Jennifer Mydland takes it home to Lafayette California, in her debut performance



Jennifer Mydland
“Dear Mr Fantasy”


(~);}
Jennifer Mydland (debut performance)
4/1/17
Town Hall Theatre
Lafayette, CA.
Backed by Pat Nevins and Scott Guberman

I Don’t Have You
Valerie
Me And Bobby McGee
Dear Mr. Fantasy

Full Video:

All video and audio recording by Rupert Coles Photography ©2017
(~);}
Jennifer Mydland Facebook fan page:

https://www.facebook.com/Jennifer-Mydland-630023877205766/

Jennifer is the daughter of Grateful Dead keyboardist Brent Mydland. This was Jennifer’s debut performance, in her father’s home town of Lafayette, California.

Brent Mydland: Grateful Dead- I Will Take You Home -Shoreline AmphitheatreSeptember 30, 1989



Grateful Dead
– I Will Take You Home –
Shoreline Amphitheatre
September 30, 1989

RIP Brent – October 21, 1952 – July 26, 1990

Lyrics from The Annotated Grateful Dead 

“I Will Take You Home”
Words by John Perry Barlow; music by Brent Mydland
Copyright Ice Nine Publishing

Little girl lost
In a forest of dreams.
It’s a dark old wood
And it’s damp with dew.
Hoot owl hoots
For a moment it seems
Something big and cold
Just got ahold of you.
Just when everything gets scary,
Daddy’s come ’round for his darlin’ again.
Hold my hand with your little fingers.
Daddy’s loving arms gonna gather you in.
Ain’t no way the Bogeyman can get you,
You can close your eyes, the world is gonna let you,
Your daddy’s here and never will forget you,
I will take you home.
I will take you home.
Gonna carry you back home
In my arms.
I will take you home.
Long is the road
We must travel on down.
Short are the legs
That will struggle behind.
I wish I knew for sure
Just where we’re bound,
What we will be doin’
And what we’re gonna find.
Wherever we go, there will be birds to cheer you
Flower to color in the fields around.
Wherever we go, I’ll be right here near you
You can’t get lost when you’re always found.
Ain’t no fog that’s thick enough to hide you
Your daddy’s gonna be right here beside you
If your fears should start to get inside you
I will take you home.
I will take you home.
Gonna carry you back home
In my arms.
I will take you home.

Brent Mydland Tribute  “He’s Gone” Dead Head TV #18

Brent Mydland Tribute “He’s Gone” Dead Head TV #18



Brent Mydland Tribute
“He’s Gone”
Dead Head TV #18

Brent Mydland Tribute
Deadhead TV
1990 ~ (RePublished on Jul 26, 2016)

Brokedown House Production

Tape Provided by Ian
Production Consultant: Markiki
Capture & Edit by P.Togos
Author by Kevin Tobin

Various interviews with Dead family & fans after Brent’s passing

RIP Brent – October 21, 1952 – July 26, 1990
First Show with Grateful Dead – April 22, 1979
Last Show with Grateful Dead – July 23, 1990

We Can Run
John Perry Barlow and Brent Mydland

We don’t own this place, though we act as if we did,
It’s a loan from the children of our children’s kids.
The actual owners haven’t even been born yet.

Bur we never tend the garden and rarely we pay the rent,
Some of it is broken and the rest of it is bent
Put it all on plastic and I wonder where we’ll be when the bills hit.

We can run,
But we can’t hide from it.
Of all possible worlds,
We only got one:
We gotta ride on it.
Whatever we’ve done,
We’ll never get far from what we leave behind,
Baby, we can run, run, run, but we can’t hide.
Oh no, we can’t hide.

I’m dumpin’ my trash in your back yard
Makin’ certain you don’t notice really isn’t so hard
You’re so busy with your guns and all of your excuses to use them.

Well, it’s oil for the rich and babies for the poor,
We got everyone believin’ that more is more,
If a reckoning comes, maybe we will know what to do then.

All these complications seem to leave no choice,
I heard the tongues of billion speak with just one voice,
Saying, “just leave all the rest to me,
I need it worse than you, you see.”
And then I heard,
The sound of one child crying.

Today I went walking in the amber wind,
There’s a hole in the sky where the light pours in
I remembered the days when I wasn’t afraid of the sunshine.

But now it beats down on the asphalt land
Like a hammering blow from god’s left hand
What little still grows cringes in the shade like a bad vine.