Weir, Lesh jam for Greene’s 36th
“Dialed in.” That’s the musical term for it. It’s not so much about sheer virtuosity as it is a natural and intuitive connection with one’s instrument, which seems to be just about any musical instrument in the hands of Jackie Greene.
To mark his 36th birthday, the reigning prince, wandering minstrel and, in Bob Weir’s words, “cowboy poet” of Americana blues rock returned home, not far from his Salinas stomping grounds, and brought with him an all-star lineup of the North Bay jam elite.
Mildly delayed by security — you can’t be too careful with a crowd of well-heeled, middleaged Marin post-hippies — the first set featured Greene in his comfort zone backed by his own four-piece electric touring band and joined by fellow multi-instrumentalist Jason Crosby on organ and electric piano.
Crosby is a relatively recent New York transplant who has been musically ubiquitous in the clubs of the Bay Area since his arrival in 2013. He’s one of those sickening people who can play any instrument he picks up better than anyone else in the room, not unlike Greene himself. And to make matters worse, like Greene he’s also humble and just a generally nice guy. He mostly stuck to the keys this evening, bringing out his fiddle only once during a mostly acoustic middle set.
Crosby’s musical instincts are on point with an even combination of taste, melodic creativity and chops, rarely playing a note out of place.
The band grew over the course of the set and throughout the evening with versatile guitarist Mark Karan of Fairfax taking the stage next for a cover of Traffic’s “Medicated Goo.” Karan is best known for his work with post-Grateful Dead the Other Ones as well as several years in support of Weir in Rat Dog, and he draws from a vast reservoir of licks earned from decades of session work in the blues, rock and county idioms. Karan’s melodic sensibility was a pleasing contrast to Greene and guitarist Nathan Dale’s more bombastic, bluessteeped approach.
Session drummer and producer Bruce Spencer joined Greene drummer Fitz Harris for the remainder of the first set, and while both drummers played with skill, taste and sensitivity, the overall sound space was beginning to get a bit cluttered, which was an increasing challenge throughout the night. As more musicians took the stage, it became more and more challenging to hear anyone’s individual playing in a nuanced way. Nuance aside, Spencer’s chops were on full display in a punishing cover of the Allman Brothers’ “Hot ’Lanta.”
Weir, an unannounced special guest, led the band through two songs from his new solo album, “Blue Mountains,” to kick of a brief acoustic “tweener” set that provided some sonic relief. Weir’s weathered but still-improving-with-age lead vocals carried “Gonesville,” “Lay My Lily Down” and the set closing sing-along “Ripple.”
A crowd evenly mixed between fans of Greene and those of the Grateful Dead had already had a satisfying night of music before the third-set payoff featuring both Weir and Phil Lesh playing through a set of Dead classics. Greene bassist Jon Cornell began the set backing Weir on “Jack Straw” and a free-for-all rendition of the Temptations’ barroom standard “Shakey Ground” before graciously ceding the low end to Lesh for the remainder of the evening.
Cornell is an excellent, solid, soulful bassist, but it was striking how much Lesh elevated the overall ensemble sound by virtue of his unique melodic style and incredible clarity of tone. Lesh was in top form, and as the first notes of “Scarlet Begonias” rang out, the celebration was on for a set of crowd-pleasing favorites, including “Fire on the Mountain” featuring Nicki Bluhm on lead vocals, “Dark Star,” “I’m So Gone,” “Shakedown Street” segueing (clumsily) into Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in the Wall” and back, “China Cat Sunflower” and “I Know You Rider.”
The band grew to as many as 12 players — five guitarists, two drummers, two bassists, two keyboardists and a vocalist — when Greene’s brother Alex Nelson joined Crosby on keys and Ross James stepped in on guitar. In those moments it was a bit overblown and difficult to discern any meaningful interplay, but the energy and love for the players and this musical catalog overshadowed what may have been a slightly under-rehearsed large ensemble.
To begin the encore, Bluhm led a rambunctious chorus of “Happy Birthday” before sharing an anecdote that she’d known Greene since childhood and that all he ever wanted to be was an old man. Weir gave a wink and one more nod to Salinas’ favorite “cowboy poet” and closed the evening with an encore of “Sugaree,” every word supported by a satisfied capacity crowd.