Wooden and crunchy. Nice interplay between Jerry and Phil. Vince blows little zephyrs.

So much Dead to soothe my soul, and this is some of it. Tight.

When the going gets weird, Weir sings the headlight part.

This one doesn't have the shimmering lyricism of, say, 5/22/77, but the logic of Jerry's phrasing is a hoot.

Needs to be on the map. Features a jam that seems to be based on Skydog's 'Little Martha' and a nice 'Tiger Jam', but that's not all...

No frills here, this thing is just like a fastball down the middle--tight as hell and not a wasted note. The version used on SnR.

Beautiful tone from Garcia on the intro, which then leads into an excellent drum solo. The reprise is largely (though not entirely) subdued, yet still riveting the way that watching lava erupting underwater is.

Thanks for the heads up! Hopefully this thing will see the light of day soon ( not just get a brief glance out the window of the vault that is the Tapers's Section) as it is one hell of a scorcher. The drum solo leading into this is really nice, as well. Bobby has an odd false start to the first verse presumably due to something going on in the audience, I guess--but don't worry, as it don't detract from nothin'. Hell, it even gives Garcia a chance to get in a few more licks before Bobby relaunches the lyrics. In a word, this version is what I would call 'lush'. I wonder if Latvala was at this one?, as I believe he was living in Hawaii at the time.

Plenty of twang and a generous helping of X-factor sparkle. The transition jam is long and interesting, with Jerry serpentinely weaving his way in and out. Stands up well to repeated listenings; in fact, the more I listen to this one, the more I like it.

A dense, labyrinthine tapestry of tight, agile interplay. The playing here is not rushed; rather, it’s careful and concentrated, like a team of surgeons working on your brain. Here and there, little zygotic wisps of the MLB jam appear and then quickly dissolve away. At one point, Bobby tries to introduce the ‘Spanish Jam’, but it gets vetoed. Near the conclusion, Bobby, in a tit for tat, shuts down an attempt by Jerry to stoke the flames of an MLB jam. BUT this is a good thing, for what we get instead is a remarkable, spontaneously composed (but elements of it sound vaguely familiar) little jam that blooms like an aural fountain. And then we are treated to a very good ‘Morning Dew’.