Links to all my year-end/decade-end lists, for my own convenience and yours.
Happy New Year!
Favorite Shows of 2009
Favorite Shows of the Decade (+ Favorite ResideNYC's of the Decade)
Favorite Albums of 2009
Favorite Albums of the Decade
Favorite New (To Me) Artists of 2009
Favorite Artist of the Year
Favorite Artists of the Year for the Decade
Favorite Movies of 2009
Favorite Movies of the Decade
Another great year of live music! Almost got to the century mark, but hit a wall of inertia, weather and holidays in early December and haven't been out in 3 weeks. That's OK, had my fill. One more show to hit this year tomorrow night, Bad Plus on New Year's @ Village Vanguard. Something tells me there's room for that on on this list.
The raw data:
Number of shows: 95
Number of different bands seen: 180+
Number of bands seen for the first time: 119
Band seen most often: Phish (12)
Number of different venues: 39
Venue hit most often: Mercury Lounge (15)
Number of cities hit: 16
Number of states hit: 7
Number of festivals: 4 (in 4 different states)
Here are my favorite 50 or so...
An addendum to the last post about my favorite shows of the 2000's, here are my favorite NYC residencies, either long-running or one-off's, that made the decade what it was...
OK, so keeping tabs on these things, I was able to go back and see that I've seen right around 850 concerts in the past decade -- ~85 a year! Not too shabby seeing as I also had two children, got a PhD and maintained a happy marriage over the same period.
Here is a limited list of some of my absolute favorites over the past 10 years, with some comments where appropriate; it's possible that more recent shows got more love due to my fading memories
Just looking back over my list from 2008 and realized I've got nearly the same number of albums for this year and can recommend about the same. Few disappointments and plenty to pick at. Here are my favorite 60, grouped in 10's. Usual caveats apply: these are my favorites, not pretending these are the "best" or that your opinion will jibe with mine; also not pretending that I've heard every album there is... if your favorite isn't listed, there's a good chance I didn't hear it. Don't whine, just recommend, I promise I'll take your opinion to heart.
Here it is:
The top ten (alphabetical):
The Bad Plus (w/ Wendy Lewis) -- For All I Care
The list of "can't do no wrong in Neddy's eyes" musicians is a short one, but any regular reader should know that The Bad Plus is near the top. The most postmodern piano trio in the history of the piano takes it to the next logical step, adding a vocalist on an album of covers. I could write 10000 words on the levels of deconstruction and meta-music and commentary on music and jazz and pop and how we listen to what we listen to and like what we like that may or may not be going on over the course of this album, or I could just tell you that it's plain brilliant.
Andrew Bird -- Noble Beast
Usually a musician with the set of talents that ABird has at his disposal ends up lacking something in the soul department. That doesn't seem to be a problem here as Andrew has (once again) put together an album made up of lots of little masterpieces. Each track stands on its own and within each song, each moment seems to do the same. But taken together... mmmm. Be sure to get your hands on the companion "just messin' around" Useless Creatures release: instrumental forays from a self-admitted instrumental hater. Good stuff.
Neko Case -- Middle Cyclone
With this album, Case has evolved into her own entity: untethered to another band or musicians, disassociated with any genre or type. Haunting voice, unique point of view, wonderful songs from top to bottom.
The Flaming Lips -- Embryonic
For Wayne Coyne, going into cruise control would seem to be so easy and yet, at the same time, utterly impossible. It's not like they've zigged when you thought they'd zag, but rather that in some manifestation of the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle, once you've tried to pin them down and get a good look at the Flaming Lips, you've lose total track of how fast and in what direction they were heading. This is a psychedelic epic, hard edged and yet totally accessible -- on the scale of "Yoshimi."
Bela Fleck -- Throw Down Your Heart
The synopsis of this story is: Bela Fleck goes to Africa and makes music with everyone he meets. What could be bad? Once again, Fleck rises above. What is banjo music? What is music? Seems like these are the questions Bela is always trying to answer, but never before in such a fundamental way. Mixing old and new, western and African, traditional instruments with their forebears as well as voices and smiles that shine right through the stereo, Bela Fleck has done it again.
Heartless Bastards -- The Mountain
Looking at this list, it seems like maybe I forgot how much I love the f'in rock and roll. Well, I'm not sure anyone rocks harder and with higher fidelity than the Heartless Bastards. The ingredients are few: guitar, drums, bass and the baddest female rock vocals you'll ever heard. They are mixed together at just the right proportions and poured into some kick ass songs right to level. The title tracks may be my favorite song of the year.
Portugal. The Man -- The Satanic Satanist
I couldn't have written all this and not had PTM on this list. In the studio, the songs that trip the light fantastic live reveal themselves for the well-crafted gems that they are. Just as powerful through the headphones as blared through the loudspeaker, just as penetrating acoustic and quiet as they are loud and electric. Pull them out track by track and dig deeper, or play the whole thing and let yourself go. And don't sleep on the psychedelic packaging which only enhances the listening experience.
