Blake Dowling
Last week at the Atlanta airport, I ran into an old friend for the first time in a decade. She asked where I was headed, and when I replied “Vegas,” she said she was going there too.
When she asked about my reason for the trip, I mentioned that I was going to see a band at the Sphere. To my surprise, she managed that band. “You manage the Dead?” I asked, and she confirmed.
I responded, “That’s cool,” and then we all boarded our flight to the desert.
My thoughts drifted back in time as the desert landscape unfolded before me through the airplane window.
This wasn’t my first flight to see the Dead in Vegas.
Thirty years ago, in 1995, I was a 20-year-old college student embarking on a journey with 12 friends to catch three shows at UNLV’s stadium on May 19, 20, and 21. The Grateful Dead played alongside the Dave Matthews Band each day, followed by Widespread Panic performing late into the night at an old movie theater.
We had an absolute blast, enjoying nearly eight hours of live music daily. We would head to the Dead shows by noon, relishing the impromptu marketplace outside the venue known as Shakedown Street. This tradition, begun in the 1980s, remains a vital part of the band’s culture, offering a range of items from T-shirts and beer to grilled cheese sandwiches.
After the evening shows, we returned to the MGM Grand by dawn and repeated the experience the next day. For 1995, it was the pinnacle of live music experiences.
Since the 1960s, the Grateful Dead have survived and thrived in various forms.
They were pioneers in allowing fans to trade music and record concerts long before the internet existed. If you’ve never known someone with a cassette collection of live Dead shows, there are enthusiasts out there, like my buddy Pug, who created hand-printed bootleg covers.
Their branding, featuring iconic images like the Bears and the Steal Your Face logo, is unmatched, and their innovative audio technology, such as the wall of sound, is legendary. Yet, the most significant aspect of their legacy is the community built around their music, allowing fans to join in or leave the experience at any time or era. The Dead continue to evolve from the folk music of the 60s to disco, hair metal, and electronica.
It is fitting that they are pioneers at the Sphere again, ushering in a new era of unparalleled live performances.
The Sphere is a $2.3 billion technical marvel, featuring 4D effects and floor-to-ceiling LED screens that total 160,000 square feet, which might also be great for Mario Kart. With over 1,900 speakers and seats that vibrate throughout the experience, the venue offers first-class food and beverage options, surpassing even the grilled cheese from my last Dead show.
I also read that the venue can create immersive experiences with wind and scents, but I didn’t detect any patchouli, so it must have been turned off for our sold-out show, which had a capacity of 18,600.
The Grateful Dead officially retired as a band, and the group carrying on their legacy in 2025 is called Dead and Company. The current lineup features original Dead members Bob Weir (guitar, vocals) and Mickey Hart (percussion); John Mayer (guitar, vocals), Jeff Chimenti (keyboards, vocals), former Allman Brothers member Oteil Burbridge (bass, vocals), and Jay Lane (drums).
For our 2025 concert experience, there was no desert, no “Shakedown Street “— just room service and an air-conditioned indoor walk from the Venetian Hotel to the venue, as the properties are connected.
Twenty-year-old me cherished the authentic desert party experience, while 50-year-old me appreciated the convenience and comfort.
Our seats provided a fantastic view of the entire venue, and the show was nothing short of cosmically mind-blowing. The band was as tight as I’ve ever heard, which is remarkable for a jam band known for their extended versions of classics like “Truckin’,” never playing the same set list twice.
Our set list included several epic Dead classics, with “Franklin’s Tower” being my favorite.
Other highlights were “St. Stephen,” “Bertha,” “Truckin’,” “Loser,” “China Cat,” “Brown Eyed Women,” and a rocking encore of “Sugar Magnolia.”
Unfortunately, “Touch of Grey” wasn’t included, which would have perfectly contrasted my current hairstyle and color with my appearance 30 years ago.
I texted friends from that epic 1995 trip the morning after the show. One of them, Sharp, quipped that it looked like “Sphere and Loathing in Las Vegas,” referencing Hunter Thompson’s “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.”
Indeed, it was, and thus the title of this column was born.
Over the years, I’ve attended hundreds of shows, and I thought my Top 10 was set in stone.
I never expected to add a new one to my Top 5 this summer, but the experience was that extraordinary. I’m grateful to have witnessed the world this band created at 20 and again at 50. My perspective has changed dramatically, but the music continues to play on as life moves forward.
To recapture that pure joy and share it with friends from then, and with Jeanne today, is one of the most incredible experiences I’ve had in live music.
How fitting that the Dead are once again pioneers in the ultimate concert experience on Earth.
The Dead at the Sphere was a moment for the rock ‘n’ roll record books, and when they do another residency, I highly recommend you join me there in 2026 for some Sphere and Loathing of your own.
