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Rebecca Kilgore
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Terry Gross
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Dave Davies
This is Fresh air. I'm Dave Davies.
Dave Frishberg
Truckin got my chips cashed in Keep truckin' like the duda man Together no less in line just keep truckin again.
Dave Davies
Bob Weir, the guitarist, singer, songwriter and founding member of the Grateful Dead, died recently at the age of 78. The dead were a unique phenomenon of rock and roll spawned by a chance meeting between Weir and Jerry Garcia on New Year's Eve in 1963. The band did plenty of recording, but was probably best known for its long improvisational concerts attended by dedicated followers who traveled on the band's tour route and camped out at multiple shows. While Jerry Garcia was the band's lead guitarist and singer, Weir became known for his inventive rhythm guitar. Bob Perez of the New York Times wrote that Weir strummed his rhythm chords lightly, nimbly and malleably, charting and shaping the ever shifting undercurrents of the Dead's songs and jams. While the band officially ended with Jerry Garcia's death in 1995, surviving members continued playing their song in new groups, including Dead and company. Weir and the other members of the Grateful Dead were inducted into the Rock and Roll hall of Fame in 1994, given a Lifetime Achievement Grammy Award in 2007 and named Kennedy center honorees in 2024. Bob Weir continued to play his own music and was on our show in 2016 when he'd released his first album of original songs in 30 years, titled Blue Mountain. Many of the songs were co written with Josh Ritter. Weir said the album was inspired by the time when, as a teen, he ran away to work on a cattle ranch in Wyoming. The ranch was owned by the parents of John Perry Barlow, who later became Weir's songwriting partner. Weir spoke with Fresh Air's Sam Brigger and they started with the opening track from the album called Only A R.
Bob Weir
I was born up in the mountains, Raised up in a desert town. And I never saw the ocean till I was close to your age now oh Shenandoah, I long to see you hey hey, you rolling river oh Shenandoah, I long to see you hey hey, hey Only you're ever gonna make things right Only you're ever gonna make things right Only you're ever gonna.
Sam Brigger
You said that this album was inspired by a summer when you ran away to become a cowboy In Wyoming. How old were you?
Bob Weir
I was 15.
Sam Brigger
So did you already know how to ride? Were you herding cattle?
Bob Weir
Yeah, when I was a little kid, my folks were sort of in the horsey community, and also we used to vacation up in Squaw Valley, which in the wintertime was in California here. In the wintertime, it was a ski resort. In the summertime, it was a cattle ranch. And during the summers when we were up there, there was a riding stable that we spent a lot of time at. And the old cowpokes who ran the riding stable, a couple of them took a shine to me and sort of taught me how to ride and some of the basic skills of cowboy and, you know, how to cut cattle and stuff like that. I never did really learn how to rope very well, but by the time I was 9 or 10, I had pretty good grasp of the basics.
Sam Brigger
Through your career, you've seemed to be drawn to cowboy and country songs. Some of them you've written, like Mexicali Blues. And then you've also covered a lot of songs like me and my uncle Marty Robbins song El Paso. You've also done songs like Johnny Cash's Big River. Why do you think you're drawn to those tunes?
Bob Weir
You know, I've actually wondered that myself. And, you know, it just. It occurs to me that I just. I lived that lifestyle for a little bit. Not just that summer, but I go back out there and work with Barlow. And, you know, part of working with Barlow when I was doing that was we'd live on the ranch and we had the ranch to run, and if I helped out, we'd have more time to write. So I spent a lot of time doing that kind of stuff, and I kind of got steeped in that tradition a little bit. And also, for what it's worth, when I was a kid living there in the bunkhouse, there were, you know, in the evening, the old boys would. They'd pop a cork and they'd tell stories and sing songs. And I was the kid with the guitar, so I was their accompaniment. And so I learned a bunch of that stuff and, as I say, got steeped in that tradition. And I just sort of carried it around in my hip pocket for the rest of my days. But it's not so much the songs that stuck with me as the delivery and particularly the storytelling aspect of. Of singing those songs or putting them across.
Sam Brigger
Well, I wanted to ask you about that because it. I've noticed that it feels like you like songs that have a narrative to them a lot of your songs, they tell us some kind of a story, which I think contrast with the other main songwriting team of the Grateful Dead, Jerry Garcia and Robin Hunter. Their songs were often, like, impressionistic. They were like. They would generally, like, evoke a mood or something. Whereas when I listen to your songs, I find myself imagining a specific narrator character. Do you think that's true?
