Moby Grape emerged as one of San Francisco’s standout 1960s acts, distinguished by exceptional range. Although frequently associated with psychedelia, the ensemble specialized in weaving together strands of folk, blues, country, and vintage rock and roll, then threading them through Summer of Love currents and dense, three-guitar textures. Those strands converged most fully on the band’s self-titled 1967 debut. Later releases contained more strong material than most listeners recognize, yet internal struggles and mismanagement cut the original run short by decade’s end.
Matthew Katz, early manager of the Jefferson Airplane, assembled Moby Grape around Skip Spence. A vivid Canadian whose first instrument was guitar, Spence had drummed in the Airplane’s initial lineup at Marty Balin’s urging; after contributing songs to that group’s first album he departed and returned to guitar and writing for the Grape. Guitarist Jerry Miller and drummer Don Stevenson arrived from the Northwest bar band the Frantics, while Peter Lewis brought experience from Southern California surf outfits such as the Cornells and bassist Bob Mosley had performed with other groups in the same region.
Although the members barely knew one another at first—an arrangement that later fueled difficulties—they coalesced rapidly, each writing a roughly equal share of the material on the 1967 debut. That record remains their definitive statement, with its folk- and country-leaning tracks outperforming the boogies; standouts include “Omaha,” “Sittin’ by the Window,” “Changes,” and “Lazy Me.” Columbia undermined the group’s standing through excessive promotion, issuing five singles from the album at once.
The follow-up, the double album Wow, proved one of the decade’s more disheartening efforts given the expectations created by the first record. Its studio disc showed markedly uneven songwriting, and the players no longer integrated their instrumental and vocal strengths as effectively; the bonus disc amounted to little more than inferior jams. While recording in New York in 1968, Spence left after a notorious episode in which he entered the studio brandishing a fire axe, apparently intent on using it against Stevenson. Confined to Bellevue Hospital, he resurfaced later that year to cut a striking acid-folk solo album, yet this remained his sole significant post-Grape work; he contended with mental illness until his death in 1999.
Further damage came when Mosley, though part of a band rooted in the Haight-Ashbury scene, enlisted in the Marine Corps at the start of 1969. The remaining members persisted, issuing two more albums that year; the strongest tracks, especially on the earlier of the pair, Moby Grape ’69, demonstrated they could still deliver, albeit in a quieter, more country-oriented mode. The group dissolved at the close of the decade, though varying lineups of originals reconvened occasionally for little-heard records over the ensuing twenty years. Their difficulties were compounded by Matthew Katz, who retained ownership of the Moby Grape name and at times blocked the original members from performing under it.
