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This Week In Grateful Dead History #35 (Week of 9/1)

A picture of a skull and roses with the words "This Week in Grateful Dead History"

For the week of September 1st-7th, Grateful Dead history is rich with significant moments. This week we’re remembering the late roadie and road manager Rex Jackson, who’s namesake was used when the band founded The Rex Foundation in 1983, which is their charitable organization. We also have Vince Welnick's debut show with the band on September 7, 1990. Musically, this week features a wide variety of styles from the band, along with Jerry Garcia's debut with his new Wolf guitar on September 7, 1973. Individual band members showcased their unique talents, with Pigpen's gritty vocals, Jerry Garcia's fluid guitar leads, and Phil Lesh's memorable declarations, such as "Citizens of Boise: Submit! For you are a conquered people!" as they took the stage for the first time in Boise, ID. Bobby delivered energetic performances, even while reportedly battling the flu, and the rhythm section of Bill Kreutzmann and Mickey Hart demonstrated telepathic precision, with Mickey using the Beam to create ethereal sounds. Keyboardists such as Brent Mydland, Keith Godchaux, and Tom Constanten added lush textures and adventurous playing, contributing to spontaneous moments like the first "Hey Jude" coda on September 7, 1985, rounding out a week of evolving musical expression. This week I’ve written 26 listening guides to cover all of this and more:


09/01/1969 Baton Rouge International Speedway, Prairieville, LA

09/01/1979 Holleder Memorial Stadium, Rochester, NY

09/02/1968 Betty Nelson's Organic Raspberry Farm, Sultan, WA

09/02/1978 Giants Stadium, East Rutherford, NJ

09/02/1979 Augusta Civic Center, Augusta, ME

09/02/1980 Community War Memorial Auditorium, Rochester, NY

09/02/1983 Boise State University Pavilion, Boise, ID

09/03/1967 Dance Hall, Rio Nido, CA

09/03/1972 Folsom Field, University of Colorado, Boulder, CO

09/03/1977 Raceway Park, Englishtown, NJ

09/03/1980 Springfield Civic Center, Springfield, MA

09/04/1980 Providence Civic Center, Providence, RI

09/04/1991 Richfield Coliseum, Richfield, OH

09/05/1982 Glen Helen Regional Park, Devore, CA

09/05/1985 Red Rocks Amphitheater, Morrison, CO

09/05/1991 Richfield Coliseum, Richfield, OH

09/06/1969 Family Dog at the Great Highway, San Francisco, CA

09/06/1980 State Fairgrounds, Lewiston, ME

09/06/1983 Red Rocks Amphitheater, Morrison, CO

09/06/1988 Capital Centre, Landover, MD

09/06/1991 Richfield Coliseum, Richfield, OH

09/07/1973 Nassau Veterans Memorial Coliseum, Uniondale, NY

09/07/1983 Red Rocks Amphitheater, Morrison, CO

09/07/1985 Red Rocks Amphitheater, Morrison, CO

09/07/1987 Providence Civic Center, Providence, RI

09/07/1990 Richfield Coliseum, Richfield, OH


If you like these weekly listening guides, and you want to support me, please consider buying a copy of my book On This Day In Grateful Dead History: A Daily Listening Journal. They're $50 and I offer free shipping if you subscribe to my mailing list, where you'll get these writeups delivered. No spam, I promise!


As I write up each week's listening guides, I mark up my copy of the book like this:


A picture of the book On This Day in Grateful Dead History with underlined song highlights and highlighted Jam Anthem songs

The underlined songs are the ones I'm calling out as highlights in the listening guide, and the songs highlighted in yellow are the ones that Howard Weiner has identified as Jam Anthem renditions. I also write notes in the space provided if I'm feeling inspired or if there are any updates such as newly released material. Ultimately you can use it however you want, but this was my original intent with the book.


So grab your copy of the book if you have it to follow along. Ok, let's jump into it. Here's the highlights for Issue 8, for the week of February 24th, 2025:


Interesting historical facts for this week in Grateful Dead history:

  • Remembering Rex Jackson (9/6/1976), former roadie and road manager. In 1983, the band formed The Rex Foundation, their charitable organization, and named it after Rex.

  • Vince Welnick's first show with the band (9/7/1990)

  • Jerry debuts his new Wolf guitar (9/7/1973)

  • First performance of It's All Over Now (9/6/1969), Let It Grow (9/7/1973), Hey Jude Reprise (9/7/1985)


By the way, if you're new here, this is my weekly listening guide that brings you the most interesting and significant facts from Grateful Dead History, along with reviews of the music for the week ahead. The idea is to give all you Heads a "Heads up" on the interesting and cool stuff the Grateful Dead were up to on this week in history. So hit the Subscribe button below to go to the top of my blog page where you can enter your email to get this delivered to your email every week!




September 1st

 

9/1/1969 Baton Rouge International Speedway, Prairieville, LA - 9/1/1969 at the Baton Rouge International Speedway was the Dead’s contribution to the New Orleans Pop Festival, and while it’s just a single set—about ninety minutes on tape—it packs a serious punch. There’s no filler here, just a lean, focused slice of late-’69 magic. Easy Wind is the first real standout for me. Pigpen’s vocals are gritty and commanding, and the band gives him plenty of room to stretch out. It’s got that swagger that only he could bring, and the groove is thick and bluesy.

 

But the heart of the set is the sequence: Dark Star > St. Stephen > The Eleven > Turn On Your Lovelight. Dark Star isn’t the longest version out there, but it’s rich with texture—patient, exploratory, and full of subtle shifts. The transition into St. Stephen is seamless, and the energy kicks up immediately. The Eleven is fiery and complex, with the band navigating the rhythmic twists like they’ve got telepathy. And then Lovelight brings it all home—Pigpen back in command, the crowd likely losing their minds, and the band riding the wave with full force. It’s a short set, but it feels complete. There’s a sense of purpose in the playing, and the transitions are tight. I always come back to this one when I want a concentrated dose of the Dead at their most fluid and fearless.

 

9/1/1979 Holleder Memorial Stadium, Rochester, NY - 9/1/1979 at Holleder Memorial Stadium is one of those shows that feels a little off-kilter—shorter than usual, and maybe a bit constrained by the brutal late-summer heat. There’s only this one known performance from that date, so it stands alone, quirks and all.

 

The first set kicks off with a real gem: Mississippi Half-Step (Jam Anthem version) > Franklin’s Tower. That Half-Step is full of drive and melodic lift, the kind of version that makes me lean in and ride the wave. The transition into Franklin’s is smooth and celebratory, and the jam feels expansive even though the set itself doesn’t stretch too far.


The second set opens with Scarlet Begonias > Fire on the Mountain, and both are Jam Anthem versions that absolutely earn the title. Scarlet has that shimmering, buoyant feel, and the band locks into a groove that’s both tight and exploratory. Fire is molten—Garcia’s leads are fluid and expressive, and the rhythm section is dialed in. What really stands out is how quickly they drop into Drums > Space right after Fire. It’s unusually early in the set, and it shifts the energy in a way that’s unexpected but kind of thrilling. This show might not have the depth or inventiveness of other ’79 outings, but those Jam Anthem moments are worth the price of admission. It’s a snapshot of the band navigating a tough day with flashes of brilliance.



