minimix: ...but does it jam 2001 (part 2)

Part 2. New music in the not-jam/neo-prog/psych-rock non-genre.

Enjoy!

Spotify
Rhapsody

01 Another Sky -- Akron/Family
02 Anniversary Day -- Chris Forsyth
03 The Moonlight Butterfly -- The Sea and Cake
04 Cracker Wrist -- Bardo Pond
05 Tomboy -- Panda Bear
06 The Honest Ocean -- Yellowbirds

(Rhapsody only (not available on Spotify): 07 Future Primitive -- Grails)

the minimix returns! (...but does it jam? 2011)

OK, I'm going to try and bring back the weekly minimix, but this time I'm just doing Spotify/Rhapsody playlist links, so it's easy for me and you and 100% legit.

Following up on some online conversation about what it means to be a "jamband" and the current psych/indie/neo-prog bands and whether we should be calling it "jam" again. This week's is the first look at some new music that may or may not fit into that category. I'll have another similar batch next week.

Enjoy!

Spotify link
Rhapsody link

01 It's Him! -- White Denim
02 Ice Cream -- Battles
03 Lemonade -- Braids
04 Tulip -- Here We Go Magic
05 White Out -- Woods
06 Thought Ballune -- Unknown Mortal Orchestra

(let me know if you have any issues with the links)

Addendum

A few more thoughts on the nostalgia post that I should have/meant to include:

• Just to be clear, I'm not down on anything the band is doing now in any way shape or form. In fact, I'm pretty thrilled with all of it. The post was more a response to the discussions & arguments swirling around on Twitter, etc. My point is: the band is great now, the band was great "then" (whenever that may be), it's OK to wish for it to be like the past, it's OK to make signs and long for long jams and bustouts and all, and it's equally OK to argue against signs and the longing, etc.... it's always been that way and it always will... it's (a BIG) part of what makes it great. Excuse the inelegant paraphrasing.
• Another part of the impetus for the post was seeing the movie "Midnight in Paris" (spoiler alert) which centers around a guy visiting Paris longing for an era long gone, long before his time. And then he gets to essentially go back in time and it's as good as he'd hoped, but there's someone there that's nostalgic for an even earlier era and he's dumbfounded -- THIS is the best time to live in!! And so on and so forth. It struck me as very analogous. It's all about where you are now and when you came in and what looks like "new" to you and what looks like "nostalgia." My brother was talking about new songs played during a set at Watkins Glen and said something about "Ghost" and I was like, um, they've been playing that song for 15 years!
• Point being: at my first show (in 1992) on the way out a guy was talking about "the days" when Phish played his dorm with an "alas! they've gotten so big!" tone. It's always been that way.
• Poing being: I'm kinda nuts but it's always been that way.

The Ultimate Nostalgia Act

So, since Phish has come back I've heard a lot of people adamantly say that they are NOT a nostalgia act. While I agree they are not a tribute band nor are they the Eagles, I mostly disagree, I think they are absolutely a nostalgia act. I also think that maybe they almost always have been. I also mostly think this is a great thing and the ultimate reason why we go so nuts for the band.

If you think about it, music in general is the ultimate memory vehicle. Songs evoke nostalgia like little else in this world. I don't think I need to give you examples on this. This is especially true for a band like Phish. Maybe for Phish like no other music. Listening to shows you went to, didn't go to, poring over setlists of the past, statistics, tracking bustouts, etc.... this is all a way of capturing each tidbit of music as a memory. Behind each asterisk on the setlist is a memory, a story. Everything that's happening in the now is considered not as its own individual piece of live music, but almost entirely in the context of what's come before it as seen through the lenses of our own experiences. This is nostalgia at its most crystalline. The crazy thing about Phish is that there are memories stacked upon memories. We compare versions of songs to other versions we heard only on recording, filtering our experiences through that first impression of an impression of something we are only experiencing secondhand. Regardless, except in rare instances, we cannot experience things as they are with Phish. We can only experience them through the memories of everything else we have experienced... and since we're all so f'ing nuts, that is hours and hours of listening and dissecting and writing and arguing and listening some more. Our experience is clouded by it all.

