hot one, tuff

Assured, cherubic yet experienced headlong patient gem in a breathtaking twilight passage mosaic of episodic loves and desperadoes. Wheelin' thru

solo is classic.. garcia searching for higher, more inventive chromatic ground

exemplary soaring freakout

Flaccid effort to close a mammothly chill spring 94 show with 6 songs pre drums and a beefy first set. Quality texture searching throughout.

delicate and angelic!! check out the dynamics and road-worn vocal

a smooth balm after "The whole universe turns white" as an acid head from the festivities put it. Keith-y in best way. jangly and Poco/riders vibe. Superb

the peak of a special Philly night, TO1 tease and all. Washes over you with the force of reprimanding from a cruel Pacific, the depth of sonic ascension from their seasoned brew. Cardamom and fresh papaya may whisk you past cyclone cones of infinite ceiling fans swirling remnants of shacks and pig shit into the kansas sky to a frontier activated by the apocalypse of war. The displaced are strewn. Kamikaze approach to tiger firebombing with hammond b3 fanning. hits the spot for any era of dew lover's deluxe. Punchy where you need a boost, bursting out to new spheres of punishing arena rock, tender and fluttery where you need spiritual repose. Truly hits the boxes. Bravo garcia. We could have prevented this slippery dumpster fire of world with compassion. Crispy pastry shells with spicy lava chocolate insides, fluid and unlimited dew.

sounds super hot to me, check out the kreutzmann whistle and unhinged cannonballs of distorted delivery. Inspired.

terrific space, the crewmen chasing each other around like coyotes in a mirage, walls of oceanic noise are scattered across the Spectrum like a live willem de kooning, bone crushing Lesh!!! No mercy