Sweet country Dead. Great mix if you want to feel Phil's thunder.

Jerry leans into it with a jaw-tighteningly crisp and high-voltage tone for a killer solo, though the group is a bit loose. Pigpen sounds amazing.

Absolute goodness. These shows are all so beautiful, the playing is all virtuoso, and the feeling is so positive. Brent here is especially perfect.

Perfect. Bobby's silky voice, Gerry's understated but perfect picking, and Brent's barrelhouse honkytonk all on proud display.

Poor sound quality midway through, but its the first '76 set since the hiatus that goes off-the-rails weird, evoking the Wall of Sound era. Hot stuff.

Fast and furious. Cut loose from the full suite, these Summer '76ers are greased lightning. Cool to hear it here as part of an expansive (but not interstellar) 2nd set full of great jams and tight arrangements. The transition into Wharf Rat is a thing of beautiful mystery, with Jerry hanging on to the jam well into the first minute of WR.

Too easily overlooked as a Bobby toss-away in the later years, this song has deep gospel pedigree. These early ones come blazing out like you best-be-goin'-to-church. This is a terribly underrated verison, killing it with the muscle and strut of the man in the song.

Endless energy! That's how. Endless creative and extra-sensory perceptive musical high-level energy. They're operating here across the electro-magnetic spectrum, drawing current from some cosmonautic source I've only glimpsed whispers of, seen in flashbang seconds of color, or whatnot. That's how, brother Glyn, that's how. But plus, if you want a cool study of how they picked up a thread and moved with it, compare this Dancin' with the ones later in the year (Sept.-Oct.) for a great taste of rapid-action evolution. Here they're still working out the form, hinting and ducking and weaving around the electric slide section. It's cool to hear them thinking in realtime.

Oh baby, that's a nice Scarlett, full of sweetness and light, lovely lady sounds whispered gently from within the backlighting, plus a dreamy creamy bubble-up-to-the-surface jam that just caresses. The Scarlett-without-FTM may be an acquired taste for some, but give this one a listen, let it take you awayyyyyyyy.

Thank you John Perry, you've brought endless joy with your art. This was one of your masterpieces, and it's been in my head every day when I wake up for a week now. I'm writing this just after learning about your passing, and just want to listen to Bobby sing your words all day. "Catch-colt draws the coffin cart" indeed, indeed.