I remember in college how tapes would filter through our little Phish community. One guy with the DAT deck would get something particularly awesome and then it would distribute its way through the rest of us very quickly. In the end, we were all listening to the same thing at essentially the same time, creating new memories from the memories of the magnetic tape. Anyway, it became like one big shared knowledge base and totally affected how we listened to the music and saw the shows we saw. I remember when everyone got their hand on the Murat Theater show from 8/93, we must have listened to that Bathtub Gin a zillion times, it completely redefined what the song could do and blew us away every time we took another ride in the bathtub. We hadn't even been to the show and yet our entire outlook on the song had been completely rearranged from nice little set closer to a major jam vehicle. The next time most of us heard the song live was at 12/30/93 and a bunch of us were clustered around the front and when they started the opening riffs I remember everyone looking at each other like... here we go, just like at the Murat Theater! We were already nostalgic for something we hadn't even experienced ourselves. That version was decent, certainly the best I had heard up to that date live and in person, but didn't come close to that Indy version. We were, to be honest, a tad disappointed.

Disappointed! It didn't live up to the memory. The memory that wasn't even "ours" technically. You know exactly the feeling I'm talking about. It's nostalgia. Everything the band has ever done is part of the collective memory and infects and controls everything the band will ever do again. You cannot consider the present without the infection of nostalgia. This is not a bad thing. It's what makes Phish more than just a band, more like the most addictive thing you've ever experienced or done. It's constantly chasing the past as we forge on in time. The thing that makes it all so interesting/confounding/annoying is that we're all nostalgic for our own experiences. Some of us are yearning for 1999 and others 1989 and everything in between. People are clamoring for "more jams!!" or"more bustouts!!" or "longer jams!" or "go back to playing that the way you used to!" We are chasing memories that we'll never relive and it's a glorious thing. Most of what I've written in this blog is the result of such nostalgia, and it fuels the road trips and the stories and the countless other outlets for our craziness.

And it's ALWAYS been that way no matter how much you want to think otherwise. There's only a handful of truly in-the-moment experiences with Phish, the first time you heard the band or realized that songs could do certain things or the band had all-caps THAT in them. Every other time after that is nostalgia.

The other side of the coin of the great nostalgia trip that is Phish is the trip itself. The places they take us, the voyage in getting there, the anecdotes that become stories that become legends. Every song from every show happening in real time generating memories that bind us together in ways we've never dreamed.

Personally, I've gone far-flung with the band, but what's most fascinating to me is the crazy weirdo places in New York State that I've seen this band and how they've reflected this life of mine which has mostly been spent in New York State: Just a couple days ago was the 19th anniversary of the HORDE show at the New York State Fairgrounds in Syracuse. That was a nostalgic date on many levels. I've probably been to "the Fair" over twenty times in my life, it's a part of my past and present. That was also the first time I saw Widespread Panic which started a whole other musical "career" which was spent, in part, chasing that moment when I first heard and saw them, 100% new and fresh. That show was also an epic 24 hour day off from working at summer camp with a group of friends who I'm still very close with. We are constantly retelling jokes and anecdotes from those days and the amount of hilarity that ensued on that date is of epic proportions. This is what this band does to me in its nostalgic ways.

Vernon, Binghamton, Albany, Plattsburgh... if it was a dot on the weather map of my youth, chances are I've seen Phish play there... Glens Falls (where we visited my grandparents annually in my youth), Darien Lake (where my parents took me before they had big roller coasters and I wasn't big enough to ride 'em even if they were there), Syracuse Armory (the very room where my wife-to-be and I saw Phish play is where we had our rehearsal dinner several years later), and of course, Watkins Glen.