Bob Weir
Well, that's kind of my approach. That's what I'm most comfortable with. For years, I've held forth with the opinion that every artist of any stripe is first and foremost a storyteller. And the story can be impressionistic or it can be linear in nature or. And I'm comfortable with either of them. Though when I sit pen to paper, more often than not, it comes out more or less linear. You know, I see songs as little movies, you know, short movies. And, you know, I try to let the characters most fully, as fully as possible express themselves and let the story develop so that there's, you know, there's intrigue and all that kind of stuff.
Sam Brigger
So you have a song on the new album Blue Mountain, that's called Kai Basi, which is about 12 step meetings and addiction. You know, the Grateful Dead had a long and intense history with drugs. Like, the band got its break as the house band for Ken Kesey's Acid Tests. And ever since then, the Dead had been linked to psychedelics. And, you know, you've been forthright saying that for a time. LSD was very informative to your way of thinking. But, you know, there's also. There was a lot of tragedy around drugs and alcohol and the Grateful Dead band members, you know, either died from overdose like Brent Midland, or from drug or alcohol related illnesses like Pigpen and, of course, Jerry Garcia. And I'm not really sure what my question is, but I guess I was thinking about all that history and we listened to that song, and I was wondering how it might have informed the way you wrote it.
Bob Weir
Christ, I don't know how to address that. Well, I can't deny that I had a fair bit of, you know, either personal experience with drugs, alcohol or whatever, or close friends of mine had intense experiences with them. So I kind of. I guess I know what I'm talking about to some degree when I'm helping a character flesh himself out in that regard.
Dave Davies
Bob Weir speaking with Sam brigger, recorded in 2016. We'll hear more after this short break. This is FRESH air.
Bob Weir
This week on up first, from Minneapolis to Venezuela to the Federal Reserve, one.
Dave Davies
Of the biggest stories of the year.
Bob Weir
So far is how the Trump administration is using presidential power.
Dave Davies
We're following every angle, so you start.
Bob Weir
Each day knowing what's happening, what's true and what isn't on up First Listen.
Terry Gross
On the NPR app or wherever you get your podcasts.
Bob Weir
This week on the NPR Politics podcast. Iran, Greenland, Venezuela. How does all of that square up with America?
Terry Gross
First, it's not that Trump's ideology changed.
Rebecca Kilgore
Trump has really just gotten better at.
Terry Gross
Using the levers of power, and he's.
Dave Frishberg
Just doing a lot more.
Bob Weir
Listen to the NPR Politics podcast every.
Dave Davies
Weekday afternoon on the NPR app or.
Bob Weir
Wherever you get your podcasts this week.
Terry Gross
On Consider this Minneapolis. Are federal agents there operating with absolute immunity?
Bob Weir
The only immunity the officer would have is if he could demonstrate his actions were necessary and proper to carrying out his federal function.
Terry Gross
Listen to consider this one major news story in 15 minutes every afternoon on the NPR app or wherever you get your podcasts.
Dave Davies
Let's get back to Weir's 2016 interview with Fresh Air's Sam Brigger. While they were talking, they listened to the Dead's song Sugar Magnolia, which Weir co wrote.
Dave Frishberg
Sugar Magnolia Gossip Exploring that's all they do. I don't care so much, baby down.
Bob Weir
By the river who she'd have to.
Dave Frishberg
Come up soon but there's sweet blossom Come on Under the willow we can have high times if you look back we can discover the wonders of nature.
Rolling in the rushes down by the.
Riverside she's got everything we like for she's got everything I need Takes the wheel when I'm seeing Double pays my.
Ticket when I speak.
Sam Brigger
When the Grateful Dead started playing, you were 17 years old and you lived on Ashbury street at the height of the counterculture in San Francisco. And the Grateful Dead and its music was really at the heart of that movement in a lot of ways, you know. At 17, were you prepared for that? It seems like such a young age to have all that thrust upon you.
Bob Weir
I was ready for anything. Come on. I was 17, 18, and the Haight Ashbury was popping. Now this was the summer of 66, spring and summer of 66. That was the real summer of love. 67. The media made it into something that we didn't recognize, called attention to it. And everything that had rattled loose in the rest of the country ended up in the Haight Ashbury.
Dave Davies
And.
Bob Weir
Things went kind of sideways there by then. But in 66, the Haight Ashbury was a youth ghetto. But it was, you know, it was a joyful place.
Sam Brigger
You were adopted when you were born and you met your Birth parents, pretty late in life, when you were around 50 years old. And I guess you had a close relationship with your father until he died last year. What did you learn about yourself from finally getting to meet him?