Dave Rawlings Machine -- A Friend of a Friend
This is the machine that drives Gillian Welch, now out front with his own thing. This release is one of those perfectly formed pieces of Americana with fantastic covers, heartfelt originals, plenty of tasty guitar picking and the most genuine pair of voices you can find.
Charles Spearin -- The Happiness Project
In 8 tracks Spearin (of Do Make Say Think) has reinvented, for me, what music, sound, speech, love and happiness. You can learn about the Happiness Project here, but in a nutshell, Spearin went out and recorded people talking, nominally about "happiness." Taking snippets of these recordings or large swaths of speech, he wove a tapestry of music, pulling meaning not just out of the words but the way that they are spoken, finding music in the syntax and beyond. The result has given me the chills, literally, every single time I've listened to the album... which has been plenty - I think I had it on repeat for about a week straight when I first got it. My description does it no justice, if you buy one CD this year, let this one be it.
Wilco -- Wilco (The Album)
Yeah, this is kind of a surprise to me, too. But it shouldn't be. Is there a band out there that consistently comes out with new great music so regularly for so long? Maybe Radiohead? Here Tweedy and Co. are evolving only slightly from their former selves, slowly integrating Nels Cline into the sound more and more, but remaining true to the Wilco sound.
(11-20 alphabetical)
Black Joe Lewis -- Tell 'Em What Your Name Is!
The Decemberists -- The Hazards of Love
Do Make Say Think -- Other Truths
Medeski, Martin & Wood -- Radiolarians III
Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band -- s/t
Elvis Perkins -- In Dearland
Phoenix -- Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix
Thao and the Get Down Stay Down -- Know Better Learn Faster
Various -- Dark Was the Night compilation
John Zorn (Cohen/Perowsky/Burger) -- Alhambra Love Songs
(21-30)
The Black Hollies -- Softly Toward The Light
The Dead Weather -- Horehound
Doves -- Kingdom of Rust
Iron & Wine -- Around the Well
Grizzly Bear -- Veckatimest
Norah Jones -- The Fall
Jorma Kaukonen -- River of Time
Medeski, Martin & Wood -- Radiolarians II
Wolfmother -- Cosmic Egg
John Zorn -- Filmworks XXIII - El General
(31-40)
Air -- Love 2
The Avett Brothers -- I and Love and You
Andrew Bird -- Useless Creatures
The Clientele -- Bonfires on the Heath
Dirty Projectors -- Bitte Orca
Lisa Hannigan -- Sea Sew
The Phenomenal Handclap Band -- s/t
Jonah Smith -- Lights On
White Denim -- Fits
John Zorn -- O'o
(41-50)
Akron/Family -- Set 'Em Wild, Set 'Em Free
The Bakerton Group -- El Rojo
Derek Trucks Band -- Already Free
The Fiery Furnaces -- I'm Going Away
Hopewell -- Good Good Desperation
Masada Quintet -- Stolas
Elvis Perkins -- Doomsday EP
Rashanim -- The Gathering
Tortoise -- Beacons of Ancestorship
The Wooden Birds -- Magnolia
(51-60)
Apostle of Hustle -- Eats Darkness
Califone -- All My Friends Are Funeral Singers
Eels -- Hombre Loco
Feldman/Caine/Cohen/Baron -- Secrets
Bill Frisell -- Disfarmer
Patterson Hood -- Murdering Oscar
Marissa Nadler -- Little Hells
Roman Candle -- Oh Tall Tree in the Ear
St. Vincent -- Actor
Southeast Engine -- From the Forest to the Sea
Get in touch w/ your email if you're interested in links/track listings for my recently posted favorites of the 2000's mixes.
updated 1/3/2010:
Kid-free this week, so got to see a couple movies. Updated list (original below):
More than you need to know... of course, there are plenty I haven't seen, particularly in the last year.
In Super Bowl numbers, X means 10; sometimes it means "prohibited," but on a pirate's map, X is where the treasure is buried and mighty fine booty is what you're gonna find at Freaks Ball X. In 10 years of Freak Ballin' it, we've always tried to balance great party with great music, big-time kick-ass national acts with local up-and-comers and old friends-of-Freaks favorites.
For the big 10th anniversary, we've pulled out the stops and got it all...
Freaks Ball X
X Marks the Spot
January 23, 2010
Sullivan Hall - NYC, USA
Doors at 8:30
Music at 9:00
Featuring:
Anders Osborne from NOLA (2 sets)
The Black Hollies from NYC/NJ
3rd act to-be-announced
Tickets: $27 ($30 d.o.s.)
Onsale now at Ticketweb or with no service fees at Sullivan Hall on any night they're open for a show.