September 2nd

 

9/2/1968 Betty Nelson's Organic Raspberry Farm, Sultan, WA –

Having spent time listening to the recordings, I came away feeling like I’d just witnessed the embryonic pulse of what would become the Dead’s signature Live/Dead sound. This isn’t just a historical curiosity—it’s a raw, electrifying document of a band in metamorphosis. Some of the jams here genuinely tap into that elusive magic that defined their late-'60s peak.

 

The first set kicks off with a brief spoken intro before diving into Dark Star, which, though relatively short at around ten minutes, is packed with nuance. The between-verse jams are especially intricate—Garcia’s playing feels like a leaf drifting through a stream, effortlessly guiding the band through shifting melodic terrain. That flows directly into Saint Stephen, which hits with an uptempo jolt. It’s raucous, jubilant, and slices through the air like a thunderbolt. The real turning point for me is The Eleven Jam. It’s long, wild, and absolutely bursting with manic energy. Kreutzmann and Hart are locked into a frenzied rhythm, while Weir and Lesh push the harmonic boundaries. Garcia stays right in the pocket, unleashing blistering runs that feel both chaotic and precise. The tape fades just before Death Don't Have No Mercy, but it’s clear that The Eleven was heading there. What’s especially thrilling is knowing this performance marks the first documented time the band played the full arc of Dark Star > Saint Stephen > The Eleven > Death Don't Have No Mercy—a sequence that would become a kind of sacred geometry in their live canon. It’s like watching musical evolution in real time.

 

Later in the set, That's It for the Other One appears, fading in during the “He Had to Die” section. Even in its abbreviated form, the jam soars. The rhythm section holds steady while Garcia and Lesh stretch the sonic fabric. But things truly explode with the performance of the Alligator > Caution > Feedback sequence, which is pure madness—in the best way. These are deeply spaced, maniacal jams that feel like they’re tearing through dimensions. The Caution finale is volcanic, with Pigpen and Weir screaming “All you need!” in unison while Lesh’s bass growls beneath them like some deranged specter. It’s unhinged, visceral, and unforgettable. For me, the crown jewels of this tape are The Eleven Jam, Cryptical, and the Alligator > Caution > Feedback stretch. This tape is essential listening for anyone who wants to understand how the band’s improvisational style took shape.

 

9/2/1978 Giants Stadium, East Rutherford, NJ – This was the last show in the USA before they headed off to the infamous Egypt shows. This show opens with Jack Straw, and right from the start, the band sounds locked in. Garcia’s strumming builds with intensity, culminating in a fiery climax that sets a confident tone. The first set stays mostly within familiar territory, but there are a few moments that stand out. Miracle, still in its early stages, feels tentative but intriguing. The repetition between Jerry and Donna doesn’t quite gel, but there’s something compelling in its rawness. The set closes strong with Lazy Lightnin' > Supplication, a pairing that’s tightly executed and rhythmically sharp.

 

For the second set, the stretch before Drums is where the performance really lifts off. Good Lovin' kicks things into high gear, with the band responding immediately to Weir’s lead. The jam builds steadily, and by the end, it erupts into a full-blown crescendo. There’s a playful energy throughout, and the transitions feel natural and fluid. Scarlet Begonias follows, and there’s no doubt why it’s a Jam Anthem version. It’s one of the most inspired readings I’ve heard from this era. The first instrumental break bursts with joy—Garcia’s phrasing is lyrical and light, then gradually intensifies. After a brief vocal detour, he takes full control, climbing through a series of peaks that feel both spontaneous and deliberate. His shift from furious strumming back into quiet, nimble runs is seamless, and the band follows him with confidence into Fire on the Mountain, also a Jam Anthem version. Estimated Prophet continues the Jam Anthem momentum. Despite a misstep where Weir reenters the lyrics too early, the jam itself is expansive and well-developed. The band recovers quickly, and the overall flow remains intact. Eyes of the World is a perfect follow-up—played with precision and warmth. The groove is steady, and Garcia’s solos are fluid and melodic, weaving effortlessly through the changes. Drums features some subtle textures, including what sounds like steel drum tones from Mickey, though they’re low in the mix. Billy’s rhythms are more prominent, driving the segment forward with clarity. Afterward, the band moves quickly into Sugar Mags, which feels rushed and lacks the depth of the earlier jams. There’s no real “Space” to speak of, and the encore is brief and perfunctory.

 

Musically, the heart of this show lives in the sequence from Good Lovin' through Eyes of the World. That stretch showcases the band’s ability to build, release, and reimagine energy in real time. It’s not a perfect show, but when it hits, it hits hard.

 

9/2/1979 Augusta Civic Center, Augusta, ME – From the opening notes to the final encore, the performance unfolded with a sense of purpose and momentum, but for me, the second set is where things truly took flight.

 

The first set was tight and well-played—Minglewood had a gritty edge, and Music Never Stopped was especially sharp, with the band locking into a groove that felt effortless.

 

The second set began almost like a continuation of the first. Terrapin Station was laid-back, and it took a while to settle in, but Brent finally started to cut through the mix, adding some welcome texture. What really grabbed me was the transition into Let It Grow—it was immediate and seamless. Bobby didn’t hesitate; he launched into the first verse right as Terrapin ended, and the band responded with a burst of energy that hadn’t quite surfaced earlier in the night. The jam that followed was expansive and alive, with each member pushing the momentum forward. It was one of those moments where everything clicked, and it confirmed for me that Let It Grow absolutely belongs in that second-set slot. After the main set wrapped, Jerry lingered onstage and drifted into a solo jam that got downright eerie—almost unsettling in its intensity. When he finally stepped away, Mickey and Billy took over with a thunderous Drums segment that felt like it could shake the rafters. The rest of the band returned for Space, which was haunting and atmospheric, eventually resolving into a gorgeous Stella Blue that stretched close to ten minutes. Garcia’s phrasing was delicate and emotional, and the band gave him plenty of room to breathe. Truckin' came next, and it was full of swagger. Midway through, they dipped into a brief Nobody’s Fault jam—just a taste, but enough to shift the mood—before launching into a fiery Around and Around. Somehow, Garcia still had fuel left for an encore, and he let it all out in an over-the-top version of U.S. Blues that felt like a final exclamation point.

 

9/2/1980 Community War Memorial Auditorium, Rochester, NY – The 1980 Rochester show stands out as a transcendent night of music. For me, it ranks up there with every other top-tier performance from that year and there’s no doubts about the band’s vitality—they weren’t just playing music that night, they were conjuring something far deeper.

 

The first set began quietly with Minglewood Blues, but it didn’t take long for things to shift. Sugaree followed, and from the first notes, I knew we were in for something extraordinary. This version soared—layered crescendos, patient phrasing, and a sense of emotional depth that reminded me of the best 1977 readings. It’s easily among the finest I’ve heard from any era. The band then eased into a brisk El Paso, and while a few more standards followed, the real surprise came with China Cat Sunflower—a rarity in the first set during the '80s. It was vibrant and full of momentum. Then came another unexpected pairing: Lost Sailor > Saint of Circumstance, delivered with conviction and flow. To close the set, they tore into Don’t Ease Me In, and it felt like the band was just getting warmed up.

