But that first half, it was just, it just wasn't, we couldn't,

well, much like the Ghana game, couldn't break them down.

No, and I think the worrying thing about the Panama game more so is that Panama didn't sit deep.

They really didn't.

I mean, they were doing a high press throughout the game and you just felt like, OK, then there's going to be some gaps in behind.

And it just didn't, it just still didn't quite materialise.

And I think the most worrying thing I've seen is in that first half, I think it was within the first 10 minutes, Marcus Rashford made a great run and it caught to Thomas Tuchel on the side and he was waving his arms around, clapping.

And Panama last night had opportunities to attack

[upbeat music]Gary Lambert.

He, he went for that kind of harder edge tone because he was sort of the soul guitar voice in some of those bands, you know, and, uh, espe- especially Wolf Bros, you know? [clears throat] Um, I mean, I, I was a huge fan of the Bobby incredibly clean jazz guitar tone of the, of the, the '73, '74 period with that ES-335, but I totally appreciated that he was, he wasn't willing to get stuck in that.

So Bobby had this inner avant-gardist [laughs] which he could deploy in, in the context of these rock bands, and that, that always really kind of knocked me out.

In the early days of Wolf Bros, Don Was and I used to talk a lot about Bobby's playing, which Don found amazing, and said, "He's really, he, he's like someone like Marc Ribot.

You know? He play, play, play, play these, like, these unexpected lines." [rock music]

That was Marc Ribot's 1992 version of Caravan from Requiem for What's His Name.

And then one day at a Wolf Bros soundcheck at The Beacon, great guitarist Jimmy Vivino showed up, you know, from the Conan O'Brien Band and the Midnight Ramble and all of that, you know, just, just brilliant, brilliant guitarist.

And, uh, and he, uh, he was standing in the wings listening to Bobby play, and he said, "Man, you know, Bobby's a ma- I never knew this.

Please welcome back, from Tales from the Golden Road, Gary Lambert.

My personal relationship with Bobby was the most continuous with anyone in the Grateful Dead, and it was easy early on, if I was hanging out at the stage door at Fillmore East and just chatting up the band, they weren't just hopping into someone's VW bus and going to the Albert Hotel after the show, you know? [laughs] They were, they were par- they had more of an entourage.

So, if people sort of looked at me ex- askance, like, you know, "Who's that guy?" Bobby was the guy to say, "He's okay." He was so welcoming.

He made me feel comfortable there, in a scene that is alwa- not always intended to make you comfortable.

The most guilelessly nice person you could imagine, especially in a situation like that, where lots of people wanted a piece of him, lots of people wanted his time, uh, and he was incredibly accommodating and, and had this lovely equanimity about him.

But as a musician, Weir had achieved clarity.

I guess he was like 27, 26 maybe, around then.

And he had this beautifully articulated sense of who he was and what his job was.