Freaks Ball X on Facebook
* I don't think Anders Osborne needs any introduction to you Freaks.
Whether in NOLA or NYC, the man can flat out wail and the party can
never be far behind. His last Sullivan Hall show is quickly becoming
the stuff of legend (see some of it here, starts around 8mins in), and no doubt his next will be much of the same.
I hope you're psyched, because this will be a Freaks Ball for the
ages.
* I've been wanting to check out the Black Hollies for a while now and
earlier this year I finally got my chance and I do not exaggerate when
I say they blew me away. Old school, psychedelic garage rock music --
the kind your grandparents rolled joints to. It's a total magic
carpet ride with fuzzy guitars and possibly the best drummer you've
never seen.
* We're still ironing out a couple details on the third act, but
didn't want to wait to get this officially announced and on sale.
Never fear, it'll be plenty more of the awesome friend-of-Freak rock
you've come to expect from the Freaks Ball.
So come early, stay late... stay until late becomes early again. Get
your peg legs and eye patches at the ready and let's celebrate 10
years of being freaky.
Spread the word, see you there.
There will be reminders.
Enjoy some vids:
I no longer post links for my weekly mixes here, but if you're interested in getting them in your email, please drop me a line.
More quantifying the unquantifiable to come...
OK, here's one of my more ridiculous lists yet... this is a somewhat arbitrary snapshot of what I'd consider my favorite albums from the last decade. A bit all over the place and if I sat down and listened to all of them right now, the list would probably change drastically. So take it for what it's worth.
Still a fun exercise.
Presented without further comment:
This year I was lucky to get turned on to a lot of new music. A lot! Both live -- I saw over 180 different bands this year and more than 40% of them were musicians I had never heard or seen before -- as well as on CD from great recs from friends and the web. And most of it was really great. So, I'm passing these on as recommendations to you.
Some of these have been around for a while and are just new to me, or stuff I was aware of and finally got to check out this year. I've marked each with "l" for a band I've seen/rec live and/or "cd" for studio stuff worth checking out. The lack of one or the other most likely means I just haven't gotten around to it yet. Links provided to any reviews, etc. written during the year, otherwise it's up to you and Google to find out more, it's worth it, I assure you.
Without further ado, my favorite "finds" of 2009 in some sort of order. Should be something for everyone in there...
Picking up where I left off with my artists of the decade list...
By all metrics, it would make sense that my personal band of 2009 was Phish. I mean, in case you haven't heard, Phish is back. I saw them 12 times in 5 different states with the results ranging from impressive to downright, flabbergastingly good. And yet, and yet... there was another band who blew me away with virtually every note I saw them play, released an album that is truly one of the best of the year (in my opinion) and, were you to ask me to choose between seeing them and the big PH tonight, I would probably have to choose them.
That band is Portugal. The Man.
At Bonnaroo this past June I saw a crapload of music, almost all of it amazing, but nothing touched me like PTM. And to think, maybe I wouldn't have seen them at all, amazing how fickle fate can be. I was in one of the tents checking out Hockey who had come very highly recommended. They were good, not mind-blowing, but I could see what the big fans saw in them. Fortunately, in these situations I get a bad case of festival ADD and found myself twitching to see what else was afoot. I crossed the grounds and made it to the other big tent halfway through the opening song for PTM.
It took less than a minute before I was utterly floored. Another reason to love Twitter, I can go back and pinpoint the moment:
June 11, 8:57: "Portugal The Man = some heavy, proggy shit. Awesome. Wish I was closer.
June 11, 9:17: "Holy shit! Just wow!I think Portugal The Man is my new favorite band. Like My Morning Jacket crossed with Trespass-era Genesis (but better)"
Quick judgments aren't the best, but after 4 more PTM sets in the ensuing months, including an acoustic afternoon set the next afternoon in Tennessee and a two-river jaunt to Hoboken, I still do declare that they are my new favorite band. These guys are deep in my wheelhouse: extended, rocking explorative rock and roll (think 21st century Pink Floyd/old Genesis) crossed a Motown falsetto-heavy soulfulness and songwriting that stands tall both as arena rock and quiet acoustic gem.
These guys have dumped out an album a year for the last couple and their newest, 2009 release: The Satanic Satanist is probably the best of all of 'em and evidence that the best for these guys is probably ahead of them. The track "People Say" has got to be one of the best songs of the year and will dig a hole in your brain and burrow down for a couple weeks requiring repeated listens and lots of shampoo shower serenading. A warning: don't just download the album or a few tracks, buy the CD itself, the actual thing. The physical packaging is a stunning, confounding trippy tangle of paper and artwork that only enhances the listening experience.