Bob Weir
Well, for instance, little things like, I always go outdoors to clip my fingernails and toenails, and he did, too. There are little mannerisms that you would think that you'd pick up by watching, but they were there. We walked, we carried ourselves the same way. We had the same sort of sense of humor, that kind of thing. He was a gentleman. He was an innate gentleman. And I think of myself as such as well. And he had a quality of leadership. He was basically born to it, and people always relied on him for it. And I've found that more or less come my way as well. It's a gig. Everybody has to have one. And people look to me for leadership a lot. It's just something that I can provide. It's not something that I want, you know, I'd rather people left me alone, but in that regard. But someone's got to do it.
Sam Brigger
So over the years, you must have imagined what your birth parents were like. How did that compare to actually meeting them?
Bob Weir
As it turns out, my dad, he had no idea I existed to begin with. He had had an affair with a girl in Tucson, where they were going to school, and she got pregnant and very quietly slipped away and had me in San Francisco, the famous liberal city, back then, and then came back and never let on that anything had happened. And so when we met, you know, it was a big surprise to both of them. Now I found out about his existence. My birth mother, after my adopted parents. A number of years after my adopted parents had checked out, she contacted me because I'd tried to find her, and it was not possible. So she ended up contacting me. And she had 12 other kids, so I didn't feel like I needed to complicate her life all that much. But we kept in touch, and I'd call her on Mother's Day, and every now and again we'd see each other and stuff like that. I'd send her flowers, that kind of thing. But she gave me my birth father's information last she knew of it. And he was a guy named Jack Parver, and he had been a student at University of Arizona. And so I got a private eye within about 10 minutes. He turned out the information that he was the commanding officer at the local. At our local Air Force base. And I sort of packed that under my pillow for a few years because I'm pathologically anti authoritarian, and. And I didn't figure that I needed the rejection that I was sure to find from this guy who's probably some sort of military authoritarian kind of guy. Then not long after Jerry checked out, my curiosity got to the point where I couldn't live with it anymore. And so I had to find that out. And so, you know, I figured I had three choices. I could drive up to his house in Nevada, up north of where I live, you know, about, oh, maybe eight, 10 miles from, as a crow flies from where I live, and just knock on his door. And I figured, okay, I don't want my first and last vision of my father watching him clutch his heart and fall over backwards. I figured I could write him a letter, but he might crumple that up and throw it away. So I figured, okay, I'll call him. And so I did. And he was on another line. I was disturbing him at the time. He said, listen, can you call back in 10 minutes? I told him, listen, my name is Robert Weir, and I live in Mill Valley, and I've been doing some research and turned up some information that might be of considerable interest to you. And he said, okay, well, I'm on another line right now. Can you call me back in 10 minutes? And so that was a long 10 minutes I waited, called him back and said, can I ask you a question or two regarding certain events that took place in Tucson 50 years ago? And he got real quiet. And he said, well, okay. And I said, well, did you know and were you perhaps romantically involved with a young lady by the name of Phyllis back in that time? And he said, well, he was alone. I could kind of hear it over the phone. He said, well, yeah. And I said, okay, well, sir, I don't know how many kids you have, but there's a strong, strong likelihood that you have one more than you know. And he got real quiet, and then he said, okay, the only Bob Weirthen I know of is this guy who sings and plays with the Grateful Dead. Apparently, his kids were fans. And I said, well, sir, that would be me. And then it got quiet again, and we talked for a little while, and then we met the next day for lunch at both of our favorite Mexican restaurant in here in Marin County. And we got real tight, real fast.
Sam Brigger
There's a. There's a touching story that one of his sons, I think, died of spinal cancer. Yeah, but he was a musician, too. And the family gave you that guitar, and for a long time, you would play that Guitar on stage, right?
Bob Weir
Yeah, it finally got stolen.
Sam Brigger
Oh, it did? Oh, that's terrible.
Bob Weir
Yeah.
Sam Brigger
And the son was a Grateful Dead fan, wasn't he?
Bob Weir
Well, all four of his sons were Grateful Dead fans, though the one who I never met was probably the least a Grateful Dead fan. He was more on his own. He was kind of into, you know, that country esque style of music that was real popular back in the 70s. He was a flashy but good telecaster player.
Sam Brigger
You and Jerry Garcia were the two lead singers of the Grateful Dead, and He died in 1995. And you've said before that he was like an older brother to you. At some point you started singing his songs in shows. Was that tough for you? Was that an easy decision to make and. Or was it hard for you to sing those songs at first?
Bob Weir
No, actually, it was a while before I decided I was going to go ahead and do it. I just had to feel it out. I knew it was coming, but I didn't know when. So I just waited until the time was right. Early on with Rat Dog, after Jerry checked out, I didn't do much Grateful Dead material at all. I did as little as I could to still keep people coming in the Doors, but I wasn't quite ready to go back there. And it's not an emotional sort of deal. I guess there was a little of that involved, but I just wanted to take a pause. It just seemed like I oughta. And then when I started doing it again, slowly, all the songs came. And one by one, they just sort of. They demanded that, okay, it's time. I gotta breathe again and you can help me do this. And so I went with it.
