Revisiting the archived tapes of the Grateful Dead’s April 26, 1972 show helped Dark Star Orchestra channel the Dead’s sound with ear-bending accuracy as they recreated their set with remarkable historical accuracy last Thursday night at the Pabst Theater.

Seeing several laptops hooked up to the soundboard was nothing new, but the sound quality at the Pabst Theater was superb. The sound was so crisp and clean that it gave the illusion of a commercial live recording, even in the front row; the technicians in the back talked about it all night like overexcited teenagers. There’s no doubt that this show will be passed along in bootleg circles for a while.

The clearest portrayal of onstage magic was the shamelessly animated Lisa Mackey, dancing in joyous circles in between harmony vocal duties.

Perhaps a staple of those who know the music were the stoned jubilance of the audience majority. The pillowy visuals that intermingled with subtlety behind the band felt more like complete thoughts to those who weren’t in the right state of mind, but somehow didn’t distract from the interaction onstage.

Always reaching for the next best note, recent Dark Star addition Jeff Mattson brings a fresh sense of lyricism to the guitar-playing of the group, channeling the late Jerry Garcia better than any other imitator worth noticing. The amusing connectedness of the band felt perpetually locked into place, laughing and encouraging one another to take new musical risks.

Keep in mind that these risks rarely come without reward. The famously hidden sadness of “I Know You Rider,” the confident stomp of “Black Throated Wind,” the high times locomotive of “Turn On Your Love Light,” and the summer sweetness of “Sugar Magnolia;” All pinnacle moments of Dead history the band nailed without effort. Standing just as strong was the lesser-known, more jam-based songwriting of “China Cat Sunflower” and “Me & My Uncle.”

By the time band hit “Tennessee Jed”, it was abundantly clear that the crowd had no desire to be anywhere else, as its lyrics explain. Their set approached the four-hour mark before drummer Rob Koritz announced that the band was “way, way past [it’s] curfew…” With an unending appetite for the live show, the group poses a challenge to the musical stamina of long-established contemporaries like Phish.

The impeccable musicianship of the group sometimes leaves crowd with an uncomfortable feeling, as if knowing that these individuals are capable of so much more had they not been plagued by the countercultural stereotypes forever associated with the music that they obviously love. An undeniable amount of skepticism drives the concept of the band itself, along with its relentless energy. However, it’s never hard to feel the power of the [original] band’s music through the haze of secondhand marijuana smoke; it taunts you, inviting you to become a Deadhead yourself.

When rhythm guitarist Rob Eaton launched into a convincing, unmistakably Bob Weir take on Marty Robbins’ “El Paso,” it marked a moment of clarity as the begging and pleading of keyboardist Rob Barraco brightly sprinkled atop the muscular bass playing of Kevin Rosen.

In the end, Dark Star is way more than the tribute band they appear to be, whether or not they choose to be; comforting to some, but disappointing and unfair to those who know anything about the road life of being a musician.