I have but only a couple regrets -- 1) that no one had once mentioned the existence of this band to me beforehand. I can't imagine a better fit for my musical tastes and going to shows with 250 people already deeply in tune with the material was a bit distressing to me who considers himself an early adopter. I even went back and searched 3+ years of GMail archives -- not a mention. How did this slip past my radar? What else am I missing? Don't hold back on me, people! 2) that even with getting in 5 Portugal. The Man shows this year, I still ended up missing 2 or 3 area shows due to those darned circumstances.
C'est la vie. Last year's artist was Apollo Sunshine who rubbed me the right way all up and down 2008. Sadly, they disappeared in 09 completely -- totally off the map. So, my one wish for 2010 is that the same doesn't happen with Portugal. The Man.
A few links:
So, now it's December -- time to start looking back. This year's a bit different as it's also the last month of the decade. The rest of the month I'll be sprinkling a couple year-end and decade-end lists on the ole blog. As always, these only reflect my personal opinion or experience, nothing more, nothing less.
First up, I'm anointing my own personal "artist of the year" for each year in the decade. Last year was the first year I actually picked one, but fun to go back and see who was making it happen for me over the course of each year.
Hey all. Gonna soon be getting into some year-end/decade-end recapping.
For now, I'd like to give you some links to all the reviews I've done for Bowery Presents House List in the past 8 months or so.
Enjoy:
OK, so this past weekend has proven to be harder to shake off than most. I could never do it justice with a review and besides, anyone that cares has already seen, heard and read everything there is to read about it. So, I'll spare you the gory details. Let's just say that 10/31/09 was one of the best Phish shows I've seen, but really, that goes without saying. When I think of my favorite Phish shows, I need to place the Halloweens in a different category. Phish on Halloween is really one of my favorite things about Phish period. Without those shows, the magic would be a little less for me. If I had to list my top things about the band, the Halloween shows would be the first on that list.
I consider myself very fortunate to have been at all 5 Halloween "album" shows, which hopefully gives me some unique perspective on the shenanigans that seem to take place on 10/31 (haven't yet met anyone who's been at all 5 -- were you?). Time will tell (I haven't listened to any Indio yet), but my gut reaction was that it's a close call, but that the Remain in Light set maybe gets the edge in terms of my all-time fave, but it's definitely 1-2 between Talking Heads and the Stones and then the rest of them. Of course, the music is one thing, but taken together, nothing will beat the weekend I had.
You know my love for lists and favorites, so here we go:
Favorite Halloween Album Set:
Bear with me... even more rambling stream of memory than usual...
OK, with the anticipation for Phishâs return to the Halloween stage at the proverbial fever pitch, Iâm drawn back 15 years to probably the craziest show anticipation Iâve witnessed in my years of seeing Phish⊠well, maybe up until the moments the lights went down in Hampton this past March. Of course, perhaps nothing beats whatâs been going on since that flash animation map appeared on phish.com what seems like ages ago. We may very well be watching the greatest manipulation of a massive populationâs emotional state by small number of powerful individuals outside of North Korea. The slow burn release of information via official and unofficial, online and offline means has been nothing short of remarkable. I joked to someone recently that the ârefreshâ button was invented for Phish. Itâs been crazy.
15 years ago, the information came (to me at least) via telephone. No, people, the phone was not rotary, and I do believe it was cordless, but it was the old Alex Graham Bell for me. Calls into the Phish headquarters were regularly scheduled and 99 times out of 100 it was the same repeat message from last time⊠until finally that 100th call (by now knowing from the immediate first note of Shellyâs voice whether it was the same old message) itâs new dates! It was some time in the middle of the summer of 1994, I remember it clearly: October 31st, Phish returns to the Halloween stage, stay tuned to the end of the message for more details. And then I listened to said details. Then I called back again to make sure I got it right. Then once again to get the ticket info. Then once more just to make sure. Once more. Once more. wait, theyâre gonna do WHAT!?!?! WHERE!?!?! WHEN!?!!? What is common knowledge now, came as a shock to the system: the band announced they were donning a âmusical costume,â playing 3 sets with the first one starting at 10 pm. TEN?? Ooooeeee! The information entered my system like a a drug: an immediate hit dazing my senses and then the slow seep as I realized all the ramifications. When I was growing up, my grandparents lived in Glens Falls and we made many a many drive from Syracuse to there. The words âGlens Fallsâ had certain connotations to me: trips to âStorytownâ amusement park in Lake George, homemade brisket and bowls of chocolate pudding and all that other good stuff that comes with visiting your grandparents when youâre a little kid. When I hung up the phone for the umpteenth time, those memories were now runners-up to the new memories. Not even to the memories I knew would come from the memorable evening, but just to the anticipation of making those memories. It was the middle of the summer and I was mentally flipping the calendar over in my mind. Anxiety set in. Back then, there wasnât any âhere are the dates, mail order is underwayâ attachment to a tour announcement. No, there was the initial phone message â the moment where you felt like you were in on a secret, no matter how long â then there was the newsletter (still just the Phish newsletter in July of 94), then there was the on-sale, a month or two later, THEN you started waiting for the show day. All this and I was already, within moments of hearing the words âgeneral admissionâ leave the receiver, worrying about getting up front. How could I make it go faster? Problem was you couldnât. It was hurry up and wait in the worst possible way.
