To Get To Terrapin
I’m fortunate in that I’ve had many great loves in my life. From my husband to my son to my exceptional parents to my dear, dear girlfriends, I’ve loved a lot and I’ve been loved a lot too. What I’ve realized though, in spite of so many amazing relationships, is that the greatest love of my life isn’t a person at all. The greatest love of my life, without question, is music.
The first time I remember music truly resonating with me was when I was about 4-years-old and I heard Paul Simon’s “Late in the Evening” playing from my Mom’s VHS copy of Simon and Garfunkel’s Concert in Central Park. Even now, I can still vividly recall hearing the horns, racing into the living room, patting my small bare feet against the carpet, and whipping my hair across my face as I danced.
Years later, after fully digesting the lyrics, I came to understand the song was about Paul Simon’s own love affair with music, which is probably the most Meta thing that’s ever happened to me. Sometime in the early 2000s, I crossed off my bucket list singing it to a room full of strangers at a dive bar in southern Indiana. And yes, true to the lyrics, I blew that room away.
Since then, I’ve encountered many more songs. There are songs that make me smile. Songs that make me relax. Songs that make me think. Songs that make me cry. Songs that remind me of the past. And songs that help me look forward to the future.
From Jackie Wilson’s “(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher & Higher” (which my Mom desperately tried to get me to sing backup on so she could sing lead) to “Heatwave” by Martha and the Vandellas (my all time favorite song) to “Easy” by the Commodores (a song I believe to be perfect in every way) to “Dirty Work” by Steely Dan (a song I think can be played in any situation and be well-received by any audience) to Peter Gabriel’s “Sledgehammer” (my walk-in music) to James Brown’s “The Boss” (my back-up walk-in music) to Ludacris’ “My Chick Bad” (my back-up, back-up walk-in music) to every song on The Rolling Stones’ Exile on Main Street, the list of songs that have affected my memories and my emotions and contributed to my outlook on my life is quite literally endless.
All my life I’ve always wanted to make the music I love, but the only instrument I ever really learned to play was the oboe. To this day, I still can’t understand why, out of all the instruments in sixth grade band, I chose that one, but I can only imagine it had something to do with it being difficult and different and individualistic. If played correctly, the oboe can be the highlight of any orchestral movement. If played incorrectly, you’d swear a duck just died a tragic death.
I stuck with the oboe throughout middle school and high school and was ever so close to playing it in college, too. I think all amateur musicians get to a point when they either realize they have what it takes to continue learning and growing because music is all they can imagine for their lives or they come to accept they just aren’t good enough and need to find something else to focus on professionally. Even though I had played well throughout my formative years and was the youngest ever member of the invitation-only Michigan City Municipal Band (yes, it’s as big of a deal as it sounds), as an oboist, I lacked both the drive and the courage to continue past the summer of my freshman year of college. So instead, I went about my life without the oboe, focusing on other things like writing, my hair, useless facts about serial killers, and my love of cheese. You know, grown up shit.
Despite not playing for roughly 15 years, there’s always been one piece of music I’ve wanted to learn that I’ve left dusty and unattended to on my bucket list, and that song is Terrapin Station by the Grateful Dead.
When I listen to the Grateful Dead, I get that same feeling in my feet I did all those years ago when I first heard “Late In the Evening.” It’s a feeling of freedom and complete abandon that leaves my hair in tangles, my legs limp, my voice raw, and my heart full. Seeing any iteration of the Dead in concert amplifies this feeling ten-fold, which is why every summer I chase them around the country to experience as many shows as possible. Honoring whatever it is that sets our souls free and lets our freak flags fly is something I believe we owe to ourselves. Once you find it, it’s your responsibility to gift yourself that feeling as often as possible.
Terrapin Station, I think, sets itself far apart from other Dead songs for a couple reasons. One, because it’s so much more than a song; it’s a suite divided into seven parts (Lady With a Fan; Terrapin Station; Terrapin; Terrapin Transit; At a Siding; Terrapin Flyer; and Reprise), released as the entire B-side on the Terrapin Station album. And two, because the studio version includes an entire orchestra and the oboe - something you just don’t find very often in any rock and roll or jam band or pop song. The oboe means business. The oboe, for me, raises the bar.
There are many other magical things about Terrapin that I cannot and will not get into in this blog. Honestly, I’d being doing the song and the band and Deadheads everywhere a serious disservice if I did. This is a piece of music that has been discussed and written about extensively and I wouldn’t be able to do its history or its legacy the justice it deserves here. So instead, I’ll do my best to describe what it is within the song I’d like to learn to play.
