator, but the others reject that and pummel
their way into a jam instead, which isn’t quite the usual Stephen jam but is
more like a Mason’s jam. So Garcia starts Mason’s proper and they blaze through
it. The tumbling drum style is sounding more natural by now; the second solo is
quite hot, but unfortunately cut very short. (This could be due to the reel
flip, which is undetectable on the CD release.) After the song Weir announces
they had an equipment failure: “Mickey went right through his drumhead.” But
they carry on.
(Released on Dave’s Picks 6.) (4:42)
2/5/70
The
Fillmore West audience is calling requests; Weir replies, “Just relax and take
what you get.” The Dead deliver the longest Mason’s of 1970 – but sadly, a
troubled one. Garcia stretches out the first solo: not because he’s feeling inspired,
but because he’s trying to tune his guitar on the fly, so it’s the sound of a
struggling Garcia. The band’s doing their best to create a surge, and the
second solo starts better, more exploratory – but then Weir’s sounding very
out-of-tune, and then there’s a source cut to a murky audience tape during the
second solo at 7:12, muffling the climax, and then Garcia forgets to play the
little lick at the end of the song. Oh well, time for tuning! On the bright
side, the drums are recorded very well, so this is a good one to hear the drum
interplay – Mickey brings out the cowbell.
2/14/70
Mason’s
finds itself embedded in another jam suite. This time, Garcia starts it out of
a colossal Not Fade Away, substituting Mason’s where you might expect the NFA
chords. It’s amazing how quickly the Dead switch to the new song – they’re
singing the verse within 15 seconds. But this isn’t a great Mason’s – the
singing isn’t so good, the playing not so dramatic, and the solos are very
short. Garcia had already been playing in this style through Not Fade Away, so
he felt no need to stretch out the solos here. Instead of finishing the song,
he heads straight for Caution from the solo. Though this was one of the first well-known
Masons, it’s mainly just notable for its unusual placement between two giant
jams.
(Released on Dick’s Picks 4.)
2/23/70
Mason’s
comes out of Not Fade Away again. As NFA is ending, Lesh is pushing the Mason’s
bassline (starting at 12:50); the others come to a stop and Weir tries
suggesting Good Lovin’ instead, which the drummers agree to, but Lesh overrules
them and they continue with Mason’s. This awkward start is soon rendered moot
by a giant tapecut at :38 which wipes out half the song, and almost all the
vocals. The tape returns in time for the second solo, which is all right but
not too exciting. The highpoint of this Mason’s comes at the end, when Garcia
& Lesh play the final descending lick in counterpoint. This ends the show:
“Goodnight now.”
2/28/70
Once
again, Mason’s is part of a rock & roll jam suite – Weir starts it up after
the Other One. And the opening arrangement has changed! It’s now the ‘Jumping
Jack Flash’-style riff they’ve worked up in the studio, and the song is taken
at a much slower pace. The slow tempo emphasizes the harmony vocals, but even
some enthusiastic singing doesn’t really bring this tepid version to life. Then, like on
2/14, Garcia & Lesh exit the loopy second solo into Caution; but this time
Caution lasts less than a minute before they decide to wrap up the show-opening
Lovelight instead.
So
what were they up to in the studio? During February 1970, they’d started
recording Workingman’s Dead, and
Mason’s Children was one of the songs intended for the album. Sometime during
the sessions, they came up with the slower arrangement – per Jerrybase,
recording started on February 7 at Pacific High Recording (perhaps a lost
initial demo session), but the date of the outtakes we have is unknown. I
believe they devised the new studio arrangement after Feb 23 – it doesn’t make
much sense for them to be playing the slow version in the studio earlier on
while reverting to the old arrangement live. (For instance, notice how on 2/28
Lesh plays the bubbly bass part at the beginning that he did in the studio, and
on no earlier live version. The little turnaround Lesh & Weir play at the
ends of the verses also comes from the studio arrangement, and hadn’t been
heard earlier.)
About
three minutes of false starts of Mason’s Children in the studio can be heard in
the Deadcast:
The
basic track isn’t for a demo (Garcia isn’t even playing) – they’re trying to
get an album take. (I think someone calls take 23!) The trouble is, one of the
drummers (probably Mickey) is trying a complicated drum syncopation which is
throwing everything off, though it’s neat to hear.
Sometime
afterwards, they dropped that idea, got rid of a drummer, and simplified the
opening, finishing a basic track that they dubbed their vocals onto:
The
So Many Roads version:
The
instrumentation is ‘live’ without overdubs (Garcia may have recorded his guitar
separately), but it’s odd to hear the song given the full Workingman’s vocal
treatment with double-tracked voices. The arrangement is shortened from the
live versions –the second solo break & final chorus are dropped. (Garcia
also never got around to recording a lead guitar part, hence the lack of a solo.)
Note that the So Many Roads version
is a completely different mix with more vocals. In the circulating outtake, you
can hear Garcia’s two vocal parts on left & right (with the other vocals
more buried).
The
Deadcast asserts there were “a dozen-and-a-half takes of Mason’s Children;” but
as the album sessions progressed, the Dead stopped working on this song,
deciding not to put it on the album. Producer Bob Matthews recalled, “We looked
at each other and said, ‘We’ve got an extra tune,’ and left it at that… It did
not fit with all the other tunes, as far as the general artistic feel, the type
of music.” He remembered it being discarded during the initial demo rehearsals
for the album, but I think the tune made it at least to the end of February
before it got zapped.