 

The second set opened with a trio of well-paced tunes—Althea, C. C. Rider, and Ship of Fools—each played with clarity and restraint. But once Estimated Prophet began, the energy shifted dramatically. The jam that unfolded was one of the most fluid and inspired I’ve ever heard. It didn’t just stretch—it breathed. The transition into Terrapin Station was seamless, and the band carried that momentum straight into Playing in the Band, which opened up into a wide, exploratory space. When the guitarists returned post-Drums, the jam gradually coalesced into Iko Iko. At the time, it had only been played thirteen times since its 1977 debut, so it still felt fresh and unpredictable. This version was laid-back, almost breezy, with a tempo that danced rather than sprinted. Just as it settled into a groove, the beat dropped out—and then came Morning Dew – and it’s a monumental Jam Anthem version. Garcia’s solo built slowly, each note deliberate, until it crested in a wave of pure emotional release. It was one of those moments where time seemed to pause, and the music spoke louder than words ever could. They finish the show strong with good readings of Sugar Magnolia and Alabama Getaway for the encore.

 

9/2/1983 Boise State University Pavilion, Boise, ID – Officially released on Dave’s Picks Volume 27. This show was Idaho’s first encounter with the Dead—and theirs with Idaho—and something about this show felt different from the start. Phil’s unexpected declaration before Wang Dang Doodle—“Citizens of Boise: Submit! For you are a conquered people!”—only added to the surreal energy of the night. They segued directly into a rousing rendition of Jack Straw. The rest of the set was strong, but the set-ending Deal went out with a bang.


The second set continued the moment with a Jam Anthem version of Help on the Way > Slipknot! > Franklin’s Tower. This was a powerful version but they weren’t always precise—Slipknot! had some rough edges, but overall it’s an outstanding rendition. The real highlight for me came after Eyes of the World, when Bob lingered onstage, noodling as he wandered toward Drums. Brent joined him, and together they drifted through a brief but furious stretch of improv, shifting keys and textures while the drummers waited in the wings. It wasn’t long, but it was electric—one of those spontaneous moments that felt completely unplanned and totally alive. Another detail that stuck with me was the back-to-back Jerry songs after Throwing Stones. GDTRFB > Black Peter was the kind of sequencing was rare in ’83, when Bob often dominated the post-Drums slot. Tonight, though, Jerry took the reins, and it gave the second half of the show a different emotional weight. It wasn’t a flawless performance, but it was full of character, and it felt like the band was genuinely leaning into the moment. Sugar Magnolia felt a bit rushed—but they were clearly dialed in and ready to push. A heartfelt performance of Baby Blue encore from Jerry closes out this excellent show.



September 3rd

 

9/3/1967 Dance Hall, Rio Nido, CA – What a wild, formative ride this 1967 show turned out to be. From the moment I dropped into it, I could feel the muses were in the room—this was the Dead on the cusp of something big.

 

This long single set of music kicked off with a bold declaration to “start somethin’,” and Dancin’ In The Streets did just that. It started out familiar, but after the initial verse, Garcia veered into a solo that some say feels eerily like Dark Star—not the slow, spacey 1969 version we all know, but the early up-tempo melodic framework of the song. Take a listen around the 6 minute mark, and see what you think of it! As the jam progresses, the rest of the band held to the Dancin’ groove, but once they caught wind of where Jerry was heading, they followed. By the time they returned to the closing lyrics of Dancin’, it felt almost ceremonial—like they were tying a bow on something much bigger. It Hurts Me Too and Cold Rain And Snow followed, both introduced as songs about hardship and played with real conviction. Then came Good Morning Little Schoolgirl, which featured a standout Pigpen harp solo midway through. As the song neared its end, the tempo kicked up unexpectedly, leading into another harp break—definitely not your standard version. Even with some cuts, the nearly 23-minute Jam Anthem version of Viola Lee Blues was a monster. Garcia kicked off the jam with a flurry of repeated notes, then everything dropped out. What came next was a brief Caution jam, which then morphed into a slow, stretched-out return to Viola Lee Blues. If you’re used to hearing Viola Lee as a standalone, this version—with its segues and shifts—is a revelation. Big Boss Man, introduced as “an old song,” gave us a breather after all that intensity.

 

The last half of the set brought one of the night’s biggest surprises: Alligator. It wasn’t the longest version out there, but it packed a punch. Right in the middle was a nice improv jam—a real musical moment. The band then slid right back into Alligator, and a tight Feedback wrapped up the segment. In The Midnight Hour closed things out in style. This version is over 30 minutes long, and contains crazy jamming that takes this version to another level. Pigpen was magnetic—rapping, riffing, and leading the band through a version that was tight, punchy, and full of swagger. They were in full-swing, stop-on-a-dime mode, and it was glorious. For a 1967 show, this one felt like a blueprint. The early Dark Star-like jam, the segues in Viola Lee Blues and Alligator, and the final jam segment all pointed toward the future. These are the kinds of moments that define what people mean when they talk about primal Dead.

 

9/3/1972 Folsom Field, University of Colorado, Boulder, CO – I’d call this performance solid and well-executed, though it rarely ventured into the kind of deep, psychedelic terrain that defines many of the standout shows from 1972.

 

The first set opened with the familiar trio of Promised Land, Sugaree, and Me and My Uncle—all played with confidence, if not much surprise. Tennessee Jed and Black-Throated Wind kept the momentum going, but the first moment that really caught my ear was Bird Song. It followed the typical ’72 structure, with mellow, lyrical jams between verses that felt warm and unhurried. After that, Beat It on Down the Line offered a welcome jolt of energy, especially coming off the slower pace of Bird Song. The set wrapped up with a straightforward Casey Jones.

 

The second set kicked off with a brisk Bertha, setting a lively tone. Mississippi Half-Step was easily the most energetic tune of the night—Garcia’s solos were buoyant and full of bounce, and the whole band seemed to lock into a groove. Playing in the Band was another standout. It stayed within its usual 7/4 framework but still managed to stretch out with some high-energy jamming that hinted at the more exploratory versions that would come later in the year. From there, we moved through solid takes on Brown-Eyed Women—with Keith offering some tasteful fills—Mexicali Blues, and the always-welcome China Cat Sunflower > I Know You Rider pairing. Truckin’ followed, but it ended rather abruptly after a brief post-song jam. After Loser, the band launched into the extended sequence that defined the set. He's Gone was mellow and well-paced, and the transition into a Jam Anthem version of The Other One was beautifully handled. Keith and Bobby laid down a cascade of triplets that gave the ending of He's Gone a lift, and the band slid naturally into the rhythmic pulse of The Other One. The jam started with promise—there was a short drums segment, a brief Lesh solo, and then the familiar intro into the first verse. There were some interesting textures—mellow stretches, polyrhythmic interplay, and a curious moment where Keith ran his grand piano through a wah-wah pedal to produce some feedback—but the usual tension-and-release interplay never really materialized. Just as Garcia seemed ready to push things into deeper territory with his signature tiger-growl phrasing, Weir jumped back into the Other One rhythm, and the second verse came too soon. Wharf Rat followed, played slow and tender, and then the set closed with Johnny B. Goode.

