How many more Dead tribute bands does the scene really need? There’s truly already plenty out there. Even if the music is structured to be boundless and open for continuation, it seems like bands could better serve the music with an improvisational spirit, but playing originals instead of Dead covers. Indeed it takes a special group of musicians who understand the music inside out and have the ability to diversify the extensive catalogue instead of simply parroting it.

I moved to Colorado in 2010 to pursue my Masters degree in education. I chose CU because it had a strong program for my discipline, but I’d be lying if I said the town of Boulder, itself, held no sway in my decision. Having wandered in a proverbial desert of live music for five years, I was a deeply dehydrated Deadhead who needed an oasis to slake my thirst. Occasionally, a noteworthy band played at The Santa Fe Brewing Company or an hour south at one of Albuquerque’s few ramshackle venues, but these were rare occasions.

Mainly known for his work in Bright Eyes, guitarist and vocalist Conor Oberst is in the midst of a coast-to-coast tour showcasing his new solo album, Upside Down Mountain. Recently, Oberst played a nearly sold-out show at The Boulder Theater in Boulder, Colorado.

When Dave Rawlings hits his stride, the genius of his improvisation seems to stop time. All other distractions fade away and one can focus on his confident, driving guitar playing that is both discrete in melody and fluid within the larger harmony. Mr. Rawling’s is like a chess Grandmaster, able to play 20 moves ahead.  This is an incredible strength because as you begin to realize the beauty of what he has just played – a reward to those listening closely – Mr.

If the spirit of the 60s was still alive, it’s probably not through the music. Nostalgia is what connects most folks to those simpler, but equally perplexing socioeconomic times in American history. On a grand scale, the human-be ins and connectivity that brought the young generation, the baby boomers, growing into adults of the late 1960s, was a time when youth stopped buying into their elder generations ideas of conformity and the lies about being patriotic by supporting a pointless war halfway across the world.

There’s one thing you can count on from a Gogol Bordello show; you’re going to leave it dripping, either from your sweat, everybody else’s sweat, or with some red wine that frontman Eugene Hutz uses to liberally douse the crowd. You’re also going to leave immensely satisfied at having seen one of the best live acts going, period.

The Grateful Dead were always an unnecessarily modest group of musicians. Milestones, anniversaries, career-spanning accomplishments were underplayed by guitarist and vocalist Jerry Garcia in particular, who always was hesitant to accept hype around the group’s resurgence in mainstream popularity in the mid-1980s.

I have been going to shows regularly for over 15 years. Somewhere along the line, I came to understand that live music is my adopted religion and venues of great renown are, collectively, my house of worship. Being a Deadhead, in particular, is a sect onto itself. Until recently, I only understood this spiritual manifestation in the abstract.

After hanging out with Mike Gordon a bit the night before his show during the Toubab Krewe concert at the Fox Theater, I was more than ready to see his new lineup at the Boulder Theater. I pre-ordered his new album and enjoy listening to it especially on vinyl. Each time I have met him has been a peculiar, but enlightening experience.

It’s felt like eons since David “Dawg” Grisman has played in Boulder. Not that is really been all too long, but since then residents have all sorts of jammy and traditional grass growing underneath them. Theater performances and community picks become increasingly popular and plentiful. A sort of roots resurgence has blossomed and a generation of newgrass players is inheriting while reinventing this tradition. Purists need to a look back a few generations to what Dawg music did for what was then current in bluegrass.