Last week I got to see Phish play in Watkins Glen on Seneca Lake. Just up the Route 14 on the lake was where I spent many summers as a camper and counselor. I'd spent many a day at Watkins Glen State Park, hiking the gorge, swimming in the massive pool there. Those summers were magical for me. Seeing Phish there with my wife, brother and sister was also pretty great. The fact that the first set was a nostalgic list of songs mostly from the early 90's was perfect. Each song was a trip down memory lane. Reba -- the first song I heard them play just a few miles away. Creature From Mars -- the Halloween t-shirt "costume" I've worn to every Halloween show. Mound -- the first Phish song I "hated," And on and on. It was all nostalgia and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Favorite Albums of the First Half 2011

So, usually I wait until the end of the year to slip into listmaking mode, but this year has been kinda unprecedented for me in terms of music. The past year I've gotten a Squeezebox, gotten an Android device and, most importantly, started a Rhapsody subscription. The three of these things together have fundamentally changed the way I listen to music, entirely for the better in unprecedented ways. I can't recommend this mode of attack for any music lover enough. Quite literally, I've listened to (and formed opinions on) over 200 albums released in 2011 already and going strong. So why wait until December to tell you what's what? This being the halfway point between January 1st and December 31st, let's do it...

Here's a vague view of my favorite albums of the year thus far... and there have been some killer ones. I'm listing my top 10, then the next 15, then the rest of my top 50. All three groups are in alphabetical order as I'm still getting a feel for a lot of these. I can definitely say that I highly recommend all of 'em. If I'm missing something, let me know and I'll check it out (or will politely avoid letting you know that your favorite wasn't one of mine...).

Enjoy!

First, here are my favorite EP's so far, which contain some of the best music I've heard so far this year, particularly the Junip & Sea and Cake:

Broken Bells -- Meyrin Fields (EP)

Carolina Chocolate Drops/Luminescent Orchestrii (EP)

Here We Go Magic -- The January (EP)

Junip -- In Every Direction (EP)

The Sea and Cake -- The Moonlight Butterfly (EP)

Also, there are some awesome live/archival albums that merit a mention, including: Bob Marley's Stanley Theater show, everything Phish has remastered and released this year (I'm partial to the Greek shows and 10/30/10), Bob Dylan @ Brandeis, Galactic, and certainly Brad Mehldau's amazing Live in Marciac.

Now the full-length studio albums...

The top 10 (in alphabetical order):
Danger Mouse -- Rome
The Decemberists - The King Is Dead
Fleet Foxes -- Helplessness Blues
The Head and the Heart -- The Head and the Heart
Iron & Wine -- Kiss Each Other Clean
Buddy Miller -- The Majestic Silver Strings
Smith Westerns -- Dye It Blonde
Gillian Welch -- The Harrow and the Harvest
White Denim - D
Yellowbirds -- The Color

The rest of the top 25 (in alphabetical order)
Bardo Pond -- Bardo Pond
Beastie Boys -- Hot Sauce Committee Part Two
Braids -- Native Speaker
The Dears -- Degeneration Street
Deerhoof -- Deerhoof vs. Evil
Brett Dennen -- Loverboy
Eulogies -- Tear the Fences Down
Grails -- Deep Politics
Holy Ghost -- Holy Ghost!
My Morning Jacket -- Circuital
Thao & Mirah -- s/t
Toro Y Moi -- Underneath the Pine
TuNe-YaRdS -- WHOKILL
TV On The Radio -- Nine Types of Light
Woods -- Sun and Shade

The rest of the top 50 (in alphabetical order)
Hayes Carll -- KMAG YOYO (& Other American Stories)
The Cave Singers -- No Witch
Death Cab For Cutie -- Codes and Keys
Alela Diane -- Alela Diane & the Wild Divide
The Dodos -- No Color
Elbow -- Build a Rocket Boys!
The Go! Team -- Rolling Blackouts
Sarah Jarosz -- Follow Me Down
Joan As Police Woman -- The Deep Field
Lia Ices -- Grown Unknown
Loch Lomond -- Little Me Will Start a Storm
Middle Brother -- Middle Brother
Mogwai -- Hardcore Will Never Die...
Nathan Moore -- Dear Puppeteer
Nostalgia 77 -- The Sleepwalking Society
Oh No Oh My -- People Problems
Gruff Rhys -- Hotel Shampoo
Bob Schneider -- A Perfect Day
Tapes ‘n Tapes -- Outside
Tea Leaf Green -- Radio Tragedy
Tedeschi Trucks Band -- Revelator
Tennis -- Cape Dory
Chris Thile & Michael Daves -- Sleep With One Eye Open
Vetiver -- The Errant Charm
John Zorn -- Nova Express

Nedstaglia: 20 Years Ago (in praise of the tastemakers)

I don’t know the exact date, but sometime during the last week of June in 1991, 20 years ago today roughly, I had a life changing experience. Now I’ve had plenty of life changing experiences – you could argue every experience you have changes your life in one way or the other. But I can look back at this specific one and say for sure that it laid the path for a lot of where the next 20 years of my life would take me. It was the first time I heard the music of Phish.