Sam Brigger
Well, Bob Weir, thanks so much for speaking with us.
Dave Davies
Well, thank you, Bob Weir of the Grateful Dead, speaking with Fresh Air's Sam Brigger. Recorded in 2016, Weir died recently at the age of 78. Coming up, we remember singer Rebecca Kilgore, a talented interpreter of American popular song. I'm Dave Davies, and this is Fresh air.
Dave Frishberg
Crazy rooster crowing Midnight.
Bob Weir
Balls of lightning.
Dave Frishberg
Roll along.
Bob Weir
Old men sing about their dreams Women laugh and children scream and.
Dave Frishberg
The band keeps playing on.
Bob Weir
A dancing turtle.
Dave Frishberg
But they kept on dancing.
Bob Weir
Come on, children Come on, children Come.
Dave Frishberg
On clap your hands.
Bob Weir
Well, the cool breeze came on Tuesday.
Dave Frishberg
And the corn's a bumper crop.
Dave Davies
And.
Bob Weir
The fields are full of dancing Full.
Dave Frishberg
Of singing and romancing the music never stop.
Bob Weir
NPR's podcast, Trump's Terms is your source for same day updates on big news.
Sam Brigger
About the Trump administration. Administration. Short, focused episodes. One topic at a time about five minutes or so. We carry out reporting from across all.
Bob Weir
Of NPR's coverage, so you are always getting the biggest, most urgent stories.
Sam Brigger
Listen to Trump's Terms on the NPR app or wherever you get your podcasts.
Dave Davies
Next, we're going to remember singer Rebecca Kilgore, a devoted interpreter of American popular song who died last week at the age of 76. You may have heard her in concert on the show, often with pianist Dave Frischberg. Terry's joined us to share some thoughts of her own about what makes Rebecca Kilgore special.
Terry Gross
Terri thanks, Dave. I think Becky did more concerts on her show than any other performer. Her repertoire was American popular song dating as far back as the 1930s. She performed with songwriter, pianist and singer Dave Frischberg in the 90s at the Heathman Hotel in Portland, Oregon. They both lived there and that enabled her to quit her job as a secretary at Reed College and have a real music career, recording many albums and performing around the world. It was great to record her for our show because she was always right on pitch, which meant we didn't need to do a lot of takes. It was her sense of rhythm that I loved most. She had such a natural sense of swing. I loved her for singing relatively obscure songs and reviving songs I'd never heard of. She struck me as kind of shy, but that may have contributed to another trait I loved. She called attention to the song and not herself. She didn't try to impress you with like high notes or dizzying scat singing. She knew how to bring a song to life and fill them with her delight in singing them. Becky died of Lewy Body Disease, and that has symptoms similar to Alzheimer's. And Dave Frischberg died of Alzheimer's in 2021. I always describe Becky as one of my favorite living singers, and I feel so lucky to have gotten the chance to work with her and to showcase her singing on our show. Rest in peace, Becky.
Dave Davies
Thanks, Terry. In 1995, Rebecca Kilgore first appeared on our show with Dave Frishberg at the piano. They opened their concert with a song from 1933 by Harold Arlin and Ted Kohler.
Dave Frishberg
I got my trousers pressed, shoes shined I had my coat and vest relined Take a look at my lapel See the flower, can't you tell I'm happy as the day is long haven't got a dime to lend I got a lot of time to spend Just a pocket full of air Feeling like a millionaire I'm happy as the day is Long got a heavy affair and I'm having my fun Am I walking on air? And gee, but I'm the lucky one. I got my peace of mind, Knock wood, I hear that love is blind.
Terry Gross
That's good.
Dave Frishberg
Cause the things I never see never seem to worry me. I'm happy as the day is long. I'm happy, happy, happy as the day is long. I'm happy, so happy Happy as the day is long.
Terry Gross
Got it.
Dave Frishberg
Happy up fair and I'm having my fun Am I walking on air, G. But I'm the lucky one. I got my peace of mind, Knock wood, I hear that love is blind. That's good. Cause the things I never see never seem to worry me. I'm happy as the day is long. I'm happy as the day is long.
Terry Gross
Wonderful. And that's Rebecca Kilgore singing with Dave Frishberg at the piano. Becky, welcome to FRESH air. This has been an ambition of mine for a long time to have you sing on the show, and I'm delighted that we're actually doing it. It's remarkable to me that you can sing as wonderfully as you do, and yet having you started so late professionally to actually sing in front of people.
