Sierra Roots Music

02/07/2026

01/29/2026

With John McEuen – I just got recognized as one of their top fans! 🎉

01/29/2026

And the cancellations with NSO keep up at Kennedy Center. And here, this is Phillip Glass not allowing his symphony to be premiered and performed there. I don’t believe it requires his appearance. Renée Fleming cancelled her performance with them last week. Many of the upper tier artists are speaking more loudly now. The artists must lead when the subject is freedom in America.

It is hard if not impossible to walk in other’s shoes, but given who I am, and if my job was working in the National Orchestra, I would gladly play orchestra concerts in the local high school auditoriums for a year or two—-whatever it takes—double the price of the tickets and have all the greats stand in line waiting to play with you again, and more importantly watch your audience come back in droves and really applaud you, honor you. But again, I walk in my shoes.

If they offered to perform my “Americana Symphony”, you know what I’d say…? Can you perform it in a local high school auditorium instead? I’ll attend that one! True story. The day before my symphony was recorded by the great Marin Alsop and the Baltimore Symphony about 40 miles away from the KC, the orchestra performed it on a runout at a high school auditorium. And as a listener in the audience, I was transported to a musical heaven. I’ll never forget it. This is coming from someone who was on the Kennedy Center Artist Committee for 15 years, performed as soloist on the Honors 3 times, played my compositions with the National Symphony twice, and performed many more times in that great building. I even sat at a dinner table there with Senator Kennedy—in the very building named for his brother, in honor of his sacrifice to the nation—a living monument full of music that JFK would have loved.

01/25/2026

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

Photo by Adrian Boot Retro Photo Archive

01/25/2026

01/23/2026

I can’t think of anyone that needed to play live music any more than Bob. It went past devotion, past dedication, past obsession. It seemed to me more like self identification. I think he felt it is what and who he was. I also cannot think of anyone who played more live shows. We could depend on it like the sun coming up.

He was so unique as a human and a musician. His mannerisms when he spoke were just as singular as the way he played guitar, sang, composed and lived day to day.

After I got the news I was talking with Jimmy Herring about which Bob song was our favorite. A silly premise with so many songs to choose from, but a catalyst for remembering him. It helps one realize just how deep our history went. (I still can’t decide between Looks Like Rain and Cassidy for whatever it’s worth.) Some people can write songs that just never get old.

Thank you Bob for pulling me into your orbit. There are no words that could ever encompass the last ten years we shared together. I’m so blessed to have been a part of it all. And thank you for being so generous with your time and sharing yourself with so many of us younger musicians. It does my heart good to see so many pictures of you with so many musicians that weren’t in the Grateful Dead. Thank you for including us. There is no higher form of musical grace.

To Natascha, Monet and Chloe, my heart breaks for you. And my heart goes out to you and all of your extended family. I’m so grateful for all the laughs we have shared over the last 10 years.

Lastly if there is anything we can do to thank and honor Bob for all that he gave us it would be to fully live our life. At some point we’re all going to be gone. This life is such a gift, such a golden opportunity. Please don’t let someone else define it. Let it proceed by it’s own design. Follow that inner voice and go for broke!

Lastly, a friend of mine noted that it was sad that Bob died at just 78 years old. I told him I thought Bob packed at least 146 years into it.

And now he’s with his brothers and sisters again on the other side.

(Photo by Jay Blakesberg Photography at Folsom Field, 7/14/18)

01/18/2026

I wish I could join all of you for Bobby’s “Homecoming” today, but I’m having my own Hawaiian send off for his spirit, while I simultaneously grieve for the loss of my friend.

I think it’s great that the community is going to gather afterwards at the Warfield — that makes sense to me, as we all know about the healing power of live music and togetherness. One last howl at the moon.

You know, the Grateful Dead recorded portions of Reckoning and Dead Set during our 15-show run at The Warfield in 1980 and Jerry still has his name on the dressing room, so I’m sure the ghosts will be rocking in the rafters tonight.

When we used to play there, in place of a band name, Bill Graham just wrote on the marquee: “They aren’t the best at what they do. They’re the only ones that do what they do.” He wouldn’t even put the band name up there. Everyone knew.

I’ll have all of you in my heart today as I look out over the waves to the horizon, while I converse with so many of the memories that have proven to last a lifetime. (I’ll also be tuning into the livestream, I’m sure).

Okay, Bobby. You never were one for eulogies. But if I knew the way, I would take you home….

