Grateful Dead – From the Mars Hotel Review

The trouble with spending so long on the stage is you spend the first studio return on your hits, the follow-up on whatever is left. Where Grateful Dead’s post Wake of the Flood effort, From the Mars Hotel, is by no stretch a bad record, it does have that slow, sinking feeling surrounding it. Great fun is what you so often get with Grateful Dead records, even if the lyrical choices, the topic itself, is of lesser value. But the Uncle Sam swinging, blue suede shoes knock heard on opener U.S. Blues is a pounce on a period of music which became relevant once more after the cultural implosion of Elvis Presley. Slight references to the times, The King and the impact, or perceived lack of in the case of The Dead’s suggestions here, are fascinating.  

From the Mars Hotel may not be as well-remembered as the albums preceding it, but it does offer a remarkable understanding of how death recontextualises the work of musicians. Their stripped-down sound leaves plenty of space for instrumental grooves. From the Mars Hotel certainly relies on the catchy notes, the thrills and spills of guitar endurance. Add in a bit of mimicry and similarity to the Bob Dylan songs of the last decade, and you get the whole of From the Mars Hotel. A likeable enough go around with a few hits within, dependent on your interest in hearing Jerry Garcia and Robert Hunter write with a plainer direction. There is still a fiery adventure to be found within, the high points of their opening song are never quite reached again, but there is tremendous confidence in the storytelling style of a track like China Doll. Heavenly bells, gunfighter ballads, all of it is steeped in irony and reflections on American culture through the 1960s.  

From Marty Robbins to the Cold War and back again to The King and psychedelic hang-ups, From the Mars Hotel quickly turns into one of the best Grateful Dead albums around on repeat listens. A tremendous grower of an album which settles well once returned to. Once the tonal contrast from song to song is accepted as part of the erratic reflection. Insanity in the mountains on Unbroken Chain provides that fine line between the past and present, the glitchy, space-age sounding instrumentals overlapping the sweeter, groove-laden guitar and bass work, is key to that uncanny feeling From the Mars Hotel has. Softer adaptations of what would become the modern sound, the punk noise of Elvis Costello, can be heard on Scarlet Begonias. 

What makes From the Mars Hotel such a strong album is its honest reflection on a much-loved time for cultural growth. That rose-tinted view is not a reality for many, and The Dead’s efforts on here, bar the Bob Weir-written generalities of Money Money, do a grand job at understanding the decades of influence were also twenty years of hardship and hate. From the Mars Hotel remains a firm route through to a true side of the 60s’ influence. The howls of fun on the road are not as they seem, the edge of reality found on From the Mars Hotel is not the promised land psychedelic rock promised but a stark, rock-laden reality check. Grateful Dead’s effort here remains slightly forgotten, but a crucial understanding of the times that were, and the appreciation we have for them now we don’t have to live through it.