Tue. Dec 17th, 2024

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Grateful Dead<!-- wp:html --><p>Photo Illustration by Elizabeth Brockway/The Daily Beast/Getty</p> <p>If you’re like most people, I was once like you: I hated the <a href="https://www.thedailybeast.com/the-art-of-the-grateful-dead">Grateful Dead</a>.</p> <p>Even as a classic rock-loving teen in the 90s, I could not fathom the appeal. The <a href="https://www.thedailybeast.com/the-definitive-ranking-of-grateful-dead-studio-albums-from-worst-to-best">studio albums</a> (with a couple of exceptions) were goofy and uninspired. The badly-recorded tapes of <a href="https://www.thedailybeast.com/how-the-grateful-dead-invented-the-ice-bucket-challenge">thousands of live shows</a> did nothing for me. The music struck me as aimless and dreary; <a href="https://www.thedailybeast.com/fare-thee-well-to-the-grateful-deads-lyrical-mastermind-robert-hunter">the lyrics</a> sounded like they were written by guys who were born old.</p> <p>Indeed, the band’s “I’m so tired of the road” anthem, “Truckin,’” was released a mere five years into their career. (“What a long strange trip it’s been” is a truly odd, world-weary lament for a bunch of twenty-something California bohemians in 1970.)</p> <p><a href="https://www.thedailybeast.com/how-i-learned-to-stop-worrying-and-love-the-grateful-dead">Read more at The Daily Beast.</a></p><!-- /wp:html -->

Photo Illustration by Elizabeth Brockway/The Daily Beast/Getty

If you’re like most people, I was once like you: I hated the Grateful Dead.

Even as a classic rock-loving teen in the 90s, I could not fathom the appeal. The studio albums (with a couple of exceptions) were goofy and uninspired. The badly-recorded tapes of thousands of live shows did nothing for me. The music struck me as aimless and dreary; the lyrics sounded like they were written by guys who were born old.

Indeed, the band’s “I’m so tired of the road” anthem, “Truckin,’” was released a mere five years into their career. (“What a long strange trip it’s been” is a truly odd, world-weary lament for a bunch of twenty-something California bohemians in 1970.)

Read more at The Daily Beast.

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