Rebecca Kilgore
That's right. But I was a closet singer before that, so I had lots of practice in my own living room.
Terry Gross
You gave up your day job, what, just a couple of years ago?
Rebecca Kilgore
That's correct, actually. Two and a half, Yep.
Terry Gross
What was the turning point to give it up?
Rebecca Kilgore
I was working full time, and it was getting to be too much with all the gigs I had at night. And it was clear that I had to make a decision. And I had the support of my boss and my colleagues, and they said, yes, do it. So I quit my secretarial job.
Terry Gross
Equally remarkable to me is that you didn't even sing in front of people until, what, you were 30, 31?
Rebecca Kilgore
That's right.
Terry Gross
Do you have a good musical memory when you're trying to learn a song?
Rebecca Kilgore
Do you get it the first time or no? I wish I did. And that's. Boy, I wish I could just learn a song immediately, but I have to painstakingly play the melody on my guitar and sing along with it and read the notes and then read the lyrics and listen to it. So I absorb it both with sight sound and playing it physically on the guitar. It's a tedious procedure.
Terry Gross
Say you're learning a melody that has, like, a difficult interval. What's your idea of a difficult melody to learn?
Rebecca Kilgore
Well, lost life comes to mind, although I've never sung it and I don't even have any aspirations of singing it. But ballerina, ballerina, oh, boy. That took me a long time to learn.
Dave Frishberg
Dance, ballerina dance and do your pirouette in rhythm with your aching heart Dance, ballerina dance. You mustn't once forget a dancer has to dance the part.
Rebecca Kilgore
See what I mean?
Terry Gross
No. What makes that tricky? Because there's a lot of odd intervals and quick notes and what's an accidental.
Rebecca Kilgore
It's not in the scale.
Dave Frishberg
It's not in the scale. Yeah, but I think this part.
Bob Weir
All.
Dave Frishberg
Those non chord tones land on those big heavy accented beats. And you better hit them, otherwise. Otherwise you just sound awful.
Terry Gross
I'm interested in how you started performing together, which you do every week now in Portland.
Dave Frishberg
I came to Portland as a. Like to do my act, you know, at a place called Fathers. And Becky was playing with this band. Holy cats. This was about 81, I think, when I first met you, wasn't it 82 something, you know. So we've known each other quite a long time. I was knocked out with her then. She was the guitar player with the band, you know. But she was singing, she sounded great.
Terry Gross
And so you asked her to sing with you. I mean, how did you start?
Dave Frishberg
Well, later on, when I moved to Portland, I was offered this job at the Heathman and they said they wanted a singer and I thought of Becky and Becky.
Terry Gross
Did it change your singing at all to have Dave playing? I mean, I think he's just fantastic pianist. And I wonder if you think that that affected you.
Rebecca Kilgore
It's been the gig of my life. It's been the greatest gig. And I have, I think, the most sympathetic accompanist I could imagine. With Dave, I just. It's just wonderful to have him as an accompanist. And the other reason is that I get to bring in new songs every week and just put them in front of him and he plays them. So I get to increase my repertoire by leaps and bounds.
Dave Frishberg
Becky's a good arranger and a good guitar player and she knows how to write a good lead sheet. And it's increased my repertoire. It's enriched my repertoire quite a bit too.
Terry Gross
On your album I Saw Stars, you do a lot of songs that I love, and I love the way you do the song. So I'm gonna request a song from that cd. And this is no Love, no Nothing.
Dave Frishberg
No love, no nothing until my baby comes home no, sir, no nothing as long as baby must roam I promised him I'd wait for him till even Hades froze I'm lonesome, heaven knows but but what I said still goes no love, no nothing and that's a promise I'll keep no fun with no one I'm getting plenty of sleep My heart's striking though it's like an empty honeycomb home no love, no sir, no nothing Till my baby comes home. But what I said still goes no love, no nothing and that's a promise I'll keep no fun with no one I'm getting plenty of sleep My heart's on striking though it's like an empty honeycomb no love, no sir, no nothing Til my baby comes home no love, no sir, no nothing Till my baby come home.
Dave Davies
That's Rebecca Kilgore and Dave Frischberg. Recorded in 1995. She wasn't well known among the general public, but was a real favorite here at Fresh Air. She recorded a number of albums by herself and in duet with pianist Dave Frischberg. In 1999, they recorded a concert of songs by Dorothy Fields.
Terry Gross
Well, Dave, Becky, why don't you do one of Dorothy Fields? Actually her first hit. It was her first hit, I Can't Give youe Anything But Love, which, like the Sunny side of the street, has music by Jimmy McHugh. This song caught on after it was featured in the review. Lou Leslie's Blackbirds of 1928. Maybe you can do the verse for us also.
