Grateful Dean

I’m gonna preface this by saying I don’t take drugs anymore so my experience typically isn’t colored by taking speedy acid or some kind of Chinese Counterfeit Molly mixed with rat poison. I tend to contribute more to the vibe in my environment than be affected by it. I think that should probably be the case for most of us by now… I hear things as they are and not how I hope they’d be. I don’t say it’s all great because it just isn’t.

Night one in Chicago came with a fury as the vibration of the entire city proved to be an outstanding host and a perfect choice for this event. Every hotel and establishment in the city is Rockin Grateful Dead music throughout the buildings and the experience is on as big of a scale citywide as I’ve ever seen. I’ve been treated absolutely fantastic everywhere I’ve been and I’ve seen little to no hassles happening anywhere around me. The scene is as kind as I could ever imagine for taking place in a big city. I Love my home city of New York but I don’t think it would’ve played the part of host nearly as warmly as Chicago is. I sure hope you’re all experiencing the same thing.

Entering Soldier Field, I began having what would be a series of vivid memories. The electricity that filled the air was unlike anything I’ve experienced since Garcia was with us. I began to realize the feeling of intensity I had all those years wasn’t really the drugs coming on as I previously thought. It was the sense of impending joy that only sharing music with your favorite musicians and 70,000 of your friends could provide. Either that, or I had one hell of a flashback Friday night. By the time the band took the stage we had all thoroughly seasoned the air they’d be breathing with a lifetime’s worth of Love, appreciation and anticipation. With the kind of juice the community was providing, an ideal environment for the creation of something far beyond music was clearly established. The Box that started the night was perfect as it’s a tune we all love hearing Phil sing. Eyes, not so much, but Box of Rain served as the initial spark that would provide all that’s required for the creation of a flame. Weir fooled everyone by playing Jack Straw on the 3rd of July and the flame was turning into a fire. It was clear that the makings of something very special was underway.

Bertha was always a favorite opener for me throughout the years. The solos would begin and Garcia would sound as if he was musically chasing the band. At some point during the solo, while dancing furiously, you’d hear Jerry get a burst of steam and begin squeezing as many notes as he could strand together, picking up speed and momentum as he’d go blazing past the rest of the band to take the lead. In a matter of seconds the band was now chasing him and it would climax with all of them getting to the peak in a single explosive moment that would send shockwaves through the venue. Those were magical moments and that shit didn’t happen because only Garcia was capable of that kind of shit. Bertha was outstanding none the less. Trey was off to a stellar start.

Passenger was a great surprise and it was becoming obvious that there was something much bigger than a concert that was taking place. When Weir is in the zone, his eyes are difficult to see even when the lights hit them. Friday night they stayed in the shadows of his face and he was in full melt your mind mode. No man’s land the only game in town! We were all fully engaged and completely committed to each moment.

By the time Crazy Fingers came around, everybody that talked shit about Trey for 6 months realized they were not only Dead wrong, but a complete asshole as well. Trey did what we all hoped he’d do and stayed true to Garcia’s perfect phrasing and timing while throwing musical gold into the air with a confidence that caused all of us to become that much more confident. He was completely himself and that’s all he ever had to be. And he tried… And he tried… And he tried!!!

The Music Never Stopped covered ground that hadn’t been covered in years as it seemed like the clock got turned back for all of us. The jams throughout were as commanding as the delivery of the vocals and it seemed as if Weir could fit into some ill fitting shorts all over again. Shows for me were seldom made in the first set but there were a few and this was certainly one of them.

After the standard, extended GD 50 intermission that was filled with hugs and the abundant transference of Love between all of us, the stage was relit and the brilliance that has been Candace Brightman for decades began to bathe us in the same colors as our fully illuminated minds. The light show was a perfect example of going as far as one can possibly go before going entirely too far. It kept the band and the music at the center of it all and enhanced the experience tremendously without any attempts to become bigger then the moment. That to me is the genius of Candace. Thank you Candace for brightening our lives all these years! I always felt if I wasn’t turning on the lights of Life itself through Chiropractic, I’d be a lighting or sound engineer. That’s definitely because of my years spent around the work of Candace Brightman and Dan Healy. I wish Dan was on the soundboard. He’d turn Jeff WAY the hell up!!!

The second set began to roll with Mason’s Children and the music began to activate the same type of physiological response as the LSD did all those years ago. I found myself looking in my pockets intermittently but constantly trying to find all the same shit that was there only a minute ago. Phil was outstanding and showed that when the material is right for him, a microphone can suit him just fine. Not on Eyes tho… That’s all I’m gonna say about that…

The first chords of Scarlet are some of the happiest sounding chords I’ve experienced in this lifetime. “Not another Scarlet-> Fire” said nobody ever! The entire band was breathing a single breath. It was one of those nights that their connection to the source of it all was running on the same cable. It was as if a decade of chemistry was discovered in the 5 nights between Santa Clara and Chicago. Trey was pure and his sound and tone seemed to be multiplied dramatically. His increased opportunity to sing was welcomed by damn near everybody and it became increasingly clear that not only was Trey the right choice for this celebration but he was the ONLY choice. By the time Fire came around I began discovering new dance moves I didn’t even know I had. The Music was dancing through me as I felt like I was actually observing myself from somewhere outside of me. Those are the moments we’ve cherished all these years and we were right there in the psychedelic stew. Almost ablaze!!! Then in the midst of that frenzy, Fire stopped so fast it was like the entire band got hit by a bus… None of those licks that typically end it just BAM…

Drums was outstanding and we’re the most blessed fan base on the musical planet to have Bill and Mickey do what they’ve done for us all these years. I don’t know what’s up with the oven mitts and spatulas Mickey is playing with but he’s sticking with em. The Rhythm Devils were outstanding. Mickey was in the zone deep and was like some kind of wizard. Bill was rock solid and continues to amaze and inspire.

New Potato Caboose out of Space was great and The Playing ratcheted up the experience to 11. The parts that have order were in perfect order and the parts that get chaotic were perfectly chaotic. The meltdown jam at the end showed Trey’s ability to get as weird as everyone else while still being completely in charge of the chaos. At one point the jam sounded like somebody falling down a staircase made of bass strings with a tambourine in their hand. Thick, deep, way out there… YES!!!

Let It Grow was HEAT!!! They made what they made since their world began. You really didn’t need much more at that point of the night but instead we got hit with the Cosmic Motherlode of Help-> Slip-> Frank to close it out. Once again the years started rolling back and I felt like I was 22 again. My legs regained new life under me as I danced furiously in the pocket of sound that surrounded me. The training paid off as I was in full Rocky mode throughout. I felt like I could drink eggs, Catch chickens, jump park benches, beat a side of beef, chop wood and still have energy to spare. I was climbing the steps to the top in total victory and the theme music for all of it was being provided by the only band that can do what they do. The songs that shaped my life were fresh and coming from the stage with a combination of everything that’s fuckin great about being alive! It wasn’t Bob’s band or Phil’s band or Trey’s band, it was OUR BAND!!!! Those are the moments I’ve quit jobs and made decisions to defy any and all logic to be a part of. Those are the moments that what it took get there, be it time, challenges or treasure, completely vanished and the one thing that emerged was an experience that never caused me to consider a price tag. Money comes and money goes, the experiences we had together last night far surpassed all of that bullshit. We left the physical plane of this life and were transported someplace that is truly priceless. The Ripple encore was like a diamond on top of it all. I’m different today for having experienced that last night. It was a moment that is indelibly embroidered in my heart and mind as long as I exist… How does it get any better than that??? I’m not sure…

Dead To The Core,

Dean Sottile (pronounced So Tilly)