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HOMECOMING:
CELEBRATING THE LIFE OF BOBBY WEIR |
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| This Saturday, January 17, at 12:45 pm PT, join us at Civic Center Plaza in San Francisco for a free public gathering honoring Bobby, whose music, spirit, and humanity shaped generations. Together, we will pay tribute in the community and collective heartbeat that he created.
A short sacred stop on his homecoming journey, the gathering will center on gratitude, remembrance, and togetherness, along with special tributes to honor Bobby.
There will be a procession traveling three blocks down Market Street between 7th and 9th Streets at approximately 12:30 pm PT.
A hat tip on his way out, if you will…
Location:
Civic Center Plaza *Please enter through Fulton Plaza.
335 McAllister St
San Francisco, CA
This is not a concert, and there will be no live musical performances. |
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BOBBY WEIR
1947 – 2026 |
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| Photo Credit: Adrian Boot @RetroPhotoArchive |
| Bobby Weir, just 17 years old when he co-founded the Warlocks, was one of the very few people who was at every single Grateful Dead show. Joining up with Jerry and Pigpen in 1964, and soon after Billy and Phil, with Mickey soon to follow, the Grateful Dead were defined by each of the unique musicians and voices these guys brought to the stage. And Bobby was as unique as they come.
A guitar player unlike any other, and a songwriter who created some of the most interesting, exciting, and oddly-timed songs in rock history, Bobby was also the unabashed rock star in the Grateful Dead. His list of contributions to the Grateful Dead repertoire is way too long to list, but songs like “Sugar Magnolia,” “Truckin’,” “Jack Straw,” “Cassidy,” “Looks Like Rain,” “Playing In The Band,” “Weather Report Suite,” “The Music Never Stopped,” “Estimated Prophet,” “Feel Like A Stranger,” “Hell In A Bucket,” and “Throwing Stones” are just the tip of the iceberg of his songwriting magnificence.
When Bobby had a spare moment both during the Dead’s 30 year performing career and after, he was always working on exciting, different projects like Kingfish, Bobby & The Midnites, Weir & Wasserman, RatDog, The Other Ones, The Dead, Furthur, Dead & Company, Wolf Bros, symphonic collaborations, recordings, performing. He never sat still, and was always moving forward, an inspiration to us all.
Watching Bobby do anything was always a joy, as he embraced life around him. First and foremost, his family gave him immense happiness. Being on stage and performing for us all showed us a man who loved to bring smiles to our faces. He didn’t do anything halfway, always giving it his all.
For 60 years, Bobby has been a huge part of the soundtrack to our lives. His kindness, generosity, and musical contributions have made our world a better place.
– David Lemieux |
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| It is with profound sorrow and eternal gratitude that we wish a grand farewell to our dear friend Robert Weir. Bob was always full of restless hope and a burning desire to do good in this world. He once said that his success was due to the ever-present sense of adventure that was the very heart of his music and that the hearts of his audience resonated with the same rhythms. His adventure will continue on with all those he inspired over his incredible life.
We know the big reunion on the other side will be felt as a surge of joy in the cosmos. And we hope everyone joins us in a big wolf howl farewell for our Bob Weir. Thank you for the amazing ride.
Sincere condolences to Bob’s beautiful wife Natascha and his lovely daughters, Chloe and Monet. We love you so much and are pleased to have grown close over the years despite life on the road. We honor this cosmic entanglement within the band and all of those around us; we love you.
Love and joy to everyone,
The Garcia Family |
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| Bob Weir was a little brother to me for almost sixty years. He was my first friend in the Grateful Dead. We lived together, played together, and made music together that ended up changing the world. Bob had the ability to play unique chords that few others could. Long fingers, that’s the difference. Jerry once told me that the harmonics Bob created became an inspiration for his own solos. When all of us were entrained, rhythm section, guitars, and voices… it was transcendent. What was a lifetime of adventure boils down to something simple- we were family and true to the music through it all.
I miss you so much already, dear friend.
– Mickey Hart |
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| Jerry Garcia had already been playing music with Bob Weir in a jug band when he called me up to form a rock band with them. That’s how I first met Bob. We called ourselves the Warlocks, playing our first real shows at a pizza parlor in Menlo Park and, long story short (but with a few steps in between)… we became the Grateful Dead. Together, we embarked on a journey without a destination. We didn’t set out to change the world, or to become big stars, or to have our own counterculture — we didn’t know any of those things were actually possible and we wouldn’t have been very interested in them even if we did. Well, not too much, anyway. Just enough to dream. We were a “group” in the sense that we were five friends trying to have the most amount of fun we could think of as often as we could. That meant playing music and all the other things: taking acid, getting high, goofing around. During those first rehearsals, which were in the back of a music shop, Bob and I would smoke joints in the back alley, before, during, and after — we had to be careful because it was still taboo back then. Also, Bob and I were the younger guys in the band, so we liked to do weird shit. By that I mean, we just liked to play pranks and be silly and not take ourselves too seriously. Right when things really started clicking and the band was getting noticed, there was a period when I lived with Phil Lesh on Belvedere Street and Weir lived with Garcia just a couple blocks over on Ashbury. That part of San Francisco, the Haight-Ashbury district, was getting enough national notoriety that buses full of tourists would stop in front of the Ashbury house and take pictures: “To your left is the home of the Grateful Dead.” Bob and I used to enjoy throwing water balloons at each other so one day we started throwing them at the tourist buses. That didn’t end well, but it’s making me smile all these years later thinking about it, because it was a time when every day felt like a great American adventure. We used to listen to every new record that came out anywhere. We would go over to Phil’s place, but Bob and I would sit next to each other and we’d listen intently to the music, trying to figure out “How did they do that?” That was a really big thing we used to do together. It was basically like our religion. Sometimes we’d take STP and sit there and turn the lights down low and the back of the amplifier would glow like a cathedral as we’d listen to the music. Nothing was more important than having fun and nothing was more fun than playing music. Especially once audiences started coming and we could look out and see a sea of people dancing. Once that happened, it was all we wanted to do. We didn’t want to stop. That was our first real goal — to just keep going. And so for sixty years, the music never stopped. This was true for all of us, together and apart, but when Bob was off the road, all he wanted to do was get back on it. And in the meantime, he would stop by any bar or club where there was someone playing that would let him sit in. He seemed to always be on some stage, somewhere. Offstage, we were everything you’d expect from lifelong friends and bandmates. We fought together (both on the same side and opposing), we celebrated together (both personal and professional milestones), and we watched each other, both near and far, as we went from teenagers to old men and all the stops in between.I once heard Bobby refer to himself as “the greatest rhythm guitar player in the world” and it made me chuckle lightheartedly at my brother’s boastfulness. The thing is… he was probably right. Time has proven that nobody will ever be able to replace Jerry Garcia — or Phil Lesh — and time will prove the same for Bob Weir. They were the biggest influence on my own playing, more than any drummer, and they will continue to be the biggest influence on whatever I do next.