School had started back up before tickets went on sale; I remember clearly the pacing in my apartment in Somerville, dialing, dialing again, hoping, hoping. Iâm getting incredibly anxious just remembering about it right now. Getting tickets didnât seem to be an issue; I remember the stress of wanting to have GA tix in my hands. Finally, got through â tickets confirmed, in my name, reserved, in the seats. Quick call from The Big Squeeze: she got âem, on the floor. Plus we now had extras in hand. Excellent. So far, so good.
Now it was just waiting. It feels like nearly every college friend I had went to that show. Of course, all of the obsessive, geeked-out die-hards that I spent my days with discussing the finer points of the 4/18/92 soundboard quality and whatnot were on board, but there was enough interest and enough of a party to draw out some of the merely âfansâ and merely curious. It would be my house-mateâs first Phish show. He spent many hours lovingly crafting a pretty sweet Jimi Hendrix costume with a homemade jigsawed Fender strat taboot. I planned on a makeshift Big Black Furry Creature from Mars costume, with face paint and some old-school deedly-boppers and a t-shirt I had made at the mall that said âWhy Am I Running?â on it. It was an awful costume, but it was better than nothing.
Of course, there was plenty of discussion about what theyâd play. Unlike the next year when I sent in countless postcards (recalled here), I played no active part in the process, just speculated. It seemed to everyone that the choice was clearly between âPhysical Graffitiâ or âThe White Album,â but frankly we didnât really know and there wasnât enough of that internet-trickle of information to me that I felt I had an inkling of what was going to go down. In fact, at that moment, the band was advertising that âat some point during the nightâ they would play the album set, maybe it would be scattered throughout the night, maybe it would be the last set, maybe the first, maybe they wouldnât even play a whole album, but just pieces. Frankly, it was completely up in the air â no precedent whatsoever. Only one person seemed confident â they are definitely playing âThe White Albumâ he said, a week or two before the show. I didnât question his sources. I could only wait.
Finally, it was October 31, 1994. With all the memories jumbled in my head, I cannot recall how I got to the show. All I know is that I got there early. There were plenty of cars leaving from my neck of the woods, Iâm almost certain I figured out which was leaving first and hopped in that one. I had a big box of Butterfinger candy bars to hand out in the parking lot cause what's Halloween without some freakin' candy, right?, a ticket in my hand (not to mention one for a friend) and a fidget that just wouldnât quit. The weather was miserable, absolutely awful: cold and rainy, alternating between a steady pour and a fine, cold mist. Upon arrival in Glens Falls, there were already fingers in the air. It was an arena, but a small one. The energy in those milling about was unlike any I had witnessed in dozens of Phish shows up to that point. There was a feeling that this was the Phish show, this was the one. People who had tickets were giddy and gassed, just hoping their adrenaline would hold out until 10pm and beyond. Those that didnât just had to get in. One way or another they were getting in through that door. Then it got dark⊠the hour grows closer.
Unfortunately, this was the pre-cellular days when you couldnât just text a meet-up time with your chums and nobody ever got lost or left behind. I had my buddyâs ticket. My buddy was nowhere to be seen. The doors were opening soon, and I was already gonna have to do some wrangling to get myself on the rail. Finally, I had to make the choice, I ditched my remaining Butterfingers and unloaded my ticket to a guy I knew and knew had to be in there as badly as I did. I still remember his face, dripping sadness and then⊠the proverbial frown-upside-down moment. I saw that dude many years later at a Duo/Gordon show⊠I remembered giving him my extra, he did not. Oh wellâŠ
Then the doors were opened and we were inside. Not just inside but on the rail. Maybe not dead center, but a touch to the left of Trey. It was the spot nonetheless. It was me, and my brother (with more Fluffhead cotton balls stuck to his head than is recommended) and The Big Squeeze and a bunch of others. It couldnât have been better. Now⊠more waiting. Waiting and waiting and waiting. I remember the look on my buddyâs face when someone criticized his awesome costume saying âHendrix is not a Phish songâ â ah, pity the poor fools. That was an awesome Jimi costume, donât let no one tell you different. Probably about 9:45 or so something happened. Something just clicked in the crowd and all of the sudden everyone went crazy. What happened, I found out later, was that a bunch of people found a way to break in through the roof of the venue â people were pouring into the arena and the people inside started pouring onto the floor. It was like a cascade of Phish-ravenous flesh pouring down. There was at least one guy hanging from a banner in the rafters before falling into the seats. People were going nuts, absolutely NUTS! Like I said, the only thing even close to that was the moments before Fluffhead in Hampton. I learned at a show later that week that the fans had done tens of thousands of dollars of damage to the roof and that, so they said, rock shows would no longer be allowed at the Glens Falls Civic Center. I have no idea if that was upheld or not.
