Photos by: Marc Millman Written by Chad Berndtson

Like many a Phil Lesh & Friends devotee I look back fondly -- often reverentially -- on the years of the “Q.” They weren’t perfect, but on a good night, that dazzling assemblage of Friends players -- Lesh, Warren Haynes, Rob Barraco, Jimmy Herring and John Molo -- could do transcendent things. And by the time they were really hitting their stride in late 2001 and into 2002, they had become one of the few consistently great post-Grateful Dead bands, bending and reshaping the songs and sounds, night after night, until outside distractions went away, time stopped, and the music played the...well, you know.

That was then; this is now. More or less since the foldup of the Q, Lesh -- with the notable exception of the Jackie Greene/Larry Campbell lineups that dominated 2007 and 2008 -- hasn’t committed to a single Friends lineup, instead enabling different combinations of musicians with different slants, spins and experiences with this canonical music to ensure every night is a fresh take. Even during his time with Furthur, he cast the Friends net wider and wider.

That took some sacrifice, of course; the commitment to not commit means that Phil Lesh & Friends shows are no longer a reliably great night -- and some excellent musicians have been a part of some pretty mediocre shows. But it also means the sense of adventure isn’t just part of the show -- it’s the point of the show, and once in a while these “chance” lineups gel in such a way that the old Dead magic pokes through anew. And for an artist, now at 75 years old (!), who’s inspired so many musicians from disparate backgrounds -- including most of the jamband world’s marquee players -- to invest in it, still, is cause for celebration.

Sometimes the lineup in action lives up to the eminence of the occasion. And if it would be inaccurate to call the second night of Phil’s 75th birthday run “magical,” there certainly was surprise and delight in this, a near-Q lineup that swapped the protean Eric Krasno in for Jimmy Herring and welcomed back Haynes, Molo and Barraco as the old reliables.

Set 1, though slow to spark and patchy in its song selection, benefited greatly from spots of compact, tasteful jamming, especially in the roiling “Cosmic Charlie” and later “Here Comes Sunshine,” Barraco’s seemingly always-pasted-on grin the only thing brighter than his keys work. And when the band finally busted out for the set-closing “Blue Sky,” it was a big-time high: first a majestic Krasno solo, followed by sparkling Barraco piano, followed by one of those Warren Haynes solos where you think you know what you’re getting and it goes and goes and goes, getting meatier and hardier in vintage Haynes style.

Set 2 looked farther and deeper: space-a-delic “Dear Mr. Fantasy” spreading outward into darker tones and then fading into “All Along the Watchtower,” closer in feel to Hendrix’s than Dylan’s. It was here and throughout Set 2 that Krasno, who’d spent most of the first stanza picking his spots, seemed to feel freer to roam, playing off Haynes and throwing counterpoint suggestions at Barraco instead of just jamming next to them. “Viola Lee Blues” opened massively and then never quite lived up to its promise, but brought swirling psychedelia out of the trudging tempo, started to veer dark and ominous...and then wound up in Van Morrison’s “Into the Mystic,” beautiful and inspiring.

It was that suggestion -- a descent toward danger and darkness followed by unexpected light and uplift -- that the band kept returning to. The closing suite began with “Help On the Way,” abruptly shoved into “Just a Little Light” -- a good fit for Haynes, as always -- spaced back out with “Slipknot!” and then suddenly sweetened, with “Uncle John’s Band” and a thousand giddy grins to greet it. “Franklin’s” made its expected triumph, and the night ended on “Stella Blue,” more bittersweet than wistful in Haynes’ hands.

It was hard to shake nostalgia for the Q and you heard and saw the Q all over this night: Barraco’s gorgeous keys and wily smile, the Haynes-Lesh-Barraco harmonies, the starry-spooky tone Haynes often favors in this setting, the noodly jams hardening into songs just when you were sure they wouldn’t get anywhere, the great John Molo, in an elite class of drummers with a feel for this material.

But by the end of these two nights this particular fivesome had carved out enough to stand on its own, especially with Krasno going from nonfactor to x-factor, placing himself more insistently, grabbing tenaciously at the musical clay rather than just poking at it. It’s missing the point of Phil’s Friends approach to linger too long -- a slightly different group with a distinctly different vibe was to take the stage not 48 hours later. But you think back and then hold on to those highs -- “Blue Sky,” “Viola,” the arrival in “Uncle John’s.” They were the “there” there, with this group, on this night, and there just for a moment, not to return.

The Capitol Theatre Photo Gallery Photos by: Marc Millman [gallery link="file" columns="4" ids="|"]