The third set was a bit of a curveball, mostly made up of songs you’d expect earlier in the night—Cold Rain and Snow, Deal, and Ramble on Rose. The real highlight here was Rockin' Pneumonia, which had a bit more spark than the rest. The show wrapped up with a Jam Anthem rendition of Not Fade Away > Goin' Down the Road > Not Fade Away reprise, and a One More Saturday Night encore to bring it to a close.

 

9/3/1977 Raceway Park, Englishtown, NJ – September 3, 1977, has always stood out to me as one of the finest shows of that year. While ’77 is well-known as a prime year for the Dead, and this particular performance hits all the right notes and then some.

 

The first set kicks off with a high-energy Promised Land that sets the tone immediately. Everything in this set feels tight and purposeful, but the real standout is the Jam Anthem rendition of Mississippi Half-Step. 1977 was a strong year for this tune, and this version absolutely holds its own. Jerry’s melodic phrasing during the mid-song jam is gorgeous—fluid, expressive, and full of heart. The closing crescendo is equally moving, lifting the whole band into a unified peak. To close the set, The Music Never Stopped comes roaring in, fiery and relentless, leaving me eager for what’s next.

 

The second set more than delivers. It opens with the familiar pairing of Bertha > Good Lovin’, both played with solid energy. Loser follows, and it’s full of emotional weight. But the real ascent begins with Estimated Prophet, which spills into a beautifully constructed Eyes of the World. It’s not the longest version—just under thirteen minutes—but it’s played with such precision and grace that it feels timeless. The rhythm section is locked in, and Jerry’s solos, especially after the final verse, are filled with spine-tingling chord work that lands perfectly. What really sets this Eyes apart, though, is the opening. The band found the exact tempo and tone from the first note. Then comes the centerpiece: He's Gone > Not Fade Away > Truckin’. The full suite runs over thirty-five minutes and showcases the Dead at their most fearless and expressive. He's Gone stretches past sixteen minutes, unfolding slowly and deliberately, before dissolving into a jam that hints at Truckin’. That transitional space is raw and searching, eventually settling into Not Fade Away with a kind of primal certainty. What follows is nearly ten minutes of unfiltered jamming before the first verse even arrives. The tension builds and recedes in waves, and when the vocals finally hit—“Not Fade Away!”—it’s pure catharsis. The delivery is so intense, so guttural, it feels like something had to be released. The jam continues to burn, with Truckin’-inflected chords surfacing again before the final verse, adding another layer of depth to an already towering performance. Truckin’ returns to close the second set, this time as a Jam Anthem rendition. It doesn’t segue anywhere, but it’s played with conviction and capped with a strong finish. The encore is a surprise: Terrapin Station. It’s a beautiful way to end the night—elegant, expansive, and fitting.

 

9/3/1980 Springfield Civic Center, Springfield, MA – This show was pure electricity from start to finish. The energy never let up, and I felt completely swept up in the joy and momentum of the night.

 

The first set opened with a killer four-song stretch. Half-Step came out swinging—rollicking, joyful, and full of bounce. Franklin's Tower followed, and Jerry was absolutely tearing it up; his guitar tone was sharp and loud, cutting through with that unmistakable 1980 edge. The band didn’t pause before diving into Mama Tried > Mexicali Blues, keeping the tempo high and the crowd moving. Things mellowed a bit with Althea > Little Red Rooster, and Jerry’s leads here were especially potent—fluid and expressive, with just the right amount of grit. Then came Candyman, and it was a beauty. The vocals were rich and heartfelt, and Jerry’s solo fluttered and soared like it was floating on air. Brent’s Easy to Love You was tight and well played, with some tasteful keyboard textures that added warmth. Let It Grow was a highlight—jammed out and full of drive—and Deal closed the set with its classic punch, that final refrain ringing out like a celebration.

 

The second set kicked off with Feel Like a Stranger, and the jam at the end was long and exploratory. I’ve always loved how this tune opens things up—it’s funky, unpredictable, and gets the whole place grooving. High Time came next, and it was spot-on. The harmonies were tight, and the delivery felt deliberate and tender. Then Lost Sailor > Saint of Circumstance brought the energy roaring back, especially during Saint, which had a short but compelling jam that felt like it could go anywhere. I started to hear Jerry teasing He's Gone, but instead, Brent took the reins with a keyboard jam that led into Drums. The drum segment was a standout—full of shifting rhythms and layered themes. When they locked into a groove, the sound was so powerful it felt like a physical force. Out of that storm, Jerry emerged with a few minutes of intense Space, full of tension and release, before finally settling into He's Gone. Truckin' came next, full of swagger, and it rolled into a soulful, blues-drenched Black Peter. That emotional depth gave way to pure rock 'n' roll with Around and Around > Johnny B. Goode, which had the whole place jumping. The encore, Brokedown Palace, was the perfect send-off—sweet, reflective, and deeply satisfying.



September 4th

 

9/4/1980 Providence Civic Center, Providence, RI – I found the 9/4/1980 show to be a pretty intriguing listen. It kicks off with a funky Feel Like a Stranger that, while not as stretched out as the version from the night before, still locks into a solid groove. I really enjoyed the rhythmic interplay here—it’s tight, confident, and sets a good tone for the night.

The rest of the first set felt fairly typical for the era, but Althea stood out to me. Jerry’s playing during the closing jam was especially compelling, with that sweet run of triplets adding a unique texture that gave the song a little extra lift. It’s one of those versions where you can hear him leaning in, pushing the phrasing just enough to make it memorable.

 

The second set had a surprise I didn’t see coming: a standalone Supplication jam. It wasn’t connected to Lazy Lightning, which made its appearance feel spontaneous and fresh. The band really dug into it for a few minutes, and the energy was building fast—but then they cut it short to jump into Estimated Prophet. I wish they’d let it breathe a little longer, because it had the makings of something special. For me, the real magic of this show happens after Drums. The jam that flows from The Other One into Wharf Rat, and then into Goin’ Down the Road Feeling Bad, is classic 1980 Dead. It’s got that raw, searching quality I love—each transition feels earned, and the emotional arc from chaos to redemption is beautifully played. That stretch alone makes the show worth revisiting.

 

9/4/1991 Richfield Coliseum, Richfield, OH – 1st of a 3-show run. This Richfield run tends to get overlooked, but I think it deserves far more attention. The first set had a few mix issues—Bob and Bruce weren’t always balanced—but overall, I thought the performance was solid. They get the party started with a fun version of Let The Good Times Roll, followed by solid readings of Jack A Roe > Walkin’ Blues.  The clear standout for me was a blazing Cold Rain And Snow > Promised Land. It was fast, tight, and full of fire—just the kind of opener that grabs you by the collar.