I donât remember exactly when the band stared that night. It wasnât 10, I assure you of that⊠probably closer to 11. Crazy. Thankfully I was young and dumb and full of energy. When the lights finally did go down, it was an explosion of noise from the crowd. Trey wearing a weirdo Fluffhead(?) mask as the band launched into Frankenstein. My lord, that was amazing! What crazy energy. Best ever?
I wonât go into the usual blow-by-blow of the whole show musically. Hopefully youâve heard it before. Needless to say it was pretty amazing from the get-go. Folks may argue that it was the best Reba ever, and I wouldnât argue back. The Harpua with the Vibration of Death set the tone for the rest of the night, with the wicked War Pigs vamp. While everyoneâs sitting around and wondering what album theyâre going to play, the band is going off playing an utterly electric set of classic Phish. Finally, set break and the anticipation builds. Either it was the longest set break Iâve ever sat through or it just felt that way. There may be no words to describe the buzz that built in that room during those minutes, those agonizing minutes. And at that point, itâs almost the worst part of the whole ordeal, isnât it? All those months â literally months â of build up, all about to come crashing down in a single moment.: could the orgasm possibly match the foreplay? (will it this time?).
I will never forget that introduction⊠first some noise: what is that? Pink Floyd? I wasnât ready for that, for whatever reason. Then the voice of Ed Sullivan introducing the Beatles and the mindfuck is almost over⊠the crowd in the Ed Sullivan Theater starts screaming and then the crowd in the Glens Falls Civic Center starts screaming and itâs loud. I mean really loud. And then, there they were, on stage, playing the Beatles, all two LPâs of the White Album, well pretty much all of it. In most ways it was glorious and after it started it was almost like they were predestined to play it, although the further we get from the night, the less convinced I am of that sentiment. So much of it totally kicked ass, the âCry Baby Cryâ may be one of my favorite things the band has done ever. Other times, they felt over-rehearsed, too rushed or not into it enough. It's just a lot of music there. About halfway through, the crowd seemed to split in two: one part (maybe it was half?) completely lost themselves to the music, threw all they had into it and lapped up everything the band served them; the second part lost some interest, large chunks of the audience sitting down where they stood, certainly enjoying it, but not feeling the party they had hoped for. I, for one, loved every minute of it. Knew the album front and back and was continually astounded at how well they were pulling it off. There werenât as many âPhishâ moments as you might have guessed going in, mostly a straight reading, but there were enough in there to keep it fun and interesting. I loved the Brad Sands birthday cake with Brad wearing a Fishman dress. I loved the chance Trey got during While My Guitar Gently Weeps. I loved it when Mike got to sing or Fish sang out âWhy Donât We Do It in the Road.â I loved it all.
Then as the album wound down and we had that glory of all glory readings of âCry Baby Cryâ it occurred to me â not until they actually got to the moment â my goodness, theyâve got Revolution 9 to play. WTF is that going to be like? It was a pure Phish moment, weird looping samples over the PA, vacuum, chanting, etc. Iâll never forget the first time I heard that âsongâ when I was a kid, playing with a friend and hearing this noise coming from the stereo and I giving my father a 7-year-oldâs version of âum, dad, what the hell are you listening to?!?â look. So, having known Number 9 for 10+ years should have prepared me for Phishâs version, right? Well, not exactly. There are moments when it is awesome to be in the front row of a Phish show â these moments total every single possible moment except one. Unfortunately, I was up front for that one: when Jon Fishman lifted his dress (âwe become nakedâ) and started prancing around the stage with nothing â absolutely nothing â on his body. On the rail took on a whole new meeting as DeWittâs own pranced and danced in his birthday suit. Oh, how I will never forget. Afterward, people thought he wasnât really naked, but I cleared that up for them real quick.
And then it was over. The crowd stood stunned. By the music, the absolutely amazing feat the band had just pulled off almost flawlessly and by what the drummer of said band just pulled off, literally. Brad Sands returned to the stage to assure everyone they were coming back for one more set. If I had a watch on, certainly I looked down at it then. One more set?? It was Monday morning!!
