By David Dodd
Here’s the plan—each week, I will blog about a different song, focusing, usually, on the lyrics, but also on some other aspects of the song, including its overall impact—a truly subjective thing. Therefore, the best part, I would hope, would not be anything in particular that I might have to say, but rather, the conversation that may happen via the comments over the course of time—and since all the posts will stay up, you can feel free to weigh in any time on any of the songs! With Grateful Dead lyrics, there’s always a new and different take on what they bring up for each listener, it seems.
Former United States Poet Laureate Billy Collins had this to say about poetry itself:
And how will it ever end?
unless the day finally arrives
when we have compared everything in the world
to everything else in the world,…
- From “The Trouble With Poetry.”
In the Bob Weir / John Perry Barlow composition “Cassidy,” Barlow sets himself the task of comparing a newborn baby girl, named Cassidy, with the legendary “Cowboy Neal” who previously appeared in “That’s It For the Other One.” In this case, the comparison is a study in contrasts, even as the two Cassidys intersect in the life of the band. “There he goes, and now here she starts — hear her cry.”
I think each of us, listening and singing along, can hear our entire lives in this song. We arrive and we are lost to the world, eventually. I love the contrasting images of the colt drawing the coffin cart, of the scorched ground being grown green again, of the night-time washed clean.
Barlow wrote this song for the newborn Cassidy Law, daughter to the band’s beloved office manager and early archivist and caretaker of the Deadheads, Eileen Law. Neal Cassady died in February, 1968, near San Miguel de Allende, apparently from the effects of exposure to the elements. Cassidy (note the different spelling) Law was born in 1970. In the song, the two are linked in the way we always link those who have passed away and those who bear their names into the future.
The Dead have quite a few songs about the arc of birth to death. “Black Peter,” “Ripple,” “Crazy Fingers,” and others all mention these salient facts of our existence. I believe that the knowledge we will die is what defines us as humans, though of course it seems that other animals must know this. (I’ve always said that I want these words on my gravestone: “I knew this would happen.”) I think maybe the band’s name has something to do with this.
I know several people for whom this song is particularly evocative of a sense of comfort in the passing of loved ones. And maybe it’s the sense of things going on despite the deaths of friends and family—or the wonderful way that the flight of the seabirds in the song, scattering like lost words, convey the beauty we can find in the midst of things falling apart. I don’t know.
Kesey and Cassady
“Cassidy” first appeared on Weir’s solo album, Ace (1972), and it has appeared on many live releases. It’s been in the Ratdog and Furthur repertoire steadily.
The Grateful Dead played this song a lot (334 times), and continuously, although they did not debut it until 1974, when they played it once, on March 23, at the Cow Palace. (This was the show where the Wall of Sound first appeared ((“The Sound Test”)) and the other first-time-played in the show was “Scarlet Begonias.”) From 1976 on, it remained in steady rotation. The song’s final performance by the Dead took place on July 6, 1995, at Riverport Amphitheatre in Maryland Heights, Missouri—the band’s third-to-last concert. It was almost always a first-set tune.
“Cassidy” contains a nice wide-open jam spot, and the band ventured quite a distance in those jams, reaching into space before coalescing back, as if by magic, into the “Flight of the seabirds” reprise.
Here’s a talking point for everyone, if poetry, Neal, and life and death don’t get you going: how many children, dogs, cats, etc. have been named Cassidy since this song was written? I have known quite a number myself. And it’s not just “Cassidy.” I have met many others with Dead-inspired names. I myself have had cats named China and Cosmic Charley. There must be Stellas, Altheas, Shannons, Delias, Ann-Maries, and so on. Maybe you ARE one of these! I would love to hear some good stories about names. I think there must be a number of Jeromes out there.
Barlow seems fascinated by names and naming: “What shall we say, shall we call it by a name?” he asks in “Let It Grow.” “I will sing you love songs written in the letters of your name,” he writes in “Looks Like Rain,” as well as this song’s “Speaks his name, though you were born to me, Cassidy.”
In Oliver Trager’s The American Book of the Dead, he quotes Eileen as saying she had picked out the name before the birth, because “I thought it sounded good for either a boy or a girl.” And Weir, who was strumming the incipient tune in the room next door to the birth, says “I named in ‘Cassidy’ because it was born the same day as Cassidy Law.”
One thing writing these weekly blogs posts is teaching me, is that no matter how long I have lived with these songs, they have more to give, and I have more to learn about the songs. I’ve been corrected on at least one point every week by the most excellent folks who take the time to comment on the posts. I take time to re-read the material I can lay my hands on (having given away most of my Grateful Dead library a few years back to the Marin History Museum…). And I stumble across some gems in the essays and entries I do find. Richard Gehr, in the liner notes to “So Many Roads,” writes beautifully about the lyrics, and has enlightening things to say about “Cassidy.” He describes the song as “[tuning] in to the lively, lonely frequency of “Cowboy Neal” Cassady.”
