There is a road, no simple highway,
Between the dawn and the dark of night.
--“Ripple” by the Grateful Dead, quoted by George R.R. Martin in Dreamsongs
Behind The Song: The Grateful Dead, “Ripple” by Jim Beviglia
Yet in 1970, the Dead released a pair of studio albums within months of each other that seemed to both capture the unease of an entire generation unmoored from their ideals and act as a balm to soothe those disappointments. [...] In the studio, the band caressed the song with the gentleness of a lover. [...] The ensemble voices on “Ripple” provide comfort when the words evoke hardship.
Hunter delivers lyrics that evoke cosmic wisdom and serenity without ignoring the darkness on the fringes of even the most blessed lives. The song nods at different religions and philosophies, from the Christian overtones of the lines about cups both empty and filled, which recall the 23rd Psalm, to the Buddhist koan feel of the refrain. The chorus even breaks off from the relatively straightforward rhyme scheme of the verses to form a haiku, another example of East meeting West in the song.
The song opens up with Garcia opining on the power of music, or perhaps it’s better to say the lack thereof. Even if his words glowed and were majestically propelled through the air on a “harp unstrung,” he has no certainty that they’ll have any positive impact on the listener. Still, ineffectuality aside, he also concedes that the world is better for having music: “I don’t know, don’t really care/ Let there be songs to fill the air.”
In the second verse, things turn much more somber, as the narrator, after wishing good tidings and full cups on his audience courtesy of that magical fountain, warns of a “road, no simple highway/ Between the dawn and the dark of night.” On this path the traveler will enjoy no company: “That path is for your steps alone.”
With these unanswerable mysteries still lingering, the chorus interrupts and the mandolin played by David Grisman seems to suspend the song in mid-air so Garcia can deliver the hauntingly lovely imagery of the chorus: “Ripple in still water/ When there is no pebble tossed/ Nor wind to blow.” We can envisage those lines, their inherent contradictions no match for the music’s ability to put them across.
The final verse returns to again strike a somewhat ominous tone, but the last line offers some consolation. “If I knew the way, I would take you home,” Garcia sings. That the narrator would offer assistance if he could is all the succor he can give to his companion, and somehow it’s enough. In this hard world, it has to be.
And if you do have to go it alone, there’s always music to bring along as company [x]
“I'm going to go ahead and try, whatever the odds, and I hope you add your voice.” [x] [x]