By the time the 3rd set began, it was well after 1am. But that didnât slow these guys down. Now, the crowd was holding on for dear life -- it's one thing to make it through a tour de force set in exhaustion, quite another to make it through a set break -- but the boys didnât have to drive after the show and not too far to go to their home base pillows at that and so they brought it hard for Set number 3. David Bowie opener, a killer Slave, Sleeping Monkey. I will never forget that moment, it was probably about 2:30 in the morning, when they started Run Like An Antelope. A good portion of the audience had left, many more were sitting down or fading fast, barely moving, their costumes disheveled, their minds swept clean of sanity, and yet the band hadnât a care about any of that â they just started up their highest energy, fastest tempo, balls-to-the-walls song⊠that song thatâs about running⊠like an antelope⊠out of control... at almost 3 in the morning. I mustered up as much energy as I could to get my dance on but not before screaming at the stage as loud as I could: âAre you fucking crazy!?!?!â
And yet, they still werenât done. A funked-up costume contest and a too-long Squirming Coil (quite possibly the worst song to send you on the road at 3am??) finished the night. Absotively outta sight! Somehow I worked it out with my parents that I'd wrangle the car from my brother (how did he get home after that show?) and made my girlfriend drive back to Boston (you can see why she married me, right?). I donât think Iâve ever been that tired after a concert before, just left it all there in Glens Falls. I convinced myself that I could do the show without missing a class and sure enough, I made it there in time. Why I insisted on going is beyond me. A couple months later I went back to study for an exam and saw some sick-ass doodles on the side of the notebook from that day -- one sticks out, a coarse stick-figure with a guitar with "TREY!" written in block letters under it. Hey, at least I was awake!
4 years later, I (re-)met a guy at a show out west and were discussing that show and discovered we were standing next to each other â âyou were the guy who yelled âAre you fucking crazy!?â when they started up Antelope!!â Yes, they were crazy: totally out of their minds. And we were nuts for following them like we did and for obsessing for 100+ days about a frickinâ concert. But here we are, 15 years later and still doing the same. Look for me there; Iâll be the one wearing the 15-year-old, only-worn-4-times, t-shirt that says âWhy Am I Running?â on it. Just like I always do.
So, 15 years ago this week, Phish started up their 1994 fall tour which would sandwich around the historic 10/31/1994 they're-playing-the-freakin'-White-Album! show. Truly one of the crazier concerts I've been to, from the months of build up to the actual execution. And now that the anticipation is building with frantic refreshes of the Phish Halloween roulette and wild speculation for the 15th anniversary Halloween show, circled in bright red sharpie on my proverbial calendar, I thought it might be time to start looking back on this long-dormant blog (also noting the fact that no one would read this unless I wrote about Phish, anyway).
I'll get to the goods later on in the month (or not), but for now let's dial it back to the first week of October and the lesson that even as the band was approaching its peak, there was plenty of mediocrity to be had in mediocre places gotten to by unmemorable road trips and encounters.
The first show of the tour was on the campus of Lehigh in Bethlehem, PA. Does that sound like the kind of place you want to start a massive two-legged fall tour? Well, that's where we found ourselves on a brisk fall evening. 15 years later and the music that was this middling show have pretty much washed into a memory or two. I got in early hoping to hop down onto the GA floor even though I didn't have the requisite bracelet to be down there. Things were loose enough early on when I got there so I waltzed up front (certainly ditching the not-yet-Mrs. and my ride in the process, although that part is even hazier) and started chatting it up with a fellow geekoid. Turns out minutes before I got down there, Tom Marshall was milling about, talking about this great new song they'd be debuting. The guy had written down the name of the song as best he could, "Guite" I believe is what he had scrawled -- "about a pig" he said. I thought maybe he was pulling my leg, but whatevs.
The show started up and the floor was a strange mix of drunken anarchy and gestapo security trying to clear out those that didn't belong (i.e. me and my ilk). I stayed down up front long as I could, slightly overwhelmed by the frantic crowd and the muddy sound. Oy, that sound! Has to be down there on the list of all time worst sounding Phish shows I've been to. Like I said, the music was pretty middle-of-the-road, certainly a typical 1st show of the tour, getting ready for the road kind of night.
Certainly the only thing memorable was when they did, indeed, pull out a new tune late in the first set. Daggone it, Tom Marshall was correct. Unfortunately, it wasn't clear that the band was ready to pull this one out of the oven yet. The thing was rough, the band all searching each other out with each measure. The awful sound in the room did nothing to improve matters. In all honesty, at the time I had no idea whether the song was any good or not. I do remember it totally sucked all the energy out of the room... for a good 12 minutes, the Lehigh partiers and the Phish geeks got a tranquilizer dart of brand new, untested prog rock. Listening back, it doesn't quite sound as bad as I remember it -- I think the utter newness of a song of this type threw me (and everyone) for a loop. I think my general feeling after Trey said "you're the first people to ever hear that song" (can never beat that!) was "can't wait to hear that one again."
