By the spring of 1986, the Grateful Dead were deep into a stretch that many fans regard as one of their most underappreciated periods. Brent Mydland had been the band's keyboardist for nearly seven years at this point, his bluesy soulfulness and muscular Hammond work fully integrated into the band's sound. Jerry Garcia's playing carried a rawer edge during this era — more aggressive in his phrasing than the lyrical flights of 1977, and shot through with a darkness that would deepen as the decade wore on. This was also the period just before Garcia's near-fatal diabetic coma in July of 1986, making every tape from this spring run a document of the band in a moment they didn't know was borrowed time. The Providence Civic Center sits squarely in New England Dead territory — a mid-sized arena that could pack in several thousand fans, and a region that consistently brought enthusiastic, knowledgeable crowds. New England audiences tended to reward the band's improvisational ambition, and the Dead seemed to respond in kind. Providence isn't a storied room the way that the Boston Garden or some of the Northeast theaters were, but it was a reliable stop on what was by then a well-worn touring circuit, and the band knew how to settle into these arena gigs and make them feel personal.
The songs we have from this date are a nice cross-section of the Dead's working repertoire. "Little Red Rooster," the old Howlin' Wolf slow-blues staple that Pigpen once owned, had been revived through the Brent era as a vehicle for extended blues workouts, often giving Garcia and Brent room to trade licks and establish a deep, earthy groove before the rest of the night unfolds. "Tennessee Jed" is quintessential Garcia-Hunter Americana — melodically rich, lyrically warm, and always a pleasure when Jerry is hitting his phrasing with conviction. "Cassidy," meanwhile, is one of Barlow and Weir's most emotionally layered songs, and a well-played version has a tidal momentum to it that can stop a room cold. If you're coming to this recording for the first time, listen for Brent's left hand in the quieter moments — the way he comps and fills underneath Garcia's solos is one of the unsung pleasures of the mid-80s Dead. Whatever the source quality here, the performances themselves are reason enough to dig in.