Total album sales: 2 million + Peak chart position: 30

"Who says discipline is a bad thing? No one who's heard American Beauty, the Dead's greatest studio achievement. Showcasing 10 concise, country-rooted gems that sound equally good whether you're hanging on the front porch in the afternoon or nursing a bottle after hours, this one could win over many an anti-Jerry. Bewildered by loss both personal and social--the hippie dream was quickly crashing by Beauty's 1970 release date--the band put its querulousness ("Box of Rain") and wry humor ("Truckin'") into the service of a masterwork. The most impressive cut of all may be "Ripple," Garcia's spiritual credo."

(Rickey Wright)

A companion piece to the luminous Workingman's Dead, American Beauty is an even stronger document of the Grateful Dead's return to their musical roots. Sporting a more full-bodied and intricate sound than its predecessor thanks to the addition of subtle electric textures, the record is also more representative of the group as a collective unit, allowing for stunning contributions from Phil Lesh (the poignant opener "Box of Rain") and Bob Weir ("Sugar Magnolia"); at the top of his game as well is Jerry Garcia, who delivers the superb "Friend of the Devil," "Candyman," and "Ripple." Climaxing with the perennial "Truckin'," American Beauty remains the Dead's studio masterpiece -- never again would they be so musically focused or so emotionally direct.

(by Jason Ankeny, All Music Guide)

Indeed. What an appropriate title for a record that takes some of the eldest, bearded, most respectable American musical styles, strips them bare of everything that witty rock musicians have invented in the past two or three years and presents in their 'naked beauty'. On first listen, I hated this album. 'I can't believe it!' I was saying to myself. 'They call it a classic? This dead-ly bore with not a single original or memorable melody in sight?' But of course, this turned out to be one of those cunning records that are not melody-oriented at all, or at least, not hook-oriented...
Like Workingman's Dead, this record presents the Grateful Dead as a folk/country band, with no traces of a spaced-out jam anywhere in sight; unlike Workingman's Dead, though, the album is somewhat more diverse and the songs are somewhat more edgy, which is why most fans of the two records prefer the second one over the first one. There's just about, like, totally nothing revolutionary or revelatory about this album - all of this stuff was already done by the Byrds (whose output many of the numbers painfully recall, especially the more 'harmonized' ones) and other, less significant folk-rock bands before. However, once you take a somewhat deeper insight (and take a couple more listens, which also won't hurt), you'll discover that this style has little in common with the Byrds, harmonies excepted. In fact, the 'harmonized' numbers are eventually the worst on record - like the dreadful 'Attics Of My Life', a super-slow, lethargic lullaby that'll put a zombie back in the ground in a second's time. Of course, it's probably a fan favourite, but I've already offended so many fans' favourites on this site that one more will have little effect on the death sentence already carried out... But hey, my commentators tend to agree with me on that one, so at least I don't feel alone and deserted.
The biggest difference is, of course, that the Dead use their typical guitar sound that bears no resemblance to McGuinn's patented '12-string jangle'. Jerry Garcia and Bob Weir use their instruments with mastership - and, in this case, quite economically. Tasteful guitar licks abound - like the riff that holds together the pretty, fast-paced folkish ditty 'Sugar Magnolia', or the R'n'B elements on 'Truckin'. The production is also much more 'thin' than the Byrds' one, and the material is thus somewhat more 'accessible' - sometimes it sounds like the band are just having a groovy time in your living-room. And, of course, harmonies or no harmonies, the boys always do a great singing job each on his own (I'm just not a fan of singing in unison!).
Now the material here is really uneven, which is still my main complaint. Yet this is also an advantage - see, while the style of this record was never invented by the members of the Dead themselves, the actual melodies on here are hardly ripped-off: I hear plenty of ideas that I'd never heard before. I mean, I can often accuse Dylan of stealing folk melodies and passing them for his own, but I really couldn't say the same about the Dead. These songs, in contrast to the general marking 'traditional, arranged by so-and-so', should all be tagged: 'traditionally arranged, by the Grateful Dead' (now do you see the improtance of commas?).
So yeah, there are some hit and miss moments on the album, but that's gotta be forgiven. Like I said, 'Attics Of My Life' is a horrendous song, and I'll probably never change my opinion about that one. 'I-i-i-i-i-n the a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ttics o-o-o-o-o-f my-y-y-y-y-y li-i-i-i-i-i-ife...', boy, I feel this coma coming on again. Let's change subject and speak of Garcia's 'Friend Of The Devil', the song I like the most on here because it's probably your best bet for a heart-wrenching pessimistic ballad on the album, you know, of the type 'got-that-hound-on-my-trail-gotta-run-afore-it's-too-late' kinda stuff. It's got some great countryish guitar, too, but my main compliments are directed at the singing and lyrics. Out of the sad, whiny numbers there's also the opening 'Box Of Rain', a great multi-guitar song where, for once, the harmonies sound really really good. The message is a little unclear, although, but I don't mind.
Out of the fast numbers you're probably sure to know 'Truckin', with its great instrumentation and telling lyrics about the band's touring schedule and their, well, disappointment in True Love (a subject common in 1970, but to hear lines like 'Most of the cats you meet on the street speak of True Love/Most of the time they're sitting and crying at home' in a Grateful Dead is a little like hearing Richard Nixon advising American kids to drop out). 'What a long strange trip it's been' indeed. It also strikes you as pretty upbeat and even 'raving' as compared to the quiet atmosphere of the album - and the vocal melody style is definitely ripped-off of Chuck Berry's numbers such as 'No Particular Place To Go', with just a wee bit of speeding up. But I guess that's a conscious rip-off: after all, it was only natural for the band to end this 'roots tribute' with a Fifties' boogie sendup.
But if that's all you know from this record, don't you miss the already mentioned 'Sugar Magnolia' with that cool guitar riff, nor 'Operator', a sly slide-driven number with particularly 'attractive' (yeah, right) vocals by Pigpen, the harmonica player. Finally, I've even overcome myself to appreciate 'Candyman', a number that recalls Bob Dylan circa 1962: a lengthy, drooning folk number that nevertheless sounds inviting and very disposing - where 'Attics Of My Life' just invites you to lean on your pillow, 'Candyman' really invites you to lightly tap your foot and rock to and fro in harmony with the melody.
So, as you see, apart from the wretched 'Attics' and a couple of other minor misfires, I pretty much manage to dig this record. I almost find this strange, because I never really usually dig 'hardcore Americano' records (hell, I even expressed my displeasure towards Willy And The Poorboys), and yet, this album is likable for me, even if I can't name any original ideas on here. I guess I ought to put the blame on the band's high-heeled professionalism and, well, taste: sure, I know that accusing the Dead of having taste is pretty much an oxymoron, but what can one do if one is put in front of inescapable facts? Go buy this record and put it next to the American flag if you keep one in your house. Well, I don't suppose it's called American Beauty for nothing - here's a title that matches an album's content as perfectly as it ever gets.

(by George Starostin, Only Solitaire)