Rebecca Kilgore
Okay.
Dave Frishberg
G Boded Stuff to be broken. It's not a joke, kid, it's a curse. My luck is changing it's gotten from simply rotten to something worse who knows someday I will win too I'll begin to reach my prime now Though I see what our end is All I can spend is just my time I can't give you anything but love, baby that's the only thing I've plenty of, baby Dream a while Scheme of wild we're sure to find happiness and I guess all those things that you've always pined for Gee, I'd love to see you looking swell, baby diamond bracelets, Woolworths doesn't sell, baby Till that lucky day you know darn well baby I can't give you anything but love. Gee, I'd love to see you looking swell, baby diamond bracelets, Woolworth doesn't sell oh, baby Till that lucky day you know darn well baby I can't give you anything but love I can't give you anything but love.
Terry Gross
That song was written, I think, about a year before the Depression and obviously had particular resonance when the Depression hit. Shortly after Becky. Do you find Dorothy Field's lyrics particularly singable because they're so colloquial? You take a line like, Gee, I'd like to see you look and swell.
Rebecca Kilgore
See, I can get into a lyric like that. I love that. I'm not embarrassed to say that. Some corny lyrics I am. But this, it just sounds like you say colloquial and it's fun to say, you know.
Terry Gross
Dorothy Field's trademark as a lyricist is her cleverness, but she could also write really tender lyrics. And I think this song really proves that. This is The Way youy Look Tonight, a ballad that she wrote with Jerome Kern. It won an Academy Award. It was written for the Fred Astaire Ginger Rogers film Swing Time. And, you know, Dorothy Fields said that the first time Jerome Kern played her the melody, when right before she wrote the lyric for it, she thought it was so beautiful that she started to cry and she had to leave the room. Would you do the song for us?
Bob Weir
Sure.
Dave Frishberg
Someday when I'm awfully low.
Bob Weir
When the.
Dave Frishberg
World is cold I will feel a glow just thinking of you and the way you look tonight. Oh, but you're lovely with your smile so warm and your cheeks so soft There is nothing for me but to love you. Just the way you look tonight. With each word your tenderness grows Tearing my fear apart. And that laugh that wrinkles your nose Touches my foolish heart. Lovely. Never, never change. Keep that breathless charm. Won't you please arrange it. Cause I love you. Just the way you look tonight. Just the way you look tonight.
Terry Gross
That was beautiful. I want to thank you both for performing songs by Dorothy Fields for us. It's really been a pleasure.
Rebecca Kilgore
Thanks. It's been a pleasure for us.
Dave Frishberg
Thanks, Terry.
Dave Davies
Dave Frishberg and Rebecca Kilgore recorded in 1999 as part of our American Popular Song series. We'll hear more of their performances after a break. This is FRESH air. This is FRESH air. And we're remembering singer Rebecca Kilgore today. She died last week at the age of 76. Later in 1999, she and Dave Frishberg returned to FRESH AIR for a concert of Hoagie Carmichael songs, which was part of our American Popular Song series.
Terry Gross
Well, early in Hoagie Carmichael's Hollywood career, when he was a staff songwriter at Paramount Pictures, the studio teamed him up with Frank Lesser and Lesser as a composer and lyricist who's probably best known for writing the songs for Guys and Dolls. But at the time, he was just getting started as a lyricist. And so with Hoagy Carmichael. He wrote Small Fry, Heart and Soul and Two Sleepy People. I'm going to ask you to do Two Sleepy People. It was sung by Bob Hope and Shirley Ross in the 1938 movie thanks for the Memory. It's a wonderful song. Would you do it for us?
Bob Weir
Yeah, sure.
Dave Frishberg
Here we are out of cigarettes holding hands and yawning look how late it gets Two sleepy people by dawn's early light and too much in love to say goodnight.
Here we are in the cozy chair Picking on a wishbone from the Frigidaire Two sleepy people with nothing to say and too much in love.
To break away do you remember the nights we used to linger in the hall?
Father didn't like you at all do.
You remember the reason why we married in the fall?
To rent this little nest and get a bit of rest well, here we.
Are Just about the same Foggy little.
Fella Drowsy little dame Two sleepy people.
By dawn's early light and too much in love to say good night.
Rebecca Kilgore
Well.
Dave Frishberg
Here we are don't we look a mess? Lipstick on your collar Wrinkles in my dress Two sleepy people who know very well they're too much in love to.
