The shock of the act quickly faded as the band got ready to take the stage, Jerry already wobbly and nearly incoherent. Listening to the soundboard – which is itself incomplete and probably out of order – it is clear that something was up with Jerry. Rather than the sweet sound of his guitar, there are some wretched notes, as if a virtuoso’s hands suddenly turned to cement, which is more or less exactly what happened. As Parish details, “the band soldiered on, veering almost immediately from the planned set list to a series of tunes on which Bobby would sing and play lead guitar, even as Jerry sort of wobbled in place, half conscious.” One commenter on Archive who was at the show, a “Mr. Chiclet,” even claims Jerry sat down on the drum riser and nodded off during the show. If you want to hear for yourself just what happened when they let Jerry sing, give a listen to the Stagger Lee and, if need be, compare it to the speed and consistency of the one from Market Square just four days before on 2/3/79.

Parish goes on to describe a hilarious – if it wasn’t so serious – set break in which they pump Jerry full of all sorts of uppers, including Black Beauties, Bennies, and coke, all in an attempt to revive him. It seemed to work, as Jerry came out and at least made it through the second set without terribly blowing it. On the soundboard, the Bertha and Miracle, which likely came from the second set, are a little more fast paced and rocking, though they are nowhere near perfect, let alone merely inspiring.

In his book, Parish links this night directly to Garcia’s ongoing, and deepening, struggle with heroin, which, as we all know, would ultimately lead to a series of attempts to get clean. From this perspective, 2/7/79 appears as one of the few on-stage examples of Jerry’s deep dependence on drugs and portends all that was to befall the band in future years. Without the benefit of hindsight though, it probably seemed like just another interesting footnote to the Dead’s sordid but rapturous history at that point.