I had returned to the summer camp I had gone to as a camper after a two year “hiatus” now as a staff member. Still a green 17 years of age, I arrived a day or two early and there were only a couple other people already there. A friend quickly introduced a pal of his from college MJ and we quickly started talking about the Grateful Dead. I was a huge Deadhead at the time – well as much as a senior-in-high-school from Syracuse with 2 live Dead shows under his belt could be. What I definitely was was a huge Dead tape collector so I showed MJ my 4 racks of cassettes to get his opinion and scrutiny. He picked at it like a snobby record collector at a garage sale, finding a nugget or two in there that helped my ego along. Then he said it: “Have you ever heard of Phish?” “No.” “You’d like ‘em.” Innocent, clean, subtle. Later that afternoon we were tossing a Frisbee around on the grass and he threw a cassette tape into my “box”(I can’t remember – was the tape just in his pocket? Was he walking around with it, just waiting to run into some impressionable young sap? Waiting to change someone’s life?) I wasn’t really paying attention to the first song, but then he said “this is Phish” and my ears perked up (I had already decided that I was a big MJ fan, 4 or 5 years my senior, 100+ Dead shows under his belt and a killer story for each; I knew cool when I saw it).

As the next song started, my expectations grew: for the first time in my life I was open to truly new music only because someone recommended it to me. The idea was entirely novel to me. I already envisioned loving the band, of knowing about them before anyone else did. So I listened: “Bag it, tag it, sell it to the butcher in the store. Bag it, tag it, sell it to the butcher in the store.” There was definitely something different about it: it was fun, interesting… silly, very silly. I did like it, but I wasn’t sure I loved it. The song moved on. The Frisbee went back and forth, back and forth, the sun was shining in that perfect start-of-the-summer kind of way and the music swirled into a dreamlike fugue. I was listening I guess, but not concentrating, the whole moment was idyllic: no one spoke, just a Frisbee being tossed around by a few guys feeling each other out, the anticipation of a whole summer in front of us. A fully content moment, I was entirely lost in my own thoughts. Then something broke me out of this dream state – “Bag it, tag it, sell it to the butcher in the store…” Holy shit! That was the same song? The same band? I had completely forgotten that I was listening to this band that I was supposed to like. What was the name of that band again? Where am I, what am I doing, who are you and what is this plastic disc in my hand? (you know, for kids?).  My mind reeled backwards in time, the silly staccato lyrics, the twisting composition, the “jam” that was neither jazz nor rock nor anything I had ever heard before… certainly not the Grateful Dead. I’m pretty sure I ran back to my tent, grabbed a blank Maxell XLII, rewound the tape and just recorded myself a copy right then and there. By the end of the day I had Lawn Boy and Junta on cassette, live shows soon to follow. And even though my first Phish show was almost a year off due to the circumstances of being an internet-free kid in high school, the rest, as they say, is history.

But this isn’t really a story about Phish, per se, I’ve got plenty of those. This is a story about guys like MJ (whom I became quite friendly with), who taught me a lot about music and tapes (how to separate the kind from the shit) and how to drink far more booze than your body should be able to tolerate, whom I haven’t seen in quite a long time. Guys that walked around with a cassette in their pocket trying to turn people on to the music that turns them on. The tastemakers. (Fun to think about: I’m not sure how many people MJ turned onto Phish, but I know I paid it forward and I’m sure the folks I got hooked did their best to proliferate. How many tapes, tickets, miles, downloads, dollars, etc. trickled down from that first Reba?). Because there were two fires that got lit that sunny afternoon: the passion for the PH, yes, but one that burns just as hot in me is the joy of turning people onto music. New music. Shit you haven’t heard before. I’ve devoted a not-too-small portion of my life to it.