We used to listen to every new record that came out anywhere. We would go over to Phil’s place, but Bob and I would sit next to each other and we’d listen intently to the music, trying to figure out “How did they do that?” That was a really big thing we used to do together. It was basically like our religion.
Sometimes we’d take STP and sit there and turn the lights down low and the back of the amplifier would glow like a cathedral as we’d listen to the music.
Nothing was more important than having fun and nothing was more fun than playing music. Especially once audiences started coming and we could look out and see a sea of people dancing. Once that happened, it was all we wanted to do. We didn’t want to stop. That was our first real goal — to just keep going.
And so for sixty years, the music never stopped. This was true for all of us, together and apart, but when Bob was off the road, all he wanted to do was get back on it. And in the meantime, he would stop by any bar or club where there was someone playing that would let him sit in. He seemed to always be on some stage, somewhere.
Offstage, we were everything you’d expect from lifelong friends and bandmates. We fought together (both on the same side and opposing), we celebrated together (both personal and professional milestones), and we watched each other, both near and far, as we went from teenagers to old men and all the stops in between.
I once heard Bobby refer to himself as “the greatest rhythm guitar player in the world” and it made me chuckle lightheartedly at my brother’s boastfulness. The thing is… he was probably right.
Time has proven that nobody will ever be able to replace Jerry Garcia — or Phil Lesh — and time will prove the same for Bob Weir.
They were the biggest influence on my own playing, more than any drummer, and they will continue to be the biggest influence on whatever I do next. (Con’t) ↓ Continued) Their inspiration will continue to take on many forms, as is the very nature of inspiration, but just as those three brothers of mine took inspiration from others and made something new and original out of it, it’s now time for tomorrow’s artists and visionaries to do the same. Keep going forward. Take the inspiration and do something new.
There are so many people who can rightfully say that their life would not have been the same without Bob Weir. That’s been true for me since I was 17. And through it all, the high times and the low tides, my love for him will not, indeed can not, fade away.
In the end, what more was there for him to do? He played it all… and never the same way, twice. I think he had finally said everything he had to say and now he’s on to the next thing. I just hope he was able to bring his guitar with him or otherwise he’ll go crazy.
“Sleep in the stars.
Don’t you cry.
Dry your eyes on the wind.”
And get there safely, old friend.
Love you forever,
Billy |
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| From as early as I can remember, Bobby was the kindest “uncle” I could ask for. I was so young when Jerry passed, so my memories of my dad with his musical brothers are mostly with him & Bob. I loved getting to spend time with the two of them. They always seemed to act like teenagers together, as if they were back in Menlo Park in 1965 and no time had passed. When I began playing music myself he was so supportive, and especially when Terrapin started he – like my dad – seemed to thrive on joining us youngsters in whatever musical nonsense we wanted to get up to. My friend Evan reminds me that Bob came to our…junior year?..high school talent show where we played Sugar Magnolia, and he was thrilled with how we played it and so complimentary about the performance. From that moment to nearly 25 years later inviting me to join him and Dead & Company in front of thousands & thousands of people this past summer – he has always been so encouraging to me and others like me up there making music and joining in the fun. And of course, top of mind these days is how loving and wonderful Bobby & Natascha (and Monet & Chloe!) were to all of us in the wake of my dad’s passing, and how protective they all were to Claire & I at the Kennedy Center Honors and MusiCares. I send all of my love to them. We share so much unique life experience, and this is one more that we all experience. Fare thee well, Ace. F’kn A
“We will not speak but stand inside the rain
And listen to the thunder shout
‘I am! I am! I am! I am!’”
– Grahame Lesh |
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| Photo Credit: Chloe Weir |
| Our beloved Bobby is enjoying the rewards for a life well lived.
He was a singular force, leading us through song and celebration as only he could.
An unparalleled artist, Bob gave his entire life to storytelling, and never wavered.
We know he will live on in the hearts of all those who knew him, loved him, and everyone who has found peace, comfort, and inspiration through his music – as they will until the end of time.
We send our love to his family, friends and Dead Heads everywhere.
See you down the road Ace…we love you.
– Dead & Company |
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