Dead & Company’s Long, Strange Trip at the Sphere comes to an end next weekend
“Magic is what we do. Music is how we do it.” That quote sat several feet wide on the Sphere’s screen. Jerry Garcia understood that the music of the Dead has always been considered magical by its legion. But the Dead Forever residency creates a spectacle of sensory overload even Garcia himself could not have envisaged his music facilitating.
Two longtime members of the Grateful Dead reprise with Dead & Company — drummer and percussionist Mickey Hart, and the original member, singer/guitarist Bob Weir. Soft-pop star John Mayer stands center stage next to Weir, shredding his heart out. Behind them are Jay Lane on drums, and bassist Oteil Burbridge. Jeff Chimenti also sits at the front, a large laboratory of keyboards in front of him.
One thing to note: Because of Weir and Hart’s presence, nobody–and I mean nobody–refers to this band as Dead & Company. They call them “the Dead” for short. But more often than not, people told me they were going to see, “The Grateful Dead show tonight.” To the massive number of devotees, this band is the Dead, brought back to life.
The music of the Grateful Dead is often mellow, meant to be vibed to more than rocked to. So-called “spinners” dance in their seats, spinning and swaying to the sprawling tunes flowing out from the massive speaker array behind the Sphere’s record-breaking LED wall.
The visuals across the three nights of the August 1, 2, and 3 concerts were nearly beyond comprehension. On night one, after a high-flying opening that started this long, strange trip, the Sphere became a wormhole, transporting 20,000 fans into a tye-dye galaxy of Grateful Dead Bears. From there, we visited the Great Pyramids and took a journey back through iconic venues the Dead have played throughout their career. The night climaxed with a skeletal bike-ride, and a cacophony of colorful peace signs, teddy bears, and other 60’s imagery which I can only describe as a Dead-gasm.
That’s the thing about the Sphere. It can engross you or create a vacuum of space at literally the flip of a switch. The second set on night two started in pitch black. Only Weir and Mayer were caught by the spotlights, playing “Dark Star.” Paradoxically, the playing contained a lightness that betrayed the darkness that surrounded them. It felt like one of those dreams in movies where the main character is walking towards an object totally surrounded by a colorless abyss. There’s this band, on stage, letting literal nothingness envelop them as they play. Soon, though, spinners were twirling on screen, going from dancing to floating high above.
The opposite of that nothingness came a short time later. “Drums/Space” is a signature of Dead of shows. Psychedelic rock lore (or, Reddit, really) says the “Drums” portion is always timed to be at the peak of, well, the audience’s own long, strange trip. Whether you were imbibing while vibing or not, the percussion portion is just about the most intense thing one could experience at a concert.
Jay Lane, Oteil Burbridge, and Mickey Hart begin playing around on a massive percussion rig that has about any strikeable instrument one can think of. The climax comes as they begin hitting on a massive bass drum that sends literal shockwaves through the venue. The seats vibrate like massage chairs, causing the concertgoer to literally feel the music. The room shook. It was startling and euphoric all at once. Rest assured, this is a signature and can be experienced on all three nights.
John Mayer played all three shows with an injured index finger, making his solos incredible to watch. He was able to do with two or three fingers what most guitarists couldn’t do if they had five more. He also traded vocals with Weir. Longtime Weir collaborator Chimanti’s keyboards added to the ethereal sound that engrossed listeners into the enveloping environments inside the Sphere.
Bob Weir is the steward of the Grateful Dead catalog. Once clean-cut in the early 2000s, he has embraced his position as psychedelic rock’s elder statesman. His thick white hair slicked back, and bushy yet trimmed beard screams “Hippie.” His voice is rich and low, at times a talk-whisper and at others melodic. Flip-flops, flowing pants, and an open vest made it seem he just came in from a peace-sign-adorned Volkswagen bus.
Night three felt the most melodic of the shows. It had the loudest singalongs of the weekend stint. The Dead opened with a tight “Cold Rain and Snow.” “Shakedown Street” followed. (Interesting fact, there is a craft vendor show featuring all-things-hippie at Tuscany Casino every show day. It’s called Shakedown.)
There is very little overlap between the three shows, and it is best to catch all of them to fully understand the scope of the Dead Forever residency. But no singular show leaves anything missing. On night one, we were treated to the live debut of a cover; “How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved by You.)” On nights two and three, the Dead explored the twangier end of their sound with “Tennessee Jed” and “Fire on the Mountain.” If their music is a mixed bag of psychedelic…um…Jelly Beans, you never know what color they’re going to reach in and grab.
Dead Forever is a lovefest. Pure and simple. The fans are the most chill group of people this reporter has ever been around while covering concerts. The anxieties of the world were left at the door. There was no mention of Middle Eastern turmoil, no belly-aching over the future of democracy. Dead & Company created a space that allowed for all of that to be pushed aside. The fans love the music, the band loves the fans, and that exchange of love is as spherically unending as the venue itself.
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