By the summer of 1987, the Grateful Dead were riding a wave of renewed cultural visibility that would have seemed unimaginable a decade earlier. "In the Dark" had just dropped in July, giving the band their first platinum album and landing "Touch of Grey" on MTV rotation — a surreal development for a group that had been touring continuously since the Johnson administration. The lineup at this point was locked in and road-hardened: Garcia, Weir, Lesh, Kreutzmann, Mickey Hart back in the fold since '75, and Brent Mydland anchoring the keys with that muscular, soulful approach he'd been developing since 1979. The Dead of '87 were louder, more arena-shaped, and sometimes more uneven than the '77 or '72 versions that get the most reverence — but when they locked in, they could still do things no other band on earth could do. Red Rocks is one of those venues that makes even an ordinary night feel sacred. The natural sandstone amphitheater carved into the foothills west of Denver seats around ten thousand, but it feels intimate in a way that arenas never do. The altitude, the sightlines, the way the rock formations seem to funnel sound back at you — it creates an acoustic and spiritual environment that the Dead returned to again and again, and the Colorado faithful consistently brought some of the most charged energy on any tour. Shows here have a way of sounding alive even on tape.
The songs we have from this night tell a good story. "The Music Never Stopped" is one of Weir's most reliable openers of the era — propulsive, declarative, a perfect way to announce that the machine is running. "Mexicali Blues" keeps things loose and Tex-Mex funky, Weir in his wheelhouse. Then there's "Turn On Your Lovelight," the old Pigpen showstopper that by '87 had been resurrected as a Brent vehicle — and Brent's gospel-inflected attack on it could be genuinely ferocious. It's worth paying close attention to how he commands that one. "I Know You Rider" is one of those songs that seems simple until you hear the way the band breathes through it together, Garcia's guitar tone taking on an almost vocal quality in the outro. Whatever source you're listening from, put yourself in those red rocks and let Brent's hands on the keys remind you why this era has more defenders than it used to. Press play.