Jefferson Airplane founder, songwriter and guitarist-vocalist Paul Kantner died Jan. 28 in San Francisco of multiple organ failure, brought on by septic shock, at the age of 74. Grateful Dead co-founder Bob Weir pays tribute to his friend and fellow rhythm guitarist.
Paul was a friend of mine. Musically, we kind of grew up together. The Airplane was always a little bigger than we were; they were a step or two ahead of the Dead in terms of acceptance. But there was no rivalry; there was a sense of camaraderie more than anything.
He and I occupied the same chair in our orchestras; we were both rhythm guitarists. But early on, he played a lot of 12-string, and I didn’t do that, so we didn’t compete. We were on different paths looking at how we could provide that punch in a band. But I would listen to what he was up to. We never collaborated on a song, although I would love to have done that. On the numerous occasions when we would jam onstage, we would work together and off of each other so it wouldn’t be a big mess.
His guitar was the glue that held all that together. Paul’s work was the mud from which those two lotuses (lead guitarist Jorma Kaukonen and bassist Jack Casady) grew. He made it possible for Jorma and Jack to be more adventurous with their lines because they had a harmonic context, and a rhythmic context, to work off of.
As for his songs, like “Wooden Ships” and “Volunteers,” he and I were pretty much pathologically anti-authority. I never found it to be something I wanted to write about, but he did.
The fact that they got a record contract indicated that people were taking us — the San Francisco music fans — seriously, and that was pretty gratifying. We were all pretty good — at least we thought we were — so we figured, “If they’re going to get a good deal, then there’s probably one waiting for us, too.” And I’m sure the guys in Quicksilver Messenger Service and Big Brother & The Holding Company thought the same thing.
I have never been one to kick furniture when people check out. There’s nothing you can do about it. So any problems I have with his passing, I consider to be my own. So I just let him go and wish him the best. When somebody you’re part of, and of that kind of import, dies, it’s a good time to take stock of what he offered and see what you can make of it and what you can take from it.
–As told to Ben Fong-Torres