Break the spell Here we are crazy in the head Gee, your eyes are gorgeous even when they're read too Sleepy people by dawn's early light and too much in love to say good night do you remember when we went dancing at the Palomar?
When it was over? Why, naturally. We cuddled in the car that's when.
I ran out of gas and I.
Was green as grass well, here we are keeping up the pace Letting each.
Tomorrow slap us in the face Two sleepy people by dawn's early light and.
Too much in love to say good night.
Terry Gross
I think that's one of the most successfully conversational songs I know, both in the lyric and in the music.
Rebecca Kilgore
Well, it makes it really easy to sing as a duet that way.
Bob Weir
Yeah.
Dave Frishberg
Oh, yeah, it's real. It's two real people.
Terry Gross
Well, the next Hoagie Carmichael song I'd like you to do for us is called the Nearness of youf. And although it's one of his most recorded songs, I don't think it's nearly as well known as his other famous songs like Skylock and Stardust and Rock and Chair in Georgia. The lyric is by Ned Washington, who was given Hoagie's Melody by the Paramount studio, and the song was used for the 1938 movie Romance in the Dark. Would you do the nearness review?
Rebecca Kilgore
Of course.
Dave Frishberg
Sure.
It's not the pale moon that excites me, that thrills and delights me. Oh, no, it's just the nearness of you. It isn't your sweet conversation that brings this sensation. Oh, no, it's just the next nearness of you. When you're in my arms and I feel you so close to me. All my wildest dreams come true. I need no soft light to enchant me. If you only grant me the right to hold you ever so tight.
Bob Weir
And.
Dave Frishberg
To feel in the night the nearness of you.
Terry Gross
That was lovely.
Dave Davies
Singer Rebecca Kilgore with pianist Dave frishberg recorded in 1999. Rebecca died last week at the age of 76. We send our condolences to her family, her friends and her fans.
Dave Frishberg
Dream when you're feeling blue dream, that's the thing to do. Just, just watch those smoke rings rise in the air. You'll find your share of happiness there. So dream when the day is through. Dream and they might come true. Things never are as bad as they seem. So dream, dream, dream.
Dave Davies
On Monday's show, we hear from Heather McGee. Her book the Sum of Us, asks why so many Americans believe that progress for one group means loss for another. On Martin Luther King Jr. Day, a conversation about the cost of that belief and who she says is really paying. I hope you can join us. FRESH air's executive producers are Danny Miller and Sam Brigger. Our senior producer today is Roberta Shorok. Our technical director and engineer is Audrey Bentham with additional engineering support from Joyce Lieberman, Julian Hertzfeld and Diana Martinez. Our interviews and reviews are produced and edited by Phyllis Myers, Anne Marie Baldonado, Lauren Krenzel, Teresa Madden, Monique Nazareth, Thea Chaloner, Susan Yakundi, Anna Bauman and Nico Gonzalez Wisler. Our digital media producer is Molly CV Nesper. For Terry Gross and Tonya Moseley, I'm Dave Davies.
Dave Frishberg
Dream when you're feeling blue.
Rebecca Kilgore
Dream.
Dave Frishberg
That's the thing to do. Just watch the smoke rings rise in the air. You'll find your share of happiness.
Air Date: January 16, 2026
Host: Dave Davies
Feature Interviewer: Sam Brigger
Special Focus: Also includes tribute and archived performances for singer Rebecca Kilgore
This episode of Fresh Air is dedicated to commemorating Bob Weir, guitarist, singer, and founding member of the Grateful Dead, who passed away at age 78. The episode revisits Weir’s life and musical impact through a 2016 interview with Sam Brigger, highlighting his evolution as a songwriter, influences from his cowboy years, the band’s legacy, and personal stories about his family and friendship with Jerry Garcia. The episode then segues into a remembrance for jazz vocalist Rebecca Kilgore (1949–2026), featuring performances from the archive with pianist Dave Frishberg.
Dave Davies opens by recounting Bob Weir’s significance as a pivotal member of the Grateful Dead, noting Weir’s creative rhythm guitar style:
“Weir strummed his rhythm chords lightly, nimbly and malleably, charting and shaping the ever-shifting undercurrents of the Dead’s songs and jams.”
(00:34)
Weir was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (1994), received a Lifetime Achievement Grammy (2007), and was named a Kennedy Center honoree (2024).
The show revisits Weir’s solo work, especially his 2016 album Blue Mountain, co-written with Josh Ritter and inspired by his cowboy experiences as a teen.
Interview with Sam Brigger (2016):
Weir shares how a summer spent in Wyoming at age 15 shaped his music:
“My folks were sort of in the horsey community... the old cowpokes… taught me how to ride… by the time I was 9 or 10, I had a pretty good grasp of the basics.”