The second set was the real centerpiece of the night with the opening Scarlet Begonias > Fire on the Mountain. It’s one of the best versions from the entire decade, in my opinion. Scarlet opened with a massive first jam—Jerry’s playing was lyrical and flowing, and Phil dropped a thunderous note in the transition that felt like a signal: something special was happening. As the jam unfolded, I could almost see red and orange hues swirling in my mind, with Jerry and Bruce stoking the flames. The transition was patient and simmering, and when Fire finally emerged, it felt warm and expansive. This Fire was long, exploratory, and full of emotional peaks. Jerry’s phrasing was crystal clear, and the final climax was so intense it felt like my vision blurred. This sequence is pure magic and it’s definitely worth a listen. After that kind of heat, the band wisely cooled things down with Estimated Prophet. The first jam felt a little cluttered—Hornsby was a bit heavy-handed—but the second breakdown was loose and jazzy, with Bob teasing Eyes of the World. Estimated then settled into a gentle He's Gone, which gave the set a moment to breathe. Space was wild and weird, full of strange Eastern textures that gave it a psychedelic edge, and it led into a rare and haunting China Doll—the second one in just two shows. Jerry then lifted the mood with a bright and shimmering lead into The Wheel, which felt like a breath of fresh air. The set wrapped up with Throwing Stones > Not Fade Away, which is a very standard closer for the time period, but it was played with conviction. The encore, The Weight, was heartfelt and left a lasting impression.



September 5th


9/5/1982 Glen Helen Regional Park, Devore, CA – I recently gave the Grateful Dead’s morning set from September 5, 1982 a close listen, and what struck me most was how dialed-in they sounded. It’s not the most exploratory show I’ve heard, but the band’s professionalism and cohesion really stood out. One thing to note about this show was that it was a music festival with other bands and it took place in the morning.

 

They opened with Playing in the Band, which felt like a bold move for a morning show. The jam started off a bit tentative—Garcia seemed unsure of where to take it—but Weir stepped in with a burst of intensity that snapped everything into focus. The transition into Shakedown Street was smooth and full of character, with some playful vocal interplay between Garcia, Weir, and Mydland before they locked into the closing groove. Then Weir dropped the opening line to Minglewood Blues, which absolutely cooked. Each solo—Weir, Mydland, then Garcia—brought its own flavor, and Weir even threw in the “T for California” line for good measure. After a few drumrolls, Samson and Delilah kicked in, after which Garcia quickly pivoted into the opening riff of China Cat Sunflower. The segue into I Know You Rider was led by a sharp, metallic jam from Garcia, and Rider itself was played fast and tight.

 

The second set opened with a solid Sugaree, followed by a quick breather and then a lively Man Smart, Woman Smarter. The show picked back up with an upbeat reading of Truckin', where Weir tossed in some improved lyrics. A short jam led into Drums, and Mickey Hart gave “the Beast” a serious workout before Lesh steered the band into Space. That Space > Not Fade Away sequence was the high point for me. It built slowly, then peaked with real force before melting into a heartfelt Black Peter. They closed with Sugar Magnolia, and Mydland’s piano work really drove the jam, followed by a joyful Sunshine Daydream. The encores—U.S. Blues and Satisfaction—were fun, with Weir’s slide work on U.S. Blues standing out more than I expected. Satisfaction came in abruptly but landed well.

 

9/5/1985 Red Rocks Amphitheater, Morrison, CO – 1st of a 3-show run. I recently spent time with the Grateful Dead’s September 5, 1985 show, and while it wasn’t perfect sonically, it had some nice highlights that won me over. The first set kicked off with a rousing Cold Rain and Snow, which was usually a sign of good things to come. A few other tunes stood out to me as well: Stagger Lee had a nice bounce, Peggy-O was tender and well-paced, and Let It Grow brought some real fire.

 

The second set was where things really came together. Scarlet Begonias > Fire on the Mountain had that classic Dead flow, and while it didn’t stretch into deep territory, it felt cohesive and alive. Estimated Prophet > Eyes of the World kept the momentum going, with Garcia weaving melodic lines that felt both searching and grounded. Then came the Drums segment, which had a shamanic edge—Mickey and Billy were clearly in the zone—and Space followed with a gentle, dubby drift that felt like floating through a dream. The band was locked in here, navigating the unknown with quiet confidence. Gimme Some Lovin' was a bit rough around the edges, but Wharf Rat more than made up for it—Garcia’s vocals were raw and soulful, and the band gave him plenty of room to emote. They closed the set with a lively Sugar Magnolia, which felt like a proper release after the emotional weight of Wharf Rat. But the real magic came in the encore. Brokedown Palace started off shaky—Jerry was reaching for the right notes, and the chord changes got tangled—but what happened next was pure Dead. Bobby leaned into the mic and said, “Let’s start it over,” and Jerry replied, “Want to?” “Yeah.” “You guys remember the chords?” It was funny, humble, and totally endearing. They regrouped, Brent laid down some lush Hammond textures, and the second take of Brokedown Palace was absolutely redemptive. It was one of those moments where the imperfections made everything more human, more beautiful.

 

9/5/1991 Richfield Coliseum, Richfield, OH – 2nd of a 3-show run. My take on these fall tour shows is that they were solid across the board, though they leaned a bit too heavily on familiar territory. On the second night, the first set had its moments. The Half-Step > Little Red Rooster opener came in strong—Half-Step had a nice lift to it, and Rooster was gritty in all the right ways. Cassidy packed a punch, too, with a jam that felt more urgent than usual. Still, the rest of the set didn’t quite rise to that level. It was competent, but nothing that made me sit up and take notice.

 

The second set was a different story. They came out swinging with China Cat Sunflower > I Know You Rider, and it was one of those versions where the transition felt effortless, like the band was breathing as one. Bobby took the reins for most of the pre-Drums stretch, and he was clearly in the zone. Man Smart, Woman Smarter had a playful swagger, and the Truckin' > Smokestack Lightning combo was one of the tightest I’ve heard from the Hornsby era—plenty of grit, and the band didn’t rush it. The rest of the show kept that energy going. Sugar Magnolia was absolutely on fire—Brent and Bobby trading licks, the crowd feeding off it. But even with all that heat, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the band was playing it safe. The execution was there, no doubt, but the surprises were few and far between.



September 6th

 

9/6/1969 Family Dog at the Great Highway, San Francisco, CA – 1st of a 2-show run. When I sat down with the September 6, 1969 performance, the first thing that hit me was how loose the band sounded. This one has a noticeable shift in feel—less rigid, more open—and I think a lot of that comes from Tom Constanten. His keyboard work here feels more adventurous, less tethered to structure, and it gives the whole band room to breathe. Pigpen’s bluesy swagger is also front and center, and it’s a treat to hear him stretch out.


Right from the start of Good Mornin’, Li’l Schoolgirl, T.C.’s presence is unmistakable. The jam builds gradually, morphing into an interesting triplet groove. Pigpen caps it off with that wild line—“I don’t care if you’re only sweet fifteen years of age!”—and it’s delivered with full Pigpen bravado. Doin’ That Rag is psychedelic in structure and tone, and T.C.’s swirling keys push it even further into the strange. Phil’s bass is right up front too, dancing beneath Jerry’s vocals, especially when he drops the line, “And the faces are crawlin’ up and down your sleeve.” It’s one of those songs that feels like it’s melting while it plays. The longest track on the tape is He Was a Friend of Mine, clocking in at thirteen minutes. It’s slow, sure, but it’s a noticeable step up from earlier versions. The harmonies—three- and four-part—are rough in spots, but you can hear the seeds of what would later bloom on Workingman’s Dead. There’s a warmth and depth here that wasn’t always present in the earlier renditions. The real standout for me was Big Boy Pete. It’s the first truly upbeat moment of the show, and it just rips. Phil’s bass lines are punchy and playful, especially in the gaps between vocals. The whole band sounds like they’re having a blast, and that energy is infectious. It’s tight, it’s fun, and it’s easily the highlight of the tape. Good Lovin’ is another gem, even though it’s only four minutes long. This was just the second time they played it, and Jerry takes the lead vocal with confidence. Pigpen adds some great flavor on the chorus fills—“All I need is love” and “Some of your lovin’, baby”—and the whole thing feels fresh and full of promise. Then there’s the first performance of It’s All Over Now, which is nothing exceptional.  Pigpen’s harmonica had some nice moments, but the band stumbled through it with a few noticeable mistakes. It’s interesting historically, especially since they shelved it until late 1970 and then again in ’76, but musically it didn’t leave much of an impression.

