By the summer of 1987, the Grateful Dead were riding a wave of commercial resurgence that few longtime fans could have predicted. *In the Dark* was weeks away from release — it would drop later that month and eventually yield "Touch of Grey," the band's first Top 40 hit — and the touring machine was running at full steam, drawing bigger and more diverse crowds than the Dead had seen in years. Brent Mydland was firmly established at the keys, bringing a gritty, blues-drenched intensity that pushed the band in directions Keith Godchaux never quite did. Garcia's playing in this period could be unpredictable: some nights he was locked in and luminous, other nights distracted, but when he caught fire, the whole ensemble lifted with him. This was a band at a cultural crossroads — beloved veterans and unlikely chart-toppers all at once. The Roanoke Civic Center isn't one of the hallowed rooms that gets name-dropped alongside Cornell or Red Rocks, but that's precisely what makes a show like this interesting. Southwest Virginia doesn't have a deep history in the Dead's touring itinerary, and catching the band in a mid-sized civic center rather than a massive arena or an outdoor shed often meant a tighter, more focused energy — the room breathes differently when it's not a football stadium. These were the kinds of nights that rewarded the fans who made the drive from the surrounding region, and the setlists from this summer run have plenty of hidden gems worth excavating. The songs documented from this show tell a compelling story.
"When Push Comes to Shove" was a Garcia-Hunter composition that had entered the rotation in 1986, a loose, funky number that gave the band room to stretch and Brent a natural place to shine. "West L.A. Fadeaway," another Garcia-Hunter tune, was a reliable mid-set groove machine — deceptively simple on the surface but capable of opening into something expansive when the band was willing to push it. And then there's "Morning Dew," one of the crown jewels of the Dead's entire catalog. A show that includes "Dew" is always worth your time; when Garcia reached deep into that song, it could be absolutely devastating, a slow-building elegy that seemed to channel something beyond the room itself. Whether this circulates as a soundboard or an audience tape, this is a snapshot of a band on the cusp of a strange new chapter. Pull it up, close your eyes, and let that "Morning Dew" find you.