Later
on, Robert Hunter would play it frequently in his solo shows over the years. On
8/18/83 Hunter introduced it: “Here’s that other Altamont song, the one that
was never recorded.” On 10/11/97, following its release on Fallout from the Phil Zone, he talked more about the Altamont
connection: “Seriously, it’s nice to have that song get out on a record at long
last – I was always saying, ‘Why don’t you put ‘The Mason’ out?’ ‘Well man, it
sounds like a hit record.’ Pardon me!
Now it’s very safely dated; that’s the other Altamont song. The mysterious
verse – it goes, ‘Take me to the reaper man to pay back what was loaned / If
he’s in some other land, write it off as stoned.’ The Stones ran up an immense
phone bill on Altamont, from Mickey’s ranch, and they stuck us with the damn
thing and split off to England. ‘Course, you don’t need to know that, erase
that from the tape… The Stones don’t need to pay their own fuckin’ phone bills,
man, they’re the Stones! One of the perks is having the Dead pay your phone
bill.”
Whether
this verse really refers to the Stones’ phone bill, it’s illuminating to hear
that Hunter wanted the song released, but the Dead rejected it because it
sounded too much like “a hit record!” (Of course, they’d crafted it that way.)
While Workingman’s Dead has other pop
songs that might have been hits, Mason’s Children does stick out as being the
least Dead-like – as Matthews said, “It didn’t seem to fit.” In a way, it’s the
counterpoint to the equally short-lived and little-regarded ‘Till the Morning
Comes’ on American Beauty, which is
almost a remake of Mason’s in the same style.
It’s
interesting to hear Hunter’s later solo versions of the song. In 1978, Hunter
played it in a medley of New Speedway Boogie>Mason’s Children – a pairing of
his Altamont songs. (He also plays it with a kind of ‘Wake Up Little Susie’-style
rhythmic lilt that’s missing in the Dead’s version.)
Later
examples from 1997 where Hunter played Mason’s on its own:
Despite
Hunter’s pleas, the Dead lost interest in Mason’s before the album sessions
even finished. They abandoned the song immediately after recording it – not
even bothering to finish the recording, and later forgetting they’d even taped
it. One sign of their lack of attachment to the song was that once they decided
not to put it on the album, they were done with it, and promptly stopped
playing it live.
Garcia
later shrugged, “‘Mason’s Children was an almost song. I guess it’s got a
famous underground reputation, but really it never quite collected itself into
a song. I never was that happy with the lyrics.” (10) Phil Lesh felt that “the
song was a lot of fun, but it wasn’t enough fun for us to keep doing it – I
think it sorta got lost in the shuffle.” (11) And he wrote when he included it
in Fallout from the Phil Zone, “Maybe
we just decided we didn’t dig it all that much at the time (maybe we never performed
it that well, either).”
*
APPENDIX
MASON’S
CHILDREN - SOLO TIMINGS
(Times aren’t exact, this is just to compare approximate
lengths of the guitar solos between versions.)
FIRST SECOND SONG TIME
12/19/69 2:05-3:10 4:40-6:00 (6:27)
12/20/69 2:00-3:30 4:55-6:20 (6:47)
12/21/69
2:00-3:30 4:55-5:50 (6:20)
12/28/69
2:15-3:25 4:45-9:25 (9:55)
12/29/69
1:55-5:55 7:10-9:05 (9:30)
12/30/69
2:05-4:30 5:45-6:55 (7:20)
12/31/69
2:45-4:50
6:05-7:35 (8:02)
1/2/70
1:40-2:35 3:55-5:35 (6:00)
1/3/70
1:50-2:35 3:30-4:35 (5:03)
1/10/70
1:20-2:00 3:10-4:15 (4:40)
1/17/70
1:20-1:55 3:05-4:05 (4:35)
1/18/70
1:35-2:05 3:25-4:50 (5:22)
1/24/70
1:25-2:00 3:15-6:05 (6:32)
1/31/70
1:20-2:00 3:15/5:40 (6/06)
2/2/70
1:30-1:55 3:05-4:10 (4:42)
2/5/70
1:25-3:45 5:00-7:45 (8:10)
2/14/70
1:30-1:55 3:00-3:45 (3:47)
2/23/70
(xxx cut) 1:05-3:10 (3/37)
2/28/70
1:50-2:25 3:55-5:10 (5:10)
NOTES
1. McNally, Long Strange Trip p.307
2. Constanten, Between Rock
& Hard Places p.77
3. McGee, Dancing with the
Dead
6. https://www.worldradiohistory.com/Archive-All-Music/Cash-Box/70s/1970/CB-1970-02-21.pdf
(p.28) - The article also mentions that the Fish would appear in
"Arrowfeather, a Roger Corman sci-fi movie about a gas that wipes out the
adult population." (This would be released later that year as
"Gas-s-s-s - or - It Became Necessary to Destroy the World In Order to
Save It," and Country Joe & the Fish play in a concert scene.) It was
filmed in December 1969. According to Corman, he was originally going to have
the Grateful Dead in the movie, but just before filming they asked for more money
to appear, so the budget-conscious Corman replaced them with Country Joe &
the Fish.
10. Steve Marcus interview,
October 1986
11. Lesh, AOL forum online
chat, June 1997
