By the summer of 1993, the Grateful Dead were deep into the final chapter of their long, strange trip. Brent Mydland had been gone for three years, and Vince Welnick had settled into the keyboard chair alongside Bruce Hornsby's occasional presence — though by '93, Hornsby had largely moved on to his own touring commitments, leaving Welnick as the sole keyboardist. The band was playing large outdoor sheds and stadiums with regularity, the Deadhead scene still a genuine mass phenomenon even as Jerry Garcia's health had become an increasing source of concern among devoted fans. The music in this period could be uneven night to night, but when the band locked in, there was still plenty of fire in the machine. Soldier Field in Chicago is one of the great American outdoor venues for rock and roll — a massive, historically loaded stadium on the shores of Lake Michigan, and a place the Dead returned to repeatedly across the stadium era. Chicago crowds were reliably enthusiastic, and the sheer scale of the room, with open sky above and that lakefront air, gave the bigger jams a kind of atmospheric sweep that indoor arenas simply couldn't match. This was a band that thrived in the open air, and shows at Soldier Field carry that particular outdoor energy — sprawling, celebratory, communal.
The songs we have from this date offer a tantalizing window into the second set. "Playing in the Band" is one of the great vehicles in the Dead canon — a composition built specifically to go somewhere unexpected, its open middle section an invitation for the band to wander as far out as they dare before Jerry or Bob pulls everyone back to the theme. What follows here is particularly intriguing: the segue into "Drums" suggests a deep second-set excursion was underway, the rhythmic pulse of Mickey Hart and Bill Kreutzmann providing a foundation before the music shifts into "Aiko Aiko," the irresistible New Orleans-flavored sing-along that became a crowd favorite in this era. "Iko Iko" — closely related, sometimes treated as the same song in different clothes — carries that same second-line spirit, a moment of collective release after whatever psychedelic terrain the band had been navigating. The recording circulates in solid audience versions that capture the outdoor ambience and crowd energy well enough to feel immersive rather than murky. Whether you're a Chicago loyalist or just chasing great "Playing" jams, this one is worth your time — press play and let the second set unfold.