This is the Miami jai-alai fronton; the Dead somehow–possibly through various dark magic (excuse me: darck magicks)–stuffed the Wall into here for two nights in June, ’74. The second night, with its deeply weird closing sequence (Dark Star Jam>Spanish Jam>US fucking Blues), is legendary and I;ve linked to it, so here’s the first night of the run: 6/22/74.
Different feeling show: instead of the rear-engined behemoth of the second night, the first night’s huge Playin’ jam is smack in the middle of the show, making it a mid-engined sports car in this analogy, which is poor at best.
I can’t even imagine the nightmare making this place sound good was: frontons are made from echoes. Echoes are load-bearing.