 

9/6/1980 State Fairgrounds, Lewiston, ME – This show felt like one of those rare nights where the band fully rose to the moment. Rumor has it that Bobby was under the weather with the flu, but you wouldn’t have known it from the way he played—his energy held strong all the way through what turned out to be a pretty long haul.

 

The first set came out swinging with Alabama Getaway > Greatest Story Ever Told, both packed with punch and urgency. Then Jerry dropped into a Jam Anthem rendition of Sugaree, and while it started off mellow, the first instrumental break lit the fuse. The second jam was the real eruption—Jerry leaned hard into his signature sixteenth-note triplet runs, building layer after layer until the whole thing just lifted off. It’s one of those versions I’d call essential. Things settled down a bit after that, but Brent stole the spotlight on Feel Like a Stranger with some deep, funky wah textures. Jerry picked up on it immediately, and the two of them locked into a tight call-and-response that gave the tune real swagger. Friend of the Devil surprised me with a soaring instrumental—more dynamic than usual. Far From Me didn’t leave much of an impression, but Little Red Rooster brought the heat back. China Cat Sunflower was fine, but I Know You Rider lifted things up with a burst of inspiration. The set kept going longer than I expected, and when Bobby launched into Promised Land, it felt like the band hit a peak—one of the best versions I’ve heard.

 

The second set opened with a juicy Shakedown Street, echoing the funk vibe from Stranger earlier. That groove carried nicely, but Lost Sailor > Saint of Circumstance and Althea didn’t quite reach the same level—solid, but not standout. Playing in the Band had a focused jam, though it never really ventured into the psychedelic zone. I was thrilled when Jerry called for Uncle John’s Band, and the band delivered a crisp, heartfelt version. The jam ended a bit abruptly, but it was still satisfying. From that point on, everything got unusually concise. Drums stood out with its cowbell accents and an interesting soundscape. Jerry returned for what might be the shortest Space I’ve ever heard. Bobby tried to cue up Miracle, but Jerry steered things into Not Fade Away instead, which wrapped up quickly. Then came a sweet little medley: The Wheel > Uncle John’s Band Reprise > Playing in the Band Reprise. There wasn’t much jamming in that stretch, but it felt cohesive and emotionally rich. They stretched out Sugar Magnolia just enough to give it proper weight, and the show closed with a joyful One More Saturday Night followed by a tender Brokedown Palace. It was a beautiful ending to a show that, while occasionally restrained, still managed to feel magical.

 

9/6/1983 Red Rocks Amphitheater, Morrison, CO – September 6, 1983 hit me like a thunderclap—this show roared from the inside out, and the musical depth was undeniable.

 

They kicked off the first set with a ripping duo of Alabama Getaway > Greatest Story. A strong and confident way to open the show. A beautiful mid-set Bird Song came off as eerie and intricate, almost spiderlike in its movement. It wasn’t especially long, but it packed a ton of spacey energy into its frame. Weir’s playing stood out—his hammer-ons and harmonics gave the tune a shimmering, haunted quality that elevated the whole jam. Later in the first set, Lazy Lightnin’ bloomed out of Supplication like a slow burn that suddenly ignited. The jam built from a whisper into a full-on guitar assault, and it felt like the band was chasing something just out of reach.

 

The second set didn’t waste any time—it came in growling and didn’t let go with a blazing Help > Slipknot! > Franklin’s. Slipknot! was the centerpiece for me. The band locked into a ferocious groove, volleying ideas back and forth with such intensity that I found myself dancing without even realizing it. Everyone seemed to have full license to explore, and the jam kept deepening until it felt like time was bending. Lesh was dropping bombs, and Garcia nearly pulled Slipknot! into another dimension entirely. It was one of those moments where the music felt like it might break open into something completely new. Franklin’s Tower followed with a breezy, joyful vibe, and I rode that wave for a while. Playing in the Band was a bit more abstract—Weir threw in some strange feedback textures, and Mickey’s marimba work added a layer that almost sounded like a second keyboardist had joined the fray. The jam had peaks and valleys, and while it didn’t get too far out, it held my attention. Space was led by Garcia and Weir, and it had a hypnotic pulse. Jerry played fast but mellow, threading fluid, lyrical, and quietly intense lines. Weir’s rhythm work grounded it all, giving the whole segment a sense of motion and cohesion. The rest of the set kept that energy alive—tight, energetic, and delivered with real finesse. Out of Space emerged a sweet Uncle Johns Band which worked it’s way into Playing from the outro jam. The Throwing Stones > NFA set closer is a cliché ending, but the boys gave it a tight and energetic delivery. A pretty Brokedown Palace encore closed out this fine show.

 

9/6/1988 Capital Centre, Landover, MD – 4th of a 4-show run. What a turnaround this show was. After a stretch of uneven performances, the Grateful Dead came out swinging and delivered a set that felt tight, inspired, and full of heart from top to bottom.

 

The first set wasted no time establishing its tone. Jack Straw opened with confidence—each break felt emotionally charged, and the transition into Desolation Row was unexpected but seamless.  Every lyric landed in the right place, and the band kept it moving with a quiet intensity. Garcia followed with a blistering West L.A. Fadeaway, full of bite and swagger, rounding out a compelling opening trio that felt like a complete narrative journey. Instead of settling into cruise control, the set kept building. The middle tunes held their own, and by the time they hit Cassidy > Deal, the energy was boiling over. Deal especially had that extra gear—Garcia pushed the final jam with real conviction.

 

The second set started off comfortably with Touch of Grey > Samson and Delilah. I wasn’t wild about some of Weir’s slide choices on Samson, but the band held it together. Ship of Fools brought the tempo down, and that mellow vibe carried into Estimated Prophet. Weir stretched out his vocal phrasing in the outro, while Garcia responded with a slow-burning solo that felt deliberate and emotionally tuned. He took his time leading into He's Gone, sidestepping Weir’s hints toward Eyes of the World and brushing past the drummers’ cues. That first solo before the bridge in He's Gone was sublime—minimalist, perfectly bent notes that set up the vocal section beautifully. The outro refrain was handled with care, fading out in a way that felt earned. Drums came in with a thunderous groove—intense but not overwhelming—and then dropped off sharply into Space, which had a jagged, feedback-heavy edge. It felt mischievous, almost sinister, and naturally led into The Other One. The first jam was long and conversational, with the band teasing the return to the verse multiple times, each one adding tension. The second jam was a bit scattered—everyone seemed unsure of the next move—but then they locked in and pivoted into Wharf Rat. That transition was sudden but effective, and Garcia’s solo in Wharf Rat was molten—each note dripping with sustain and emotion. The final stretch brought things back to earth. Throwing Stones > Not Fade Away was solid, if a bit by-the-book, but Weir’s delivery on the Throwing Stones bridge captured the joy of the night. By the time they reached Not Fade Away and the Brokedown Palace encore, the emotional peak had already passed. Those last tunes felt like a gentle landing after a flight that had already soared.

