Muriel Grossmann: Plays The Music of McCoy Tyner and Grateful Dead

To avoid the possibility of provoking outrage from any quarter, we sidestep, at least in theory, the perennial question of whether the Grateful Dead belong under the jazz umbrella. The devotion inspired by the band founded in the 1960s by Jerry Garcia, Bob Weir and company is legendary. 'Dead Heads' formed a small nation unto themselves, following the band from city to city, taping live performances and subsisting on grilled cheese sandwiches along the way. Imagine Dean Benedetti obsessively trailing Charlie Parker in the 1940s to document his solos, then multiply that level of commitment by tens of thousands, and we begin to grasp the scale of Dead Head culture.

That said, the boundary between the Dead and jazz has never been impermeable. Jazz musicians, including Branford Marsalis, Ornette Coleman and David Murray, have shared stages or repertoires with the band's music. Murray's Dark Star (The Music of the Grateful Dead) (Astor Place, 1996) was an early and serious engagement, followed later by saxophonist David McMurray's Blue Note Records releases Grateful Deadication (2021) and Grateful Deadication 2 (2023).

Enter saxophonist Muriel Grossmann and her working quartet with guitarist Radomir Milojkovic, Hammond B3 organist Abel Boquera and drummer Uros Stamenkovic. A prolific ensemble with roughly a half dozen releases to their name, the group follows up Breakthrough (Dreamlandrecords/RR Gems, 2025) with an album that draws an explicit line between the Grateful Dead and McCoy Tyner. Grossmann's premise rests on Weir's well-documented admiration for the classic John Coltrane Quartet, particularly Tyner's harmonic and rhythmic imprint. It is not an association commonly made by either Dead Heads or jazz purists, but Grossmann commits to the idea with conviction.

The project is split across two LPs, one devoted to Tyner, the other to the Grateful Dead, while the two-CD edition doubles the material, offering alternate takes of each selection. Tyner's "Walk Spirit, Talk Spirit," drawn from his Montreux performance originally released on Enlightenment (Milestone, 1973), opens the set and aligns naturally with Grossmann's long-standing immersion in spiritual jazz. The quartet treats the piece as a launching pad for extended improvisation, an approach that also suits "Contemplation" from The Real McCoy (Blue Note, 1967), where a blues-inflected ballad gradually intensifies into a deeply-meditative groove.

The shift to the Grateful Dead's repertoire brings a subtle, but noticeable change in feel. "The Music Never Stopped" leans into a funkier, more rock-oriented pulse, propelled by Stamenkovic's drumming. On "The Other One," Grossmann switches from tenor to soprano saxophone, while Milojkovic's guitar introduces a bluesy edge that bridges the two worlds without forcing a fusion.

Rather than resolving the long-running debate over the Dead's place in jazz, Grossmann's album reframes the question entirely. This is not an argument, but an exploration, one that treats both repertoires as open systems, ripe for improvisation and reinterpretation. Whether or not listeners accept the premise, the quartet's commitment and musical coherence make a persuasive case that these worlds have more in common than their most ardent defenders might care to admit.