So praise to the tastemakers. I’ve been lucky to run into a few of ‘em along the way that have strongly influenced what I listen to today. I think most of what listen to today can be traced to a small number of people who’ve pushed me in the right direction at the right stage of my listening “career”:: my father, MJ above, EF in college, JM and AC in my post-Phish musical reawakening and constantly through the years my brother who has strongly yinned my yang and vice versa. I raise my glass and my headphones to you guys. Thank you!

So when I try to get you to check something out and verge on the obnoxious trying to convince you, I’m just trying to capture those all-important moments. There is little better praise than knowing I’ve turned someone on to something they end up falling in love with. Few things put a bigger smile on my face. I think of the guy who turned me onto Phish and turned me onto all the other music I listen to… I think of them every time I listen. I hope you’ll do the same. It’s the good stuff. Bag it and tag it.

2010:: Favorite Live Shows

Felt like I didn't see as much music as I have in the past and yet still hit 85 shows. Nice work, me!

The raw data:
Number of shows: 85
Number of different bands seen: 100+
Number of bands seen for the first time: 53
Band seen most often: Phish (10)
Number of different venues: 38
Venue hit most often: Bowery Ballroom (13)
Number of cities hit: 10
Number of states hit: 4

1. Phish 10/30/2010 Boardwalk Hall, Atlantic City||8/6/2010 Greek Theater

In my youth it seems I always lucked into seeing all the "it" shows, but now it seems just the opposite, seeing great shows but not the transcendent ones. I saw 10 shows this year, ranging from decent to spectacular. These two Saturday night shows, though, blew me away like no other music did in 2010. The band will get their own post, but these two were in another league, finding the band locked into something special. They stand in for all the other PH shows I saw, it's just another category altogether, it wouldn't be fair to the rest of the great music I saw in 2010.

2. 1/23/2010 Anders Osborne|Metzger/Kalb/Johnson/Hall|The Black Hollies @ Sullivan Hall

The Freaks Ball. 10th one, quite possibly the best, musically, at least. God willing, there will be an 11th. Anders Osborne revealed himself to be a force of nature this past year, so we were lucky to get him as he approached his prime. Damn lucky! Not to mention how awesome The Hollies and Metzger & Co. were. As always, the party of the year!

3. 10/22/2010 My Morning Jacket Terminal 5

The album "Z" in its entirety followed by an awe-inspiring encore. The 4th of a 5 night run that shook the west side of Manhattan. Blew me away from start to finish. I saw 4 of the 5 and loved them all, but this was the tops.

4. 1/13/2010 Krantz/Carlock/Lefebvre Rose Live, Brooklyn + 4/24/2010 Highline Ballroom

These guys could probably take a decade off, come back together and melt cerebral matter without trying. More likely they'll never play again as K3, but I'll always have the memories of special nights like these. Amazing they could play such a tiny spot without being overwhelmed. The greatest musical secret this city has ever known.

5. 5/8/2010 Broken Social Scene (Zeus opened) Music Hall of Williamsburg, Brooklyn + 9/18/2010 (The Sea and Cake opened) Summerstage

Kevin Drew once proclaimed from the stage that they could never play Madison Square Garden because they could never get their act together. Thank god for that, because while they're talented enough to do it, we're still lucky enough to see them in the warm confines of great rooms like MHOW. Of course, when they need to bring it to the big stage, Live BSS, not much better. Don't sleep on Zeus, either! Summerstage review here.

6. 7/14/2010 Mischief & Mayhem Village Vanguard

Jenny Scheinman leads a group featuring Nels Cline on guitar in the most vaunted jazz room in the city. Intriguing. The music was transcendent, a loose jammy feel by a superlatively talented band. "Jazz" in quotes, this was just amazing music flat out. I hope I get to see these guys again.

7. 1/9/2010 Claudia Quintet, Rudder, Todd Sickafoose, Scheinman/Moran, Global Noize, Benevento Trio, Bitches Brew at Le Poisson Rouge, Bitter End, Sullivan Hall

This early January evening was probably enough for 12-months worth of jazz in NYC. Bouncing around 3 different venues, almost everything was pure gold, from the revelations of Rudder and Claudia Quintet to the power of Sickafoose's Tiny Resistors and the beauty of Jenny Scheinman duet with Jason Moran. All for one ticket price!