 

9/6/1991 Richfield Coliseum, Richfield, OH – 3rd of a 3-show run. The first set had a pulse from the very start—every tune felt alive, like the band had something to prove. The mid-set highlights are Stranger, Bertha, Peggy-O, and Tom Thumb’s Blues The set closer, Bird Song, was absolutely stunning. It didn’t just drift or meander—it built toward a full-on meltdown peak that left me completely floored. The jam was rich and immersive, and I couldn’t have asked for a more powerful way to wrap up the first half of the night.

 

The second set picked up right where the first left off, carrying that same momentum but diving deeper into the weird and wonderful. Victim or the Crime was dark and tangled, full of tension, and it melted seamlessly into a dreamy Crazy Fingers that felt like a bomb. Then came Playing in the Band, and that’s where things really took off. The jam was thick and spacious, with Bob tossing out sharp, rhythmic phrases that ricocheted off the swirling chaos from Jerry and Phil. The drummers kept pushing the groove outward, and it felt like the whole band was exploring some hidden corridor of sound. Terrapin Station arrived like a beacon—structured, poetic, and perfectly timed to bring everything back into focus. Space was short but potent, and the transition into a Dark Star Jam was pure magic. No lyrics, no structure—just sonic exploration that felt like it could stretch forever. Then came All Along the Watchtower, which burned with intensity. It felt like the band was trying to wring every last drop of energy from the room. Toward the end, Jerry reached deep for Stella Blue, and what he found was transcendent. The jam was delicate but powerful, and it reminded me how this song—after all these years—still manages to reveal something new. It was one of those moments where time seemed to collapse, and I felt every mile of the journey that led to that solo. That’s why I keep coming back—to be surprised, to be moved, to hear something I’ve never heard before. They closed with Around and Around and Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door, and while the real magic had already happened, those final tunes felt like a gentle wave goodbye.



September 7th

 

9/7/1973 Nassau Veterans Memorial Coliseum, Uniondale, NY – 1st of a 2-show run. Partially officially released on Dave’s Picks Volume 38 Bonus Disc. This show was the Fall ’73 tour opener, and it was a feast—rich, layered, and full of surprises. It was also the first show where Jerry played his new Wolf guitar.  The first set had its bumps early on. Promised Land kicked things off, but the soundboard mix was a mess—fits and starts, like the band was trying to punch through static. Sugaree didn’t quite lift off either, sounding a bit weary. But once Mexicali Blues rolled in, the sound settled and the band found its footing. Jerry started to shine with crisp, inventive solos in They Love Each Other and Jack Straw, both of which felt like he was stretching out and testing the waters. Then came Deal, and that’s where things really clicked. Jerry and Keith traded licks like old friends finishing each other’s sentences, and Jerry’s vocal phrasing added a playful twist to the refrain. Looks Like Rain didn’t leave much of an impression, but it cleared the way for a transcendent Bird Song. Thirteen minutes of pure drift—it was spaced out, exploratory, and deeply moving. What made it even more special was that it led straight into Playin’ in the Band, a kindred spirit to Bird Song in its structure and mood. The band tore through the verses with urgency, clearly eager to dive into the jam. And when they did, it was introspective and jazzy, a ten-minute stretch that felt like a preview of the tour’s deeper magic. That pairing—Bird Song and Playin’—was the heart of the set, and it gave the whole first half a sense of cohesion and purpose.

 

The second set started off with a throwaway Beer Barrel Polka, but that quickly gave way to a radiant Here Comes Sunshine. Jerry’s riff was dialed in, and Bob’s whammy-bar flourishes added a shimmering texture to the intro. The jam that followed was fluid and organic—starting as a trickle and swelling into a full stream, with Keith’s electric keys weaving through Bob’s rhythm work. Me and My Uncle came in hot, and Keith’s organ touches added a fresh layer. Loser was slow and deliberate, like the band was laying down a foundation for something deeper. Jerry’s solo was muted and haunting, and it pulled me right into the emotional core of the song. Then came the first performance of Let It Grow, and while Bob’s vocals were a bit strained, the tune developed into a Jam Anthem version. It has a freshness that feels invigorating. Jerry played like he’d known the song forever, guiding the band through a long, beautiful jam that eventually melted into a stunning Stella Blue. That pairing was gorgeous—light and shadow, grace and grit. From there, the show took a darker turn. Truckin’ had a mean streak, especially in the epilogue jam, which was heavy and relentless. After Billy’s brief solo, the band launched into The Other One, and Phil took the reins with a ferocity that felt almost combative. They jammed through multiple themes, each one intense and focused, until Jerry steered them into a massive Jam Anthem version of Eyes of the World. This version was a beast—19 minutes of soaring solos, a thunderous Stronger Than Dirt segment, and Phil dropping bombs left and right. Jerry’s ten-measure one-note riff near the end was unreal—pure madness, pure genius. The way the jam blurred the lines between rock and jazz was breathtaking. It was the kind of musical moment that makes you forget where you are. Eyes flowed into a jubilant Sugar Magnolia, complete with its Sunshine Daydream coda, and the band capped the night with a rocking Around and Around encore.

 

9/7/1983 Red Rocks Amphitheater, Morrison, CO – 2nd of a 3-show run. Of the three nights, this one felt the shortest and most laid-back, but it still delivered some truly beautiful moments. The first set had a quiet confidence to it, and I was especially struck by Lesh’s work during Cassidy. He wasn’t just playing bass—he was sculpting the song from the inside out, locking in with Garcia’s quicksilver leads in a way that made the jam feel both precise and spontaneous. It was one of those versions where everything clicked, and I found myself completely absorbed. Lesh also laid down a killer groove to kick off China Cat Sunflower, and the band didn’t hesitate—they launched straight into I Know You Rider with real fire. Garcia’s delivery of the “cool, Colorado rain” line hit just right, and the whole sequence felt like a burst of sunlight through the mellow haze.

 

The second set opened with a jolt of energy—I Need a Miracle > Bertha > Samson and Delilah came charging out of the gate. It was a tight, high-octane stretch that got the crowd moving. He's Gone followed with a sweet, reflective vibe, though it didn’t quite reach the emotional heights I’ve heard in other versions. Space started off a bit scattered, with the drummers lingering for a few minutes before wisely stepping aside. That’s when things got interesting—Garcia and Weir took over and started carving out sharp, inventive lines that felt exploratory without being indulgent. I even caught a Slipknot! tease in there, which added a nice layer of tension. The segue into Truckin’ was playful, built around a call-and-response between Jerry and the rest of the band that gave the transition a conversational feel. The rest of the set sparkled, but I had the sense they were pacing themselves. It was all well played, but there was a subtle restraint, like they were saving something for the final night. And sure enough, that hunch proved true.

