This night was a party, and who could be surprised by that with the amount of talent at Cervantes Masterpiece Ballroom on this night. There were three bands and three painters that created an electric dance space under the giant disco ball to kick off the holiday festivities. The famous Frenchy, Scramble Campbell, and John Bukaty lined their canvas side by side on the left side of the stage and prepared for a night of sheer artistry.

As we feel the weather changing around us, and we realize that Thanksgiving is in the air, we also must celebrate a few other traditions, like revisiting the Last Waltz, or listening to Arlo Guthrie’s “Alice’s Restaurant” on Thanksgiving Day. In Colorado, we now have another tradition around this time of year, invented by the minds of J2G Productions. In the spirit of the Last Waltz, we have our own all-star jam called the Dance Party Time Machine. This machine, escorts the audience through a timeless tale of dance music through a sixty year period.

So many legendary touring acts continue to play and perform on the fortune of their loyal fans coming to see their shows. Stalwarts of the scene know that getting on the road and playing as often as possible is the lifeblood of continuity. Year after year, summer after summer, fans travel to see Phish, Widespread Panic, whatever incarnation of the Dead, and on and on. It’s refreshing when great lesser-worshiped acts get their chance to build a fan base, especially with the support of old mainstay bands.

The veteran cast, all-star group of talent called the Greyboy Allstars is back on the road in support of their newest album entitled, Inland Emperor, which the tour is aptly named after. They started it all off with this two night run at Cervantes Masterpiece Ballroom, which is one of my favorite indoor venues in Colorado. The opening band was the New Orleans funk powerhouse Dumpstaphunk.

We turned onto Welton Street, in the Five Points section of Denver, and started looking for parking for the Band of Heathens show on Friday, and saw around eight police cars posted out in front of the venue. Upon finding a spot a few blocks away, we loaded the glass, negotiated our way through a couple of bands of mooching crackheads and over to Cervantes.

If you are a Deadhead living in SFO, PDX, PHL, BWI, or NYC, I need to talk to you about time and energy. But not in the “How do you get to Carnegie Hall?” tradition of “Practice, Practice, Practice”. Instead, I need to talk to you about the temporal evolution and aggregate electrical output that are quickly molding The Motet’s funkified adaptations of the Grateful Dead songbook into an instant must-see classic.

Maceo Parker: his name is synonymous with Funky Music, his pedigree impeccable; his band: the tightest little funk orchestra on earth.

Everyone knows by now that he’s played with each and every leader of funk, his start with James Brown, which Maceo describes as "like being at University"; jumping aboard the Mothership with George Clinton; stretching out with Bootsy’s Rubber Band. He’s the living, breathing pulse which connects the history of Funk in one golden thread. The cipher which unravels dance music down to its core.