Dixie and Sublime with Rome teamed up to make the day just a little brighter …

I hate Mondays. It’s that restart button you never want to push.

But the ‘beginning of the week’ doesn’t really exist in the cannabis world. It’s a steam-forward trade, open 24 hours, sleepless in Seattle kind of industry. It doesn’t normally care what the calendar reads, because there’s always work to be done. Products to promote.

This past Monday, Sublime with Rome — a reincarnation of the seminal Cali act that single-handedly delivered the SoCal dub reggae scene into the homes of every white American alive under the direction of departed frontman Bradley Nowell — had something else on its mind besides the headlining gig at Red Rocks Amphitheater: Weed. Lots of it.

On 4/20, Dixie and Sublime with Rome released a new collaborative marijuana-infused edible dubbed the ‘Orange Dynamite’ to Colorado dispensaries — a 100mg milk chocolate bar laced with orange oil. Because of the band coming back to town this month, the two brands collided once again for a ‘re-unveiling’ of sorts, with a private cookout to celebrate.

And after bothering those in charge for months with countless correspondence attempts, the team finally invited us to tag along.

A day in the life of a rock star isn’t as glamorous as one's led to believe. There aren’t any full-day ragers and quick brothel visits back just in time to blow a few lines and hop on stage for screaming fans. I mean, maybe in the ‘70s — or on special occasions — but not now. Most days, the industry is a finely tuned, professional mechanism scheduled out to the hour of where someone needs to be and how long they need to be doing it.

I arrived at Red Rocks around 12:30 in the afternoon, after a blistering drive down from Boulder. The crowd is immensely different at this time in the park than, say, a few hours before Global Dance Festival. Everyone has stretchy polyester things on and in the process of doing something called “working out.” It’s pretty gross. Looks painful.

Except for the one dingy van I saw already in the Lower South Lot with a beat-up tent erected beside it. Those dred-heads were already pounding cheap beers and kicking around a sac, pregaming for a show that wouldn’t even open its doors for another 6 hours. Fucking dedication.


After finally gaining access, myself and a couple of other media geeks sat and watched soundcheck. It’s nice, not having drunks to either side jabbing their elbows into your ribs or trying to scream “Santaria” every time it gets somewhat quiet. It was just a few of us, the technicians behind the soundboard, and the band working out a few kinks (and noticeably stoned from a session they’d had earlier). It’s special. The whole process is special.

Following a few rounds of shortened tracks, it was off to the private pregame, held at a residence about five blocks from the venue. Who are these people and how did they get so lucky to own a plot of land this close to Red Rocks? Can’t say, but they’re fucking brilliant and utilize their gorgeous space wisely. 

The front of the yard was set up much like a smaller music festival would be. Port-o-potties to the left of me, tables, shade triangles to the right. Everything branded with ‘Dixie’ and whatever else it was looking to hawk at everyone invited. Here I am.

And the drinks floweth …

Throughout the afternoon, I was able to pick the brain of a local weed critic, someone who knows what the fuck they’re talking about. Me? I’m clueless. I like what I like and that’s about that. He has far more expert insight to the new Orange Dynamite bar (and the industry in general) that I don’t.

He’d eaten the bar a few hours before, and he was digging it. "No expected hash taste," he went on about. So I figured why the hell not. When in “Rome” (get it?). I dove right in. 

Even though I’ve done this kind of thing before, it’s still a humbling experience to be around so much talent and musical history. Not ten feet away, mowing down some of the same appetizers and drinks I was, sat Eric Wilson, the iconic bassist that helped alter college parties and high school drives for millions of young people in their formative years throughout the world. Passing around a overstuffed joint, three people down, is Rome Ramirez, a man who helped revive a paramount slice of a cultural puzzle — bringing Nowell's creation back to Colorado for far more to enjoy than had been able to in the '90s.

Then there’s Josh Freese, crouched in the corner working on his phone. This is a man who appears on over 300 albums, working studio sessions with everyone from Devo to The Vandals, Guns ‘N Roses to Nine Inch Nails, Static-X to Katy Perry — this dude is a fucking legend. 

But they’re also people, at work, making a living and going through the same period of time we all are. Watching the same news, feeling the same frustrations. Enjoying the same lows, and the same highs.

It wasn’t long before the crew had to bail and get back to the venue. Schedules. There was work to do before the performance. And us, we just had to go enjoy the show, a gift from them 30 years in the making.

Then the Orange Dynamite kicked in.

I'm beginning to reconsider Mondays …

cover photo: Dixie Elixirs // body photos: Colab Marketing GroupNic Vasquez