11/17/2025

In 1970, David Crosby walked into Wally Heider Studios carrying a twelve string guitar and a bag of clothes because he had not been home in days. He dropped the guitar case, stared at the floor, and said, “I cannot sing tonight.” His girlfriend Christine Hinton had been killed in a car crash three weeks earlier. Crosby had been driving around the hills for hours, talking to himself, trying to outrun the grief. The studio was his only shelter.
Graham Nash and Jerry Garcia were already inside. Nash had cleared the schedule. Garcia sat with a pedal steel on his lap. When Crosby finally sat down, Garcia told him, “Play something. It does not have to make sense.” Crosby hit a single chord that rang so long the tape operator looked up. That chord became the doorway into Laughing, one of the strangest and most fragile songs of his career.
Crosby’s life was slipping out of his hands. He was using heavily, sleeping in bursts, and arguing with record executives who wanted polished singles. He refused. He told them that if the music sounded clean, it was a lie. When sessions for his first solo album began, he walked into the studio barefoot, carrying two notebooks of scattered lyrics and a stack of loose melody lines. Nash asked him how the album would work without structure. Crosby answered, “Let the truth tell us where to go.”
The truth came in pieces. On one night in early 1971 he recorded almost six minutes of vocal harmony for the song Orleans by stacking his own voice into a cathedral like shape. Engineer Stephen Barncard said he had never seen anyone build a choir out of themselves. On another night Crosby broke down in front of the microphone during the take for Traction in the Rain. Instead of stopping, he asked Barncard to keep rolling. The emotion stayed on the record.
The album, If I Could Only Remember My Name, confused critics when it came out in February 1971. It later became a cult masterpiece, a strange and beautiful map of a man trying to survive loss while his life collapsed around him.
Crosby once said, “Music is the part of me that does not lie.” That is the core of his story. When everything else fell apart, he built something honest enough to hold him together.

11/17/2025

Crosby was a great talent who was full of demons. By his own admission he was "an as***le". But, you cannot lie regarding his talent. His lyrics, his vocals, particularly his harmony singing, added depth and beauty to anything he would be a part of.
I read his autobiography, and he pulled no punches about his abrasive personality. He also gave credit to his time he spent in jail to clean his act up from his drug abuse saying it was the only way for him to come clean.
His legacy might be said he was of 2 parts, that of the as***le he could often be as well as the gifted carrying person reflected in his lyrics and music.
I admit being a big fan of David but accepting the two parts of him. Having had a friendship with someone who was bipolar I understand a little of that challenge it is to deal with one like Crosby.
Cindy and I attended a concert in Grass Valley a few years back with Graham Nash's book tour, "Wild Tales: A Rock & Roll Life". He touched on that difficulty of having Crosby as a close friend. I am the same age as Nash. I purchased that book, it was a good read.
If you wish to get more on David's life read his book, "Long Time Gone" as well as Joni Mitchell's "In my own Words" I would recommend along with Nash's "Wild Tales: A Rock & Roll Life" as well. You can get a good insight to each performer as an individual as well as how they influenced each other and the entire world of music.

In 1970, David Crosby walked into Wally Heider Studios carrying a twelve string guitar and a bag of clothes because he had not been home in days. He dropped the guitar case, stared at the floor, and said, “I cannot sing tonight.” His girlfriend Christine Hinton had been killed in a car crash three weeks earlier. Crosby had been driving around the hills for hours, talking to himself, trying to outrun the grief. The studio was his only shelter.
Graham Nash and Jerry Garcia were already inside. Nash had cleared the schedule. Garcia sat with a pedal steel on his lap. When Crosby finally sat down, Garcia told him, “Play something. It does not have to make sense.” Crosby hit a single chord that rang so long the tape operator looked up. That chord became the doorway into Laughing, one of the strangest and most fragile songs of his career.
Crosby’s life was slipping out of his hands. He was using heavily, sleeping in bursts, and arguing with record executives who wanted polished singles. He refused. He told them that if the music sounded clean, it was a lie. When sessions for his first solo album began, he walked into the studio barefoot, carrying two notebooks of scattered lyrics and a stack of loose melody lines. Nash asked him how the album would work without structure. Crosby answered, “Let the truth tell us where to go.”
The truth came in pieces. On one night in early 1971 he recorded almost six minutes of vocal harmony for the song Orleans by stacking his own voice into a cathedral like shape. Engineer Stephen Barncard said he had never seen anyone build a choir out of themselves. On another night Crosby broke down in front of the microphone during the take for Traction in the Rain. Instead of stopping, he asked Barncard to keep rolling. The emotion stayed on the record.
The album, If I Could Only Remember My Name, confused critics when it came out in February 1971. It later became a cult masterpiece, a strange and beautiful map of a man trying to survive loss while his life collapsed around him.
Crosby once said, “Music is the part of me that does not lie.” That is the core of his story. When everything else fell apart, he built something honest enough to hold him together.

10/30/2025

Recorded for "Ohne Filter¨, Baden-Baden, Germany, on Thursday, October 31th, 1991Marcia Ball (Piano, Vocals)Mark "Kaz" Kazanoff (Saxophone)Derek O´Brien (Gui...