By the fall of 1979, the Grateful Dead had settled into one of their most underrated grooves. Keith and Donna Godchaux had departed earlier that year after a long, gradual fade, and Brent Mydland had stepped in as keyboardist with a energy and technical firepower that immediately refreshed the band's sound. Brent's Hammond B3 muscularity was a sharp contrast to Keith's more impressionistic piano work, and the band as a whole seemed reinvigorated — tighter on the rockers, more adventurous in the jams. Garcia's playing this year had a focused, almost hungry quality, and the rhythm section of Weir, Lesh, Hart, and Kreutzmann was locked in. This late-November run captures the band in that transitional sweetness, the new lineup still finding its footing but clearly excited about where things were headed. The Stanley Theater in Pittsburgh was one of those rooms that made the Dead sound like they were playing inside a jewel box — a grand old movie palace with serious acoustic bones and an intimacy that belied its capacity. Pittsburgh crowds had a blue-collar fervor for the band that translated into shows with real heat, and the Stanley's balconies and ornate walls gave the sound a warmth that flat arenas simply couldn't match. When the Dead came through smaller theaters like this in the late '70s, they often played with a looseness and generosity that made the evenings feel like a gift.
The two songs in our database from this night — Tennessee Jed and Deal — are a nice window into the Dead's Garcia-fronted rock tradition. Tennessee Jed is one of the great Hunter-Garcia character songs, a shuffling, funky vehicle that lives and dies on Garcia's phrasing and the band's feel for its groove. When it's relaxed and swinging, it's among the most joyful things in the entire catalog. Deal, meanwhile, is an unambiguous crowd-pleaser, a barnstorming closer-type tune that tends to bring out big Garcia vocals and a full-band charge that gets rooms on their feet. Both songs were well-worn by 1979, which often means the band played them with a comfortable authority, finding new wrinkles inside familiar shapes. If a recording of this show is circulating, listen for how Brent integrates into the fabric — he was still establishing his vocabulary with the band at this point, and moments where his organ locks with Garcia's guitar are worth savoring. This is a Pittsburgh fall evening in 1979, and that alone is reason enough to press play.