Whether you realize it or not, if you’ve listened to music any of that last 40 or so years, odds are Don Was has had an impact on it. You should recognize the name. If not, you will definitely recognize the work. Was is “the” go to guy in the music industry. Musician, producer, composer, collaborator. Albums, movie soundtracks, television shows, and more. If it involves music, it has involved Was for decades. if that’s not be enough, Was has been the president of Blue Note records, the Rolls-Royce of jazz record labels since 2012.
Was’s tidal wave of success started in the late 80’s when he produced the B-52s colossal hit Love Shack. Not a bad start. He immediately followed that with his first of six Grammys producing Bonnie Raitt’s 1989 album, Nick of Time. To avoid musically typecasting himself, Was decided to mix things up the next year. So, he worked with Iggy Pop, Paula Abdul, Bob Dylan, Neil Diamond, and Bob Seger. In one year! And only his second as a producer!
Over the years, the tidal wave has expanded to the Rolling Stones, Willie Nelson, John Mayer, Elton John, Mavis Staples, Ringo Starr, Hootie and the Blowfish, Herbie Hancock, Cyndi Lauper and on and on. It will literally take you minutes to scroll through the hundreds of credits filling Was’s unrivaled resume.
Somehow finding a world with more than 24 hours in a day, on stage, Was is a founding member of the 80’s band Was (Not Was). His current band Don Was and the Pan-Detroit Ensemble has been touring to support their album Groove In The Face Of Adversity.
With a musical range as wide as the Sahara Desert, it’s Was’s connection and reconnection with the Grateful Dead’s Bob Weir, who passed in January 2026 that has infinitely expanded has musical limits and desires. The two first met through bassist Rob Wasserman in the early 90’s. Both are featured on Wasserman’s 1994 album Trios. Twenty years later, Was would introduce his good friend and burgeoning Deadhead John Mayer to Weir and Dead drummer Mickey Hart in his Blue Note office. A world altering introduction that was the creation of Dead and Company.
Was would fully immerse himself in the Dead world in 2018 when Wasserman (who passed in 2016) came to Weir in a dream directing him to start a band with Was and drummer Jay Lane. That dream became a reality with the Wolf Bros.. The band’s name given by Wasserman to Weir in that same dream.
With a comfy front row seat on the bus the last decade, Was is currently celebrating the 50th anniversary of the Dead’s album Blues for Allah performing it nightly on tour. Ahead of the band’s performance at the Germantown Performing Arts Center, Was sat down with Slide&Banjo’s Marty Halpern to discuss life as a Deadhead. As well as also being one of the most important people in the music industry (although he’d never admit it).
Was begins by sharing how an idea for a festival setlist turned into a national tour. “We were playing the Golden Road festival in Buford, GA. A friend said, ‘It’s the 50th anniversary of Blues for Allah. Do you guys want to play it?’ That’s a good challenge. One of the things I learned early on working with the Wolf Bros., is you can’t try to do karaoke versions of these things. Certainly, as a bass player. Phil Lesh (Grateful Dead bassist) left nothing to hang your hat on. There are no set bass parts. You can play them radically differently every time. If you’re just going to try and imitate Phil, it loses everything. No one can imitate Phil. He was one of a kind. Brilliant, genius, musician.”
Blues for Allah isn’t a traditional album. With jazz blowout King Solomon’s Marbles and the unlimited exploration in the title track, the album was way ahead of its 1975 release date. To understand how to play the album with his crew, Was relied on the advice of his late bandmate Weir. “Bobby said, the way around this is you just have to be yourself. That applies to our band playing Blues for Allah. All these songs, we had to find a way that would be soulful every night and not a heartless replication of what the Dead did. It was a cool challenge, and we really enjoy playing the songs. When we were in front of audiences that weren’t Deadheads, they couldn’t tell which songs were ours and were from Blues for Allah. It felt consistent for what we do.”
“I thought I was familiar with the album, but I realized I wasn’t.” Was recalls. “I thought it was improvisational and structureless. It’s not so at all. There’s a very strict structure for all of these things. Even if you don’t hear it. King Solomon’s Marbles is a great example. It took a lot of time to figure out what was really happening there. It’s built on a solid foundation that’s as specific as The Music Never Stopped. The doorway into Solomon came with the opening line. It’s like the song Inner City Blues by Marvin Gaye. What if we played the whole song like it was Inner City Blues? With that feel. But stuck to the structure and everything. We tried it and it fit like a glove. We took some liberties with that one. Detroit-icized it a bit.”
“Other songs like Help on the Way, Slipknot, and Franklin’s Tower are more straightforward.” Was adds. “With Crazy Fingers, we went after something more like I’ve Got Dreams to Remember by Otis Redding and Memphis-ized it. I was worried it would be viewed as sacrilegious, but that was not the case. People loved it.”
Constantly working with the Mt. Rushmore of musicians, Was offers hit thoughts on what makes the music of the Grateful Dead so universally appealing. “The most important and underrated aspect of the songs are the lyrics. From playing with Bobby all the years, I see the audience’s faces. I see them reacting to certain lines. Songwriters Robert Hunter’s poetry, and John Perry Barlow’s poetry is impressionistic enough that everyone has room to hang their own inner emotional lives on some aspect of those songs. Everyone has a unique emotional life. That’s what great poetry does. It doesn’t get so specific, it’s exclusionary. It welcomes you and allows you to become a co-writer. Assign your own deep meaning to these lyrics. I see people responding to lyrics more than riffs and solos. That’s why you get so many licenses with it. No one messes with the lyrics. No matter how you’re reinterpreting the songs. You’re not going to change the lyrics.”
While Was ultimately cracked the code to translating the Dead’s repertoire, it didn’t come without its challenges. “The songs are beautifully written. They roll off your fingers like butter. They’re fun to play. So many avenues to explore. Infinite avenues within these songs. You never get bored playing them. When I first had to learn these songs. I actually got mad trying to learn Saint of Circumstance. Why is this so fucking complicated? What is the fucking point? I was pissed off about it until I learned the song. Once you learn the song and stop thinking about the chords and counting. Just playing the music as it’s written. It just rolls off your fingers. You don’t have to think about it again. They’re beautiful songs to play and explore.”
While Weir is no longer by his side on stage, Was happily carries on the approach and legacy left by his friend. “I learned how to let go and let the music flow out of you. Let it flow into you. How to pick up the energy from the audience and turn it into the next note you’re going to choose to play. To play in the moment without worry or regret about what’s coming next. If I hadn’t played all those shows with Bobby, I don’t think I’d be able to do any of the stuff I’m doing now. Bobby’s fingerprints are all over the Pan-Ensemble even if you don’t hear it stylistically. The state of mind we’re after is exactly what I learned from Bob.”
Coming up in part two, our deep dive into Was’s unmatched musical career continues. Was shares the impossible to imagine details of working for decades with music’s elite. He also shares the incredible behind the scenes stories of the creation of Dead and Company, The Wolf Bros., and its expanded offshoot Bob Weir and the Wolfpack. Stay tuned.
