Asteroid

There's a brightness at the edges of this one that is almost paradoxical given the density of the instrumentation — a sheen to the guitar tone that catches light even as the low-end continues to rumble below. The song moves through several distinct phases, beginning with a grooving, moderately-paced section before opening into something more expansive and almost triumphant in feeling, the riff gaining elevation as it goes. It reads like a song about forward motion and escape, about the romance of leaving things behind, and the music earns that reading by actually going somewhere rather than simply repeating. Garcia's delivery carries genuine exhilaration in places, his voice finding a higher register and holding it with surprising control. The rhythm section locks into a driving pattern that feels more propulsive than crushing, pushing the song outward rather than pressing it into the earth. There's a cinematic quality — it would soundtrack a car cresting a hill at speed, the landscape suddenly vast in every direction. It stands among the band's more emotionally open moments, a track that suggests possibility rather than just weight, proof that the desert contains sunrises as well as bleached bones.