The second first-show-of-the-tour bustout came in the encore (I really have no memories good or bad of anything else). The band came back out front in "acoustic" mode and in a move that almost exactly mirrored the first time they played "Freebird" in the summer of 1993. Instead of an a capella version of a southern rock radio classic, they instead did a down-home bluegrass version of New England classic: Boston's Foreplay/Long Time. It was one of those "what is this, I know this" moments, as bit by bit the crowd became hip to what they were doing. Absotively brilliant in concept, if not execution.
I spent the night on a ratty couch in my buddy's high school buddy's apartment and woke up to an even rattier, bizarre pug-like pooch licking my face.
The next day was a new day and instead of doing the wise thing and heading back Boston-way on a Saturday, we continued away from home base down to Virginia... Fairfax, VA to be precise. The crowd for this show was a really weird mix. Turns out the Grateful Dead had been in Philly on the 7th and were playing the 9-11th in Landover, MD. The night Phish was playing in Fairfax -- the 8th -- was the Dead's off day and a healthy number of Deadheads decided to check out what these Phish fellas were all about. I believe this is the first major crossover between the fan bases (but of course, I could be wrong).
The show was no GA, but I managed my way up front with a whole slew of other people and for a while before the show, it appeared we'd have no problem hanging out there. But then the lights went down, the band came on stage, Chalkdust started and the security guard came through checking tickets. I pushed myself into a possibly empty seat in the front row and hoped I looked like I belonged there when the guard passed. To my relief, it worked -- in fact, the guard cleared everyone out except for me -- how long would that last? As Chalkdust finished and Horn started, the guy next to me leans over and tells me that his friend couldn't make the show, that no one is sitting in that seat and that it's mine, no problem. What luck! Basically, I had the seat directly front row center, not a soul in front of me (and a place to sit @ setbreak). Back then, I was apparently flowing in Phish front row karma...
Like I said, the crowd was weird, and the energy dampened the otherwise solid show. Things already seemed much crisper than the previous night -- better sound, a more cohesive, jammy spirit from the band. But the room was bigger than it was in Lehigh and although it was filled, the setting felt a bit sterile. Still, the show was good -- average, but good. When they got to Guyute, I was feeling "do over!" in my mind and I was right... it took but one more try, but they nailed it and hooked me -- I got it. Seeing the debut of a tune is great, seeing the first two or three times can be a real treat for the fanboy.
I will never forget the conversation I had at setbreak. The guy who lent me his seat for the night started chatting about the Halloween show. Seemed like he only had half a picture of what they were doing, like a game of telephone, talking about playing one side of an album and a bunch of other nonsense. Finally he says he'll let me in on a little secret -- he knows for a fact (you see he knows a guy that knows a guy) that they're going to be playing the first side of The Grateful Dead's Europe '72 on Halloween that month. I still get a chuckle out of remembering the look in his eye when he was blathering on. Classic.
The second set was a blazer. Maybe a little more sizzling on paper than it was in reality -- everything was clean, well-played and high-energy, but nothing really launched to the next level. It had its moments, of course -- it was a Phish show in the 90's, fer crissakes. Of course, the most bizarre thing was during Mike's Song. Those were the days of thick clouds of smoke billowing from the stage and trampolines during Mike's Song which always lent the jamming a crazed, heavy metal, loud-as-fuck feeling. Then there were nights when things got even crazier and louder (for better or worse). This was one of those nights. As the smoke is still swirling around the stage and Mike's wound done, a bunch of figures start moving onto the stage, a whole slew of what started to become clear were little girls, maybe 10-12 years old, dressed in some sort of uniform. Then the band quiets to a stop and these girls start screaming these cheers, really loudly. Is there anything less musical than 15-20 10-year-old girls screaming at the top of their lungs? Maybe, but wow! There it was: perfectly pointless and bizarre, but perfectly Phish all the same. Then they were gone and the band went into Simple -- my first time hearing that one, check-mark. I heard later that the band was awoken by these girls screaming at their hotel -- in town for some soccer game/tournament -- and they were impressed by the volume and invited them to come to the show. Strange but true.
Back then I was a Harry Hood chaser in the worst way. A good show became a great show if they played Hood and even a middle-of-the-road offering would score in the win column if I got that wish. Needless to say, I was tickled when they started the song. My memory of the moment is clear as it seemed at this moment that everyone in the crowd seemed to completely deflate -- there would be no Dark Star this evening. I had been tentative about moving from my seat all the way to the front of the stage fearing the security would wrangle me out of there, but at that moment, the show almost over, I had little to lose and so I moved up a few steps and put my hands on the rail. At that moment, everyone else was behind me and for 12 minutes, it felt like just me, the band and Harry Hood. It was moments like those that made ill-construed weekend jaunts to places like Bethlehem, PA and Fairfax, VA worth every stinky dog lick in the face. The next day it was back to Boston and two weeks of waiting until we got back into the car and headed to another one of those what-the-hell-are-we-doing-in-Glens-Falls kind of places. But that'll be another too-long blog post.
Thanks for reading...
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