The complete Terrapin Station Medley can be found on the Terrapin Station studio album. In its entirety, the suite is 16 minutes and 22 seconds long. In this version, the oboe comes in at 7:09 then fades a bit until you hear it again at 7:23. The oboe returns prominently at 7:44 and continues until 8:38. There’s also a reprise at 14:38 which finishes out the song. So essentially, what I’d like to learn is 1 minute and 29 seconds of music.
It’s important to note that the orchestra and the choir parts (performed on the album by the Martyn Ford Orchestra and the English Choral Choir), were not part of the band’s initial vision for the song. According to JamBase, producer Keith Olsen added these pieces in post-production and the band was not very pleased.
Of the recording, drummer Mickey Hart said the following:
“[Olsen] did something that was one of the most disrespectful things that has ever happened to me musically in my life. On the second side of Terrapin, “At A Siding” and “Terrapin Flyer” are mine. The “Flyer” was supposed to be a timbal solo with me and Garcia doing duets, timbal and guitar. Olsen erased one of the beautiful timbal tracks in Europe and replaced it with all these strings. He played it for me, and my mouth dropped … He took a lot off, and then I put my timbal solo back on. But he didn’t ask – he erased it off the master and replaced it all with strings.”
The JamBase article goes on to cite lyricist Robert Hunter and drummer Bill Kreutzmann:
“I didn’t care for our recording of [“Terrapin Station”] because the producer took it into the studio in England by himself and threw all kinds of lush strings on it,” Hunter said. “I’ve never been able to listen to that without gritting my teeth, but I love the song.”
Kreutzmann called Olsen a “megalomaniac” who he had heard was “a motherfucker on drummers” and made Billy “do stuff I didn’t want to do,” later critiquing that the track “sounds really grandiose, like somebody’s ego is playing those strings.”
Now, the first time I learned the band wasn’t all in on the studio recording, I questioned whether as a fan I should love it as much as I do. I mean, if an orchestral sound wasn’t what they intended, maybe the piece isn’t as good as I thought. Then again, in the aforementioned critiques, there’s no mention of the oboe. It’s all about “those strings.” So screw those strings. The oboe plays and I’d like to think Hart, Kreutzmann, and Hunter would agree.
So in order to make this bucket list goal a reality, I’ve created a list of steps I must follow to get there. A list of steps to get to Terrapin. To quote the song, strategy is my strength, not disaster, so if I stick to this list I think I can actually get it done. Here it goes:
Re-learn how to play the oboe - well. A couple years ago I dug my very expensive, very beautiful oboe out of storage, ordered new reeds from Amazon (SO much easier than buying them in a musty old music store from hardened musicians with plaid shirts, sweater vests, and ear hair), grabbed some beginner sheet music and sat down to give it a go. I wasn’t horrible. I wasn’t great either. But the muscle memory was there (even if my embouchure wasn’t), so I think with a commitment to practicing for at least three to five hours each week, I should be able to get to where I need to be.
Locate the sheet music. This is much harder than it sounds. I’ve already searched for it a few times over the years to no avail. I’ve looked online, purchased piano sheet music (which turned out to only be for the Terrapin Station movement and not the full suite), posted about my search in Dead Lot (which elicited a lot of lovely sentiments, but no sheet music), and even contacted an acclaimed composer and director of the band at the University where I work. Nothing. It’s also VERY important to note that although the piano and oboe are in the same key, the music is NOT the same. The piano in the song does not play what the oboe plays, so what I’m looking for is the sheet music for the oboe only. This step, as it turns out, includes a boatload of sub-steps:
Post this blog to online Dead groups in the hopes that someone in our beautiful, amazing community of Deadheads may know someone who knows someone who can point me in the right direction.
Find out what orchestras have actually performed it and contact those conductors and oboists. I know the Boston Pops have done it, as has the Colorado Symphony Orchestra. There must be others, and I will find them.
Become friends with Warren Haynes. He’s played this piece of music countless times with full ensembles. I’m sure he has the sheet music for oboe, right? This sub-step should a piece of cake.
Keep trying.
Learn it. Once I actually have the sheet music, I plan to give myself anywhere between two and four months to perfect it.
Record it, post it, cry tears of relief, and cross it off my list. Easy peasy.