(03:58)
His affinity for cowboy and country music stems from these years:
“I got steeped in that tradition a little bit… I was the kid with the guitar, so I was their accompaniment. It’s not so much the songs that stuck with me as the delivery… particularly the storytelling aspect.”
(05:06)
“Every artist of any stripe is first and foremost a storyteller… I see songs as little movies, you know, short movies… let the characters as fully as possible express themselves.”
(06:55)
“I can’t deny that I had a fair bit of, you know, either personal experience with drugs, alcohol or whatever, or close friends of mine had intense experiences with them. I guess I know what I’m talking about to some degree when I’m helping a character flesh himself out in that regard.”
(08:29)
"I was ready for anything… Haight-Ashbury was popping… in ’66, [it] was a youth ghetto… a joyful place. ’67, the media made it into something we didn’t recognize… everything that had rattled loose in the rest of the country ended up in Haight-Ashbury. Things went kind of sideways there by then.”
(11:54–12:27)
Meeting His Birth Parents at 50:
“I always go outdoors to clip my fingernails… he did too. We walked, we carried ourselves the same way. He was a gentleman… and I think of myself as such as well. He had a quality of leadership… and I’ve found that more or less come my way as well.”
(12:58)
Tracking Down His Birth Father:
“I got a private eye; within about 10 minutes, he turned out the information… I called him … ‘My name is Robert Weir, and I live in Mill Valley… there’s a strong, strong likelihood that you have one more [child] than you know.’... We met the next day for lunch… we got real tight, real fast.”
(14:13–18:40)
Touching Story of His Half-Brother’s Guitar:
“He was a flashy but good telecaster player… his brothers gave me his guitar… I played it on stage for a long time.”
(18:40)
(Note: The guitar was later stolen.)
“It was a while before I decided I was going to go ahead and do it… I just waited until the time was right… It’s not an emotional sort of deal… one by one, the songs came. They demanded that, okay, it’s time. I gotta breathe again and you can help me do this.”
(19:57)
Transition to a tribute for jazz vocalist Rebecca Kilgore, featuring archive interviews and performances with Dave Frishberg.
“I was a closet singer before that, so I had lots of practice in my own living room.”
(26:46)
“I wish I could just learn a song immediately, but I have to painstakingly play the melody… a tedious procedure.”
(27:22)
“It’s been the gig of my life. It’s been the greatest gig.”
(29:44)
| Timestamp | Segment Description | |-----------|-----------------------------------------------------| | 00:34 | Intro to Bob Weir’s life and Grateful Dead legacy | | 02:29 | “Only a River” and Weir’s cowboy roots | | 06:22 | On narrative songwriting and contrasts in the Dead | | 08:29 | Discussing drugs/addiction and “Kai Basi” | | 11:54 | Weir reflects on youth, Haight-Ashbury, counterculture | | 12:58 | Meeting birth parents and discovering family ties | | 18:40 | Familial story of half-brother’s guitar | | 19:57 | Singing Garcia’s songs; the grieving process | | 25:08 | Rebecca Kilgore “Happy as the Day Is Long” | | 33:37 | “I Can’t Give You Anything but Love” performance | | 37:30 | “The Way You Look Tonight” performance | | 41:05 | “Two Sleepy People” performance | | 44:13 | “The Nearness of You” performance |
“I see songs as little movies, you know, short movies... I try to let the characters... as fully as possible express themselves and let the story develop.”
— Bob Weir, (06:55)
"I always go outdoors to clip my fingernails and toenails, and he did too. There are little mannerisms... We walked, we carried ourselves the same way."
— Bob Weir on meeting his biological father, (12:58)
“All the songs came. And one by one, they just sort of. They demanded that, okay, it’s time. I gotta breathe again and you can help me do this.”
— Bob Weir on singing Garcia’s songs, (19:57)
“It’s been the gig of my life. It’s been the greatest gig. And I have, I think, the most sympathetic accompanist I could imagine.”
— Rebecca Kilgore on performing with Dave Frishberg, (29:44)
“I always describe Becky as one of my favorite living singers, and I feel so lucky to have gotten the chance to work with her and to showcase her singing on our show.”
— Terry Gross on Rebecca Kilgore, (24:50)
This Fresh Air episode weaves together a thoughtful remembrance of Bob Weir, his musical legacy, authentic storytelling, and deeply personal moments from his life and career. The interlude honoring Rebecca Kilgore, complete with classic performances and behind-the-scenes anecdotes, rounds out the program with warmth and nostalgia. For listeners new to the Grateful Dead, Weir, or Kilgore, the episode provides intimate context, historic perspective, and a moving celebration of artistic legacies.