I bought the LP version of ACE when it was released in the spring of 72. One of the best studio Dead albums even though it was a solo concept.In late June three friends and I drove cross country from New England to the west coast and had an 8-track copy of ACE. That album along with Aoxomoxoa and the Stones album "Exile on Main Street" became the soundtrack for our own "On the Road "great American adventure. The song "Cassidy" was very much the road song on that trip.Flash forward to June 1975 and I read "On the Road" while hitchhiking from Missoula to Yellowstone. That was my first intro to the life and times of Neal Cassady.Flash forward to 1991 Shoreline- Grateful Dead. I was talking with Zane Kesey and his wife Stephanie when Cassidy Law walked up and said hello. Her smile beamed and I felt honored by her kindness.Up to now I've read most of Jack Kerouac's books.I love the idea of the the song "Cassidy"where where souls depart and new life begins. Welcome spring and today is Jack Kerouac's birthday. Jack's book "Big Sur" is a masterpiece with great images of Neal driving his old Willy's station wagon down the coast highway. I think the song "Cassidy" is one of Barlow's greatest works. And thanks to "Ace" Weir for his skill on this song.
...but none who credit their name to Barlow/Weir. The Dead has such a rich trove of names to choose from. I named my cat Althea.
Was not too long ago picking up a coffee in a McDonald's and was waited on by a very cute young Cassidy. Asked if her parents were Deadheads. She said her mother was a big Partridge Family fan.
I've known a slew of Cassidys. My first born, now 17, is Jessica Grace for dear JG. I was pregnant w/ her the last time I saw the band in Memphis. My sweet beautiful StellaBlue Bella turned 15 in Dec.,she's a Chow/Shep. mix and the best girl I've ever had ,though gettin' so old now. We call it "The Circle Of Death". We have Samson and Delilah our sibling kitties.I've known a Jed,Aiko and Sugar Magnolia. I want an Esau! and Rubin and Cherise!
Met her at the Whole Earth store in Menlo Park. Later she worked at Place Magazine in Palo Alto. Early 70's. Sweet Anne Marie was from San Mateo. Lived at the cinematic Kesey house in La Honda for a bit. Spent some times there and Boots and Saddles. Had a sparkling 55 Buick blue convertible last time I saw her. She headed to the Colorado River with a Rafting Rats bunch in '77 or so. Was she the one in FOTD? Who knows, not me-but she was a special song in her ownself and gorgeously full of life. She had that Long Brown Hair, from Must Have Been the Roses and wore them in her hair often. My heart's delight for as long as she would have me. As I see it now it wasn't long enough for me ,but it was for her. Nice to have been there.
well, we knew it had to happen. We're wondering why no one posted video...
And how will it ever end?
unless the day finally arrives
when we have compared everything in the world
to everything else in the world…
Wow. I've been doing exactly that for almost twelve years now - biggest data analysis project I've ever embarked upon, and my old gray cat, Cassady, was right there with me through it all....in spirit now...but it's all the same to me...
Peace to all,
I guess we had something of an unspoken agreement- I would choose the baby's name if it were a girl, and she if it were a boy. Knowing full well the significance of the song, I picked Cassidy, mainly because I had lost my dear sweet grandmother just 5 months prior and wanted to honor her by incorporating her name as well- Cassidy Elisabeth. It had a nice ring to it. Andrew turned out to be a boy, and that was 22 and a half years ago. Boy or girl, I still could not be happier.
But I had to think in the months between her passing and his arrival, that the two might've enjoyed some time together. A couple months ago, Andrew told me that he had dreamed of someone who was his grandmother- it definitely wasn't my mother- but she seemed awfully familiar to him... like he'd met her before.
As is Iam Grateful, I too am a cat lover and have had many cats in these last 35 years, and as you know, cats come and they go and to have one that stays with you for 20 years, that is a true bond of love and devotion and you can only get with a cat. I had a cat, his name was Bear, he was the most loving and playful cat ever, he would go door to door in the neighborhood and do tricks for the folks for treats, everyone around knew Bear, he would make his rounds and do his little tricks, sit up, roll over, shake hands, just like a dog, only better. Just like his name sake, he died in an auto accident.
Enter Ruby Begonia, a black cat that shone deep red in the sun, she was a beauty. We were going to name her scarlet, but Ruby just fit better. Gone in the wink of an eye, one day she was there, the next, gone and never seen again.
Enter Jerry, big badass tabby, ruled the roost, lived for a short time before ran down by dogs and killed.
Enter Lil Jerry, sweet and cute, black and white, feline lieukemia took him from us.
Enter Phil, PJ for short, best cat ever, lived with us thru three moves, then just vanished in to thin air.
I have a real problem with people who just pick up animals from along side the road thinking that they are helping them, they could be someones pet, just lost or out roaming around, some times these pets do not have tags or leashes or any identifying marking or collar. For anyone who has just lost a pet, there one min and gone the next, this is the worst thing that can happen, there is no closure, you don't know what happened to your soulmate and all you can do is hope that they are in a good place and not all the other horrible things that you can imagine one thinks when their pet is stolen. This has happened to me several times and I for one would like to get my hands on these people just for one day so perhaps I could make them understand just how hurtful it is to "pick up a pet" along side of the road and take it home and make it yours. Now, I am petless for this exact reason and my next pet will never go outside, never leave my side unless they are secure in their surroundings.
Actually, I have heard that there is a bounty out for stray cats and dogs, and in this economic time, people will do anything for a buck, even kill your best friend. So, to all who have had pets stay with them for life, you are very lucky.
my favorite moment was somewhere on the 1987 summer tour, when I overheard some Head in the crowd calling his wandering canine: "Barlow! Here Barlow!"