 

9/7/1985 Red Rocks Amphitheater, Morrison, CO – 3rd of a 3-show run. September 7, 1985 stands out as one of those nights where the music felt both spontaneous and deeply intentional. The show began with Weir’s take on The Frozen Logger, which was more ragged than refined, but it set a quirky tone. The first set was short, but it packed a punch. Half-Step > Minglewood came in strong, with plenty of grit and swagger, and the band wrapped things up with the expected Saturday Night, which did its job as a closer.

 

The second set was where things really took off. Shakedown Street opened with a groove that was instantly infectious, and the transition into Crazy Fingers was smooth and graceful. That pairing felt like a perfect balance—funky and contemplative. Then came a jolt: a sudden shift into Samson and Delilah, which was blazing hot. Weir’s slide work during the instrumental break was gutsy and raw, adding a layer of tension that worked surprisingly well. Uncle John’s Band stumbled out of the gate, but once it settled, it had a breezy, relaxed feel. The segue into Playing in the Band was predictable but welcome, and the jam that followed was hyperactive and full of motion. Space was a standout—deeply atmospheric, with a Middle Eastern flavor that emerged through modal guitar lines, heavy reverb, and those slow, resonant tar beats during Drums. Out of that haze, Mr. Fantasy began to take shape, and Brent’s vocals were especially heartfelt—one of his more powerful deliveries. Then came the moment that elevated the whole show: the band broke into the Hey Jude coda for the first time. Brent sang the chorus once, and without hesitation, Bob and Jerry joined in. It felt spontaneous, like the band had collectively tapped into something bigger than the setlist. That brief, glowing moment was pure magic. A short but fiery Mr. Fantasy reprise followed, leading into a lightning-fast Truckin’ that barely paused for breath. Just when I thought the emotional journey had peaked, Jerry pulled out Comes a Time, and it was stunning. His vocals were raw and vulnerable, and the solo was drenched in feeling. It was one of those rare moments where everything slowed down and the room leaned in. The night wrapped with Lovelight, which brought the energy back up and sent the audience home buzzing.

 

9/7/1987 Providence Civic Center, Providence, RI – 1st of a 3-show run. The fall ’87 East Coast tour kicked off with a show that had its share of surprises. The first set was steady—nothing too flashy—but it held together well enough. Highlights for me are Stranger > Franklins and the closer, Let It Grow, which stretched out longer than usual and felt a bit tangled. There were moments where the jam threatened to lift off, but it never quite found its center.

 

The second set started off in fragments, a handful of standalone tunes that didn’t quite cohere until the band finally locked into a deeper groove. The jam out of Uncle John’s Band was especially intriguing—it hinted strongly at the Playing in the Band theme, but never fully committed. That unresolved tension gave the segment a kind of mysterious pull. After Drums, a brief Space led into a fiery Truckin’, which had real drive and purpose. Then came Spoonful, and Weir absolutely tore into it—his blues shouting was raw and powerful, easily one of the night’s high points. Just when it felt like the show was winding down, Garcia threw a curveball: a full-on La Bamba tucked inside Good Lovin’. It was seamless—the shared tempo and chord structure made the transition feel natural, but the energy shift was electric. Garcia leaned into the Spanish lyrics with real joy, and the band followed him with total commitment. It was one of those moments that felt spontaneous and perfectly timed. The night ended on a quieter note with Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door, played slow and mournful. It was a gentle landing after a show that had more twists than I expected. Not a barnburner, but definitely memorable.

 

9/7/1990 Richfield Coliseum, Richfield, OH – 1st of a 2-show run. This was Vince Welnick’s debut with the Dead, and it felt like one of those hidden gems that somehow slipped through the cracks. This show marked the beginning of a new chapter, and while later performances may have drawn more attention, this one still hits hard. Vince played it cool—sometimes repetitive, sometimes understated—but he showed he knew the material, wasn’t afraid to get weird, and most importantly, understood when to sit back and let the music breathe. The rest of the band clearly felt the weight and rose to meet it.

 

The first set had a spark to it, like the band was shaking off the dust and rediscovering their fire. Cold Rain and Snow opened with Vince laying down a warm organ line, and the whole tune felt crisp and energized. Ramble On Rose was another standout—Garcia’s vocals were full of heart, and he seemed locked in. Big River came barreling through with a kind of reckless abandon, and during Althea, despite some lyrical stumbles, Lesh absolutely detonated the low end with a barrage of speaker-shaking bombs. Then came one of those Bird Songs—Garcia wove MIDI textures into the jam, crafting three distinct, spacey themes that unfolded beautifully. It was long, inspired, and totally absorbing. Picasso Moon followed with a thunderous shift in tone, and Weir leaned into it hard, making the song burn. Closing the set with U.S. Blues—a rare move—worked surprisingly well. Garcia was clearly having fun, and the energy stayed high all the way through.

 

The second set kicked off with a funky China Cat Sunflower, and the jam that followed was patient and bubbling, with Lesh tossing out some wild bass blasts. Truckin’ came next, and Weir’s vocals had extra bite. The jam had a bluesy swagger, fast and loose, with Garcia tearing through his leads like a man possessed. Crazy Fingers was given a long, seductive intro, and Garcia’s singing felt especially present—he and Lesh locked in during the outro, guiding the jam into a silky transition to Playing in the Band. The vocal harmonies didn’t quite land for me but the jam itself had plenty of sparkle. It started slow, then picked up steam, with Lesh thumping out unpredictable rhythms and the drummers firing on all cylinders. Vince added some spacey textures that nudged the jam into stranger territory. Eventually, Garcia and Lesh locked into a nasty groove, sending out MIDI bursts that felt like psychedelic flares lighting up the jungle. The jam wound down with some extended Playing themes—maybe a bit too long—before giving way to Drums. The Drums segment wasn’t overdone, but it brought the energy back with a sharp duet. Mickey moved to the Beam and conjured up some ethereal, stereo-hopping sounds that were pure ear candy. Space began with rubbery MIDI plucks and shifted into darker tones—creepy but not over the top. A trumpet-like tease of The Other One floated by, and then I Need a Miracle burst forth with real force. The rest of the set stayed tight and focused. Garcia’s guitar-fanning at the end of Black Peter was fiery and emotional, and Weir’s raspy vocals on a short but punchy Lovelight gave the set a proper sendoff. The encore, Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door, was tender and sweet.



BTW, If you're not yet familiar with Jam Anthem versions of songs you can read all about it in Deadology II by Howard Weiner. Check it out here along with all his other great books.


And that's all for now! Of course, if you want to follow along in your very own copy of my book On This Day In Grateful Dead History: A Daily Listening Journal I still have some copies available here. Once they're sold out, I won't be getting any more made. The costs of printing and shipping has almost doubled in the last few years since I had them printed, and I've decided it's just not worth it. So get one now while you can! https://www.gratefuldeadbook.com/tigdh


A picture of the book On This Day in Grateful Dead History

A picture of the inside of the book On This Day in Grateful Dead history opened to the chronological show list section

A picture of the inside of the book On This Day in Grateful Dead history opened to the monthly summary calendar page for the month of June

A picture of the inside of the book On This Day in Grateful Dead history opened to the page for the shows on June 24th

Peace out my good people. Until next week!



 
 
 

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