the book of the dead, 8

Jack Straw is the ultimate Grateful Dead song, an archetypal yin/yang parable of the highest order. It's the story of an outlaw doomed by bloodlust, greed, hubris... What makes the song fascinating from a songwriting point of view is that it features three perspectives, each of which seamlessly melts into the next. The first is that of the song’s namesake, an outlaw doing everything he can to avoid drawing the heat. The second is Jack’s counterpart, the vengeful Shannon, whose fits of renegade wildness make Jack anxious. Anxiety makes men do bad things... And then there’s the third-person omniscient narrator bringing the story to its inevitable denouement: Jack Straw from Wichita cut his buddy down / And dug for him a shallow grave and laid his body down…’  The song is loaded with observations that capture the American frontier in all its awesome vastness. Sun so hot / the clouds so low / the eagles fill the sky. The beauty of the landscape is juxtaposed brilliantly with the ugly depths to which fear can drive the human condition. It's heavy, heady stuff, and very, very good. The earliest versions of the tune I’ve heard date from late 1971, at which point Bob Weir sang both characters. Eventually, Garcia became Shannon, which, when you think about the trajectory of his all-too-short time on earth, seems about right. In any case, the addition of Garcia's vocals makes the song much more impactful. More than any other tune, this is the one that made me a Deadhead. It continues to satisfy on multiple levels…