Mickey Hart earlier this tour- photo by Rob Chapman

In the parking lot by the stage door a man playing a djembe said he had driven all the way from Philadelphia just for this show. “There was no way I was missing Mickey’s birthday,” he said, justifying the trip up to the Higher Ground in South Burlington, Vermont. When a scraggly haired bassist from the area hopped out of his car, it was clear that the evening would be a party of the devilish variety.

Inside, the intimate ballroom was filled to capacity with music lovers, including a middle-aged Deadhead and his sixteen year old daughter who was only there to see Davy Knowles. She had seen him twice before, and her father had seen two of the other band members upwards of a hundred. The Rhythm Devils led off their first set with a new tune, “Living in a Strange World,” declaring that they weren’t limiting themselves to the catalogue that first familiarized the world with Mickey Hart and Bill Kreutzmann. “Locked in” seems to be the phrase of choice to describe the way these two drummers play together and watching the synchronicity with which their sticks move up and down was a wondrous site. Knowles handled vocals with a sweet voice and laid down a beautiful bluesy solo. After the song Mickey leaned over and shouted to him “that was great.” And it was.

Tim Bluhm of the mother hips sung the run from “Cold Rain and Snow” into “Cumberland Blues” into “Uncle John’s Band.” There is a sturdiness to Bluhm apparent both in his singing and playing, a certain down-to-earth honesty. He is the Bill to Davy’s adventurous and cerebral Mickey. With the addition of a talking drum and the lack of keyboards, the Devils’ tendency was to groove rather than jam. Guitar solos were short and Andy Hess played bass with a firm and consistent authority, a striking contrast to anyone expecting the fluidity of Phil Lesh. Rather than search for the sound, Andy kept it on a tight leash.

The next song, like about half of those played, was another original. This one featured Mickey’s synthesizer toys creating a dreamy soundscape and included a dynamic talking drum solo. The non-Dead material made the evening fresh, and combined with Knowles’ youthfulness to invigorate the stage. The penultimate song in the set, “Good Lovin’,” provided a fun moment as Tim delivered a Pigpenian rap in which he shouted out to each of his bandmates, one at a time, saying they all knew what he was talking about. He concluded by saying “I’m addicted to your love. You got the kind I need,” a sentiment shared by many in attendance.

At the setbreak a man passed around a giant birthday card which he had everybody sign. But Mickey’s 67th birthday was not the only anniversary observed on September 11th. The set started with a sadly appropriate “U.S. Blues,” sung by Davy, one of the band’s two non Americans. During just about every break between songs, shouts of “Happy Birthday, Mickey!” could be heard in all directions. It was not until after a rollicking “Hey Bo Diddley” a “New Speedway Boogie” sing-along and another new tune, “Voodoo Zombies,” that the audience spontaneously sang “Happy Birthday.”

Davy supplied lead vocals on “So Many Roads” and the ballad showcased his nuance and tone. He is a real talent, a rare combination of deadly technical chops and thoughtful and deliberate improvisation, not unlike Jerry, although the two differ stylistically. Mickey then invited the bass player from the parking lot, Mike Gordon, to the stage. “He’s already got his horns” Mickey said of the former Rhythm Devil. The addition of a second bass along with Mike’s djembe player Craig Myers, made for a completely full and rich sound. After the longest and freest Jam of the night, “Fire on the Mountain” emerged, followed by an equally danceable “Scarlet Begonias.” Mike plays looser than Andy, and this, combined with his presence, yielded a continuous volley of smiles all around the stage. Tim sang the final two songs, “Going down the Road Feeling Bad” and “We Bid you Goodnight.”

This night was not only Mickey’s birthday, it was also the final show of the tour, and Hart acknowledged his entire crew by name. For an encore, the Devils played another non-Dead tune, the fitting “See You Again.” As they were walking off the stage and down the stairs, Mickey put his arms on Bill Kreutzmann’s shoulders. Without looking back, Bill gently patted Mickey’s hands. A small gesture, but a clear one. After so many shows, so many tunes, so many years, these guys really love each other. That affection is present in the music they create.