CUYAHOGA FALLS, Ohio - For the record, Dead & Company - the current offshoot of the Grateful Dead - has only two songs. Thing is, one is about an hour long and the other is a little more than 90 minutes.

OK, OK that's a bit of an exaggeration. Truth is that Dead vets Bob Weir, Bill Kreutzmann and Mickey Hart and "fill-ins'' John Mayer on vocals and guitar, Oteil Burbridge on bass and Jeff Chimenti on keys did play 17 named songs in the band's two sets at Blossom Music Center on Wednesday night.

Not that everyone saw all 17. In 25 years of covering shows at Blossom, the traffic was the worst I've ever seen. Sure, this was a sellout - and rightfully so - but people (including frustrated pop music critics) were spending literally hours on the roads leading into the venue. That hasn't happened in recent years, even during other sold-out concerts. Some people even abandoned cars willy-nilly along the side of the road and walked as much as a couple of miles into the amphitheater.

In short, a typical Dead show.

Getting into sold-out Blossom Music Center for the Dead & Company show was a test of endurance. For some, it took almost two hours to navigate the Valley Gate's Northampton Road from Akron-Peninsula Road.

Of course, we could have avoided that hassle. Just before the show began - late (also a typical Dead trait, but this time thankfully so, as it meant I caught the first tune) - the band announced that the concert would be live-streamed for free on its website.

There is nothing really like being at a Dead show, and make no mistake: Though the band is Dead & Company and doesn't have Phil Lesh or Jerry Garcia, this was the Grateful Dead.

The first clue for me actually was the rules the band put on photography. In most shows, the media is told in advance that photographers can shoot the first two or three songs, from the pit or soundboard. For this one, it was "the first 15 minutes.'' That meant photographers could take pictures all during show-opener "Hell in a Bucket'' and for eight minutes of the 12-minute second tune, "Mississippi Half-Step Uptown Toodeloo.''

The Dead - Grateful or not - has never been known for adhering to the three-minute formula for pop music.

"Black-Throated Wind,'' "Cassidy,'' "Big Railroad Blues,'' and a really clever Deadified cover of Johnny Cash's "Big River'' made a special night even better.

But few things can compare to hearing the Dead do what for some is THE Dead song: "Truckin'.'' Hearing Weir and Co. sing the immortal "What a long strange trip it's been'' pretty much underscored what a long strange trip it really HAS been since the Grateful Dead came on the scene.

I have to say, too, that there probably is no better fit for Mayer than Dead & Company. It is the current incarnation of the original jam band, and allowed him to turn his Paul Reed Smith guitars into instruments of mass construction, building layer upon layer of riff, often paired in harmony with Weir. Somewhere, Garcia is smiling.

Mayer's voice, too, turned out to be a boon. Weir's rasp and staccato delivery aren't always the most melodious. But when paired with Mayer, and especially if Burbridge and Chimenti add their vocals, it becomes a distinctively harmonious blend. Nobody's ever going to confuse the lineup for a psychedelic version of the Vienna Boys Choir, but it was pleasant to the ear.

Hart and Kreutzmann got their time in spotlight, too, as the two drummers teamed for a marathon solo that showcased both their diversity and put Hart's storied instrument "The Beam'' - a massive aluminum I-Beam strung with piano wires -- on display.

"Display'' is a good word for the entire show, really. The stage set perfectly reflects the whole Grateful Dead - er, Dead & Company - mystique, especially with video screens that showed distorted Timothy Leary-worthy images of the musicians throughout the concert.

For the most part, those distorted videos were the closest thing to the so-called "hippie culture'' in the show, aside from the occasional spinning dancer or air guitarist in the seats and aisles. And while there was a hint of the aroma you'd expect to whiff at a Dead show, it was nowhere near as pervasive as I expected.

Not that I was disappointed, of course. Honest. I mean, those days are over for me, too. And, I suspect, for a majority of the more than 20,000 at Blossom. And it didn't really matter, as long as we got to take one more - maybe one LAST - long, strange trip with the Dead.