Hey now, gather ‘round and let me tell you ‘bout this cat named Warren Zevon. Strange grin, sharper tongue, and a knack for weaving stories that’ll tie your heart in a knot and set your mind running. He walked the alleys of rock ’n’ roll like he owned the place, and maybe he did, in his own sly way.

Your path crossed with the Grateful Dead’s on brilliant nights—Santa Barbara in ’78, Boulder’s Folsom Field in ’80, where you opened the gateway for those long, flowing jams that followed, adding your own brand of wild wonder. Jerry and the Dead, ever the enthusiasts of your quick wit, breathed new life into “Werewolves of London,” that rambunctious crowd-pleaser that we especially cherished on that unforgettable evening at Red Rocks on July 8, 1978. In those moments, two musical worlds merged into one grand parade of delight, each side celebrating the other’s freedom and fearlessness.

Now, Warren’s got a whole heap of songs that shine bright. Let’s dig into fifteen that’ll twist your ear:

1. “Werewolves of London”
   With its prowling piano and sly grin, it’s a midnight carnival of winks and growls. Put it on, and you can almost see those creatures dancing down the London streets.

2. “Excitable Boy”
   A perky melody hiding a grin that borders on unhinged. Warren had a way of taking the dark and setting it to a catchy beat, making you hum along to something you never saw comin’.

3. “Desperados Under the Eaves”
   Los Angeles in all its dusty glamour, neon dreams and cracked concrete. This one swells with strings like a desert wind that won’t quit. Pulls you right into that hotel bar for one last shot of wonder.

4. “Lawyers, Guns and Money”
   A rebellious stomp across borders and big trouble, fueled by guitars that talk and a voice that demands an escape route. It’s a rallying cry for anyone with an outlaw heart.

5. “Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner”
   Spooky as a half-forgotten bedtime story. The wandering spirit of a mercenary, drifting through time and space, and Warren gives him life like a midnight poet calling ghosts from the grave.

6. “Poor Poor Pitiful Me”
   A wink at heartbreak that’s so catchy, it almost feels like a joyous lament. Linda Ronstadt took it for a ride, but Warren’s own version is a sly grin hidden under a wide-brimmed hat.

7. “Carmelita”
   A lonely guitar strum, tears at dawn, and the sad shuffle of a streetwise soul. You can feel the neon buzz and smell the stale coffee as he searches for a taste of mercy.

8. “Mohammed’s Radio”
   It’s a call to the outsiders, the restless folks who can’t sleep at night. Warren’s voice climbs and falls, inviting us to tune into that big station in the sky, broadcasting hope.

9. “Accidentally Like a Martyr”
   A gentle heartbreak, all guitar and longing. Sometimes life feels like one long stumble, and this tune catches you in that vulnerable spot where regret meets acceptance.

10. “The French Inhaler”
    Hollywood illusions and broken romance, swirling like cigarette smoke in a crowded bar. It’s dreamy, it’s biting, it’s the sound of morning-after honesty.

11. “Play It All Night Long”
    A crunchy guitar leads the charge, poking fun at Southern rock themes while dancing through the mud. The grin’s still there, but it’s wearing boots and stomping out the beat.

12. “Boom Boom Mancini”
    A boxing ring anthem, bristling with the fury of gloves hitting flesh. You can feel the sting of sweat and the crowd’s roar, all in a rebellious Zevon groove.

13. “Jeannie Needs a Shooter”
    Penned with Bruce Springsteen, it’s got that highway hum, and Warren’s unmistakable spirit of danger and desire. A jolt of romance cut with a little gunpowder.

14. “Reconsider Me”
    A plainspoken plea for one more chance. Warren’s voice pleads in that smoky register, and you can almost see him standing at the door, hat in hand, waiting to see if it’ll open.

15. “Keep Me in Your Heart”
    A quiet goodbye, whispered as if he’s in the room with you. Sweet, steady, and an offering to carry forward. A closing statement that still glows with simple sincerity.

Yes, Warren, we hold you close in our hearts. You crisscrossed genres, forging bonds with Jackson Browne, Linda Ronstadt, and others who recognized your sharp pen and rebel spirit. You wrestled with the big themes—love, death, betrayal—and shaped them into songs that lived outside the ordinary. Your style was a dance of humor and heartbreak, forever reminding us that laughter and despair can share the same haunted road.

So here’s to Warren Zevon, the raspy bard who made us laugh, shiver, and sing at the same time. When you drop the needle on one of his records, lean in close—you’ll catch a whispered secret and a wicked grin all at once. Today’s his birthday, and we at Grateful Web tip our hats and let the notes ring out. May the werewolves keep howlin’ in that London moonlight, and may his songs ride the wind for all the nights yet to come.