It’s a spectacle from the outside – and honestly, spectacle is probably not doing it justice.
One minute it’s a huge yellow emoji poking up from the asphalt and winking at you and a second later it’s a blob of lava lamp colors swirling above the Las Vegas skyline.
Get inside the Las Vegas Sphere, however, and the spectacle meter gets cranked up to 11 (I hope that Spinal Tap reference landed).
I just returned from seeing Dead and Company with a four-decade Grateful Dead-loving friend, and days later I’m still scrolling through pictures and video marveling at it.
Oh, if Elvis were still alive.
I’ve loved the music of The Grateful Dead since the late 80’s and was lucky enough to see dozens of shows when Jerry Garcia was still alive and probably close to that many in the various incarnations of the band since.
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I’ve seen them perform as close as Saratoga and Albany and as far away as Buffalo and Washington, D.C.
I’ve been up close and in the very back of the stadium where the sound didn’t match the moving mouths on the video screen.
But NEVER have I experienced a show that was so immersive as the Sphere provided.
While waiting in line in 110-degree (record setting for this time of year) heat, I zoomed in with my phone camera to see what the exterior lights looked like up close. Picture the end of an LED flashlight stuck to a giant snow globe and multiply it by a gazillion.
It’s not a screen at all.
Once inside, there’s a wide-open atrium area with escalators to ascend you to your seat – and tons of Sphere workers oddly hoisting ping pong paddle signs directing you.
There were self-checkout beverage stations, various food options and plenty of space in the mezzanine area.
And as always, the people-watching opportunities were boundless. We saw senior citizens who undoubtedly followed the Dead in the ’60s, and we saw the constantly-twirling teens and 20-somethings on the floor whose parents were young when Garcia died. As a writer, a Grateful Dead concert offers up endless story opportunities.
But once the music started, with sound emanating from hidden speakers in the walls, all eyes were fixed on the screen that enveloped us.
I was honestly a little nervous that it might be a sensory overload, but I figured I could close my eyes for a break if needed.
It wasn’t.
It was spectacular.
A 200-foot tall red, white and blue clad skeleton danced for us during “U.S. Blues.” We flew down a purple stormy tunnel for “Feel Like a Stranger” and another golden tunnel that erupted into pyramids (in homage to the band’s concerts there in the ‘70s) during “China Cat Sunflower.”
And we took a cool visual trip to San Francisco courtesy of a zoomed-in and zoomed-out satellite feed of the band’s San Francisco apartment building from the ’60s where it all started.
We saw them engulfed in a jungle-scape. Dwarfed by thousands of nostalgic ticket stubs and posters and we saw the band’s famed wall of sound system being virtually built in front of us.
But in addition to the visual effects, the Sphere also provided up-close video of Bob Weir and John Mayer. They looked like they were having so much fun, and Mayer was loving trading licks with keyboardist Jeff Chimenti.
I was thinking how great this Sphere residency must be for them. No touring. They play three nights a week and probably zip back to nearby California for a week of chilling before doing it again.
Years ago, after some less-than-amazing Dead follow-up bands like Phil & Friends and Furthur, I was done. I had seen the real thing, and these shows just weren’t that great.
But when John Mayer joined, I was intrigued. He’s such a talented guitar player with a great voice. I decided to try again, and I was rewarded for that decision. He breathed amazing new life back into this band, and into Weir.
Although the setlist for the June 6 show (this band plays several shows without repeating songs!) we saw wasn’t nearly as good as the next two nights, even the songs I don’t love were tight musically and made fun for me in that Sphere.
My buddy, Patrick Boandl, from Vermont, called the experience a “total wow factor.”
He saw the very first Dead and Company show in Albany and agreed that Mayer was the shot in the arm the band needed. He said he loved all the history splashed on the screen, from places they played to black and white photos from yesteryear.
“And one of the wildest things for me was how there was nothing on the stage except the musicians,” he said. “The starkness and contrast was amazing.”
Jeff Mo’rad, program director at WEQX in Manchester, Vermont, visited the Sphere in April to see the first of four PHISH shows. As much fanfare as the visuals of the Sphere are getting, Mo’rad raved about the sound, calling it “unbelievable!”
“There are 1,600 speakers and these high-tech seats that swallow up the talking but let the music flow,” he said.
As a guy who travels the country seeing shows and looking for talent to play on the alternative station, he said only Red Rocks compares to the Sphere.
“They took it to the next level. It’s the future of venues. And now having been there, they ruined it for all other concerts for me,” he said with a laugh.
If you get the chance to see a show in the Sphere – any show – just go.
David Blow is a freelance writer and professor of Communications at Vermont State University Castleton. He may be reached at [email protected]