Despite the cute-looking animals and the laid-back scene depicted on the front of Terrapin Station, the freefall which Grateful Dead found themselves in is a staggering contrast. Once more, the band found themselves with financial strain, this time with the closure of their label. For the first time since American Beauty, an album made to pay off the debts accrued by the band, Grateful Dead were driven by a two-fold desire. Setting the course straight once more but also having an abundance of material at hand, seemingly spur of the moment writings which were inspired by rare weather woes and this desire to retreat into the country. Gone is their psychedelic sound, and for one of the first times in their history. Grateful Dead opens the doors to outside influences. Producer Keith Olsen steps in and tries to make the most of an ever-changing instrumental and genre focus from the band.
He does rather well, as does the band in their new free-flow jazz-like style. Funky, groovy moments open the album, with Estimated Prophet sounding far cleaner than the band had ever sounded. Olsen’s doing, for sure. It feels as though the instrumentals are separated that much more, and it makes for a fascinating listen. A moment where the music does not quite gel together, instead, each musician is given a standout part. They are each seemingly told their work is the most important section, give it their all, and are then chopped down in the studio. It works well for Terrapin Station, an album which survives because the tease of a “brand new beat,” as it is dubbed on Dancin’ in the Streets, oozes the style of the times. Cool moments and bass-driven grooves which suits Grateful Dead, whose psychedelic start would have made for an incredible backing here.
It is dubiously absent, though. More credit to the band for not wanting to re-tread their instrumental grounds. What they offer instead is nothing incredible, but the jamming which appears on Passenger is a real thrill. One of the few thrills of Terrapin Station, but a thrill, nonetheless. Grateful Dead struggles to decide on a genre or tone, and the result is a messy piece which relies on everything from backing vocals, the suggestion of improvised instrumentals and a lyrical lead where the stripped-back approach, the standard recording sound, shines a light on their best and worst studio habits. Straight-shooting country on Samson and Delilah is made that much better by a fiery vocal performance from Bob Weir, adapting the traditional song into a roaring, intense cover.
Olsen’s production does give the album a still-surviving, modern edge. Sunrise is a masterpiece. It’s an out-of-nowhere piece from the band where string sections and a phenomenal Donna Godchaux performance come together for a lightning-in-a-bottle moment. Grateful Dead rarely dealt with teary-eyed sincerity, and when they do, it offers songs like this. It was never their focus, but on this off chance, a sound which is wildly different to anything preceding it is the sound of a new direction. Terrapin Station has wonderful moments to it, though many of those pieces would drift a tad too far in future for the band. It would inspire them to take on a more pop-friendly sound, a plainer rock which would derail them. Still, if that is the price of admission to Terrapin Station, it is well worth it. Sparks of the old sound can be heard on the title track, a sixteen-minute epic, but the real joys come before it.
