By the summer of 1989, the Grateful Dead were operating at a genuinely remarkable level of commercial success while still delivering the kind of sprawling, unpredictable live music that had defined them for two decades. Brent Mydland, now a decade into his tenure as keyboardist, had fully come into his own — his bluesy, full-throated playing and vocals had given the band a harder, more muscular edge than the Keith Godchaux years, and his chemistry with Garcia felt lived-in and intuitive. The band was fresh off the release of *Built to Last* sessions and riding the wave of renewed mainstream attention that had followed *In the Dark* and "Touch of Grey" two years prior. Everywhere they played, the crowds were enormous and enthusiastic, sometimes overwhelmingly so — yet on the right night, the band could still find that deep, meditative space that made the Dead the Dead. The Greek Theatre at UC Berkeley is one of those rooms that seems designed for the Grateful Dead. Set into the hills above the Berkeley campus with a natural amphitheater feel, open to the warm East Bay evening air and surrounded by eucalyptus, it's an intimate outdoor venue that rewards attentive listening. The sightlines are excellent, the acoustics generous, and the crowd drawn from one of the most devoted regional fanbases in the country.
The Dead played the Greek with some regularity throughout the '80s, and shows here have a particular warmth to them — there's a sense of homecoming just a few miles from where so much of the band's story began. The one song we have catalogued from this show is "When I Paint My Masterpiece," the Bob Dylan cover that the Dead had been performing since the early '70s and which by the late '80s had become a genuine crowd-pleaser and a reliable showcase for the band's interpretive generosity. Where Dylan's original is melancholy and picaresque, the Dead's version tends to open up — Garcia's guitar finding the wistful longing in the lyric, Brent adding color and lift beneath him, the whole thing swaying with a kind of celebratory fatalism. When they're locked in, it's one of the more purely joyful songs in the canon. Whatever sources survive from this show, the Greek's natural sonic environment tends to capture well on tape, and audience recordings from this venue often have a pleasing air and warmth to them. If you're looking for a late-'80s Dead evening in a beautiful outdoor setting with a band still very much capable of surprising you — this is a fine place to start.