"The Spadtastics” is a terrible name for a Grateful Dead cover band. So they make up for it by playing their collective ***** off—creating lysergic-laced interstellar jams that will make you question reality and quit your day job. They reach into your solar plexus, tear out your heart, and beat it with mallets made of cocobolo, milled steel, and peonies, and shove it back in at the end of the set. You don’t just leave a Spadtastics show having been entertained; you are made a better, more compassionate human being.

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