8. 9/15/2010 The Bad Plus Bowery Ballroom

Regular readers know how I feel about the Bad Plus. This night they brought their supreme excellence to the best rock club in the city and conquered it like it was a tiny jazz club. My review here.

9. Apollo Sunshine 5/19/2010 Mercury Lounge + 3/25/2010 Southpaw, Brooklyn

Apollo Sunshine made their return to the stage in 2010 and I couldn't have been happier. For a while it seemed like maybe they'd stick around for a while, but as quickly as they reappeared, they were gone again. Thankfully, I was able to see them a couple of times, including this monster show in the Lower East Side. For some it's like riding a bike, I guess. Still one of my favorites, hope they're around in '11. Mercury Lounge review here.

10. 4/7/2010 Midlake Bowery Ballroom

Got to see a lot of the bands I really, truly love last year... some of them more than once. Midlake was in fine form with a fantastic new album and multiple NYC hits. Review here.

11. 8/2010 Newport Folk Festival Fort Adams State Park, Newport, RI

Great music, great vibes, great festival. Jim James dominated a lineup that was top notch from start to finish.

12. 6/14/2010 RANA Half Moon Cruise Ship

Just play once a year Rana, that's all we ask. Just make sure that one show is as ripping as this one. 2003 form right there in 2010. The boat + Rana were made for each other. Make it happen again in 2011!

13. El Ten Eleven 9/18/2010 Mercury Lounge + 4/9/2010 Pianos

One of the great underrated bands shredding brain right now. One of those "how the F are they doing that?" kind of shows and yet they had packed rooms in the Lower East Side in boogie mode as well. Not many bands can burn both ends of that candle. Two guys worth checking out.

14. 2/16/2010 Trey Anastasio Terminal 5

Trey is back to fine form and it's trickling into his solo act as well. Review here.

15. 3/19/2010 Portugal. The Man Highline Ballroom

Of all my favorite live bands out there, I think I got to see almost all of them in 2010. P.tM is certainly on that list and they did not disappoint at the Highline in March. The kind of show that transports you to someplace else of the band's choosing. Thank the lord these guys are workhorses, so I think we can expect a new album and lots of touring once again in 2011. Don't miss 'em when they come your way, you won't regret it!

The rest of my 50+ favorite shows of 2010:

16. 7/14/2010 Heartless Bastards Music Hall of Williamsburg

17. 7/30/2010 Steve Martin & Steep Canyon Rangers Tennis Hall of Fame, Newport, RI

18. 3/23/2010 The Clientele Bowery Ballroom

19. 10/18/2010 My Morning Jacket Terminal 5

20. 4/3/2010 Wilco Wellmont Theater

21. 9/23/2010 Pavement Summerstage

22. 2/5/2010 Galactic (Tea Leaf Green opened) Terminal 5

23. 10/13/2010 My Morning Jacket Ed Sullivan Theater

24. 6/8/2010 Les Claypool Brooklyn Bowl

25. 4/23/2010 Jason Collett/Zeus Mercury Lounge

26. 5/14/2010 Oneida/Silver Apples Abrons Arts Center

27. 7/16-17/2010 Grey Fox Bluegrass Festival Walsh Farm

28. 11/23/2010 Mike Gordon Westcott Theater

29. 7/3/2010 Portugal. The Man Water Taxi Beach

30. 9/23/2010 Anders Osborne w/ Stanton Moore Trio Brooklyn Bowl

31. 11/13/2010 The Books Zankel Hall

32. 3/14/2010 Carolina Chocolate Drops Bowery Ballroom

33. 3/31/2010 Todd Sickafoose's Tiny Resistors Jazz Standard

34. 4/8/2010 The Bad Plus The Blue Note

35. 4/17/2010 Surprise Me Mr. Davis Mercury Lounge

36. 6/29/2010 Robert Randolph & the Family Band Bowery Ballroom

37. 9/29/2010 Midlake Webster Hall

38. 10/23/2010 My Morning Jacket Terminal 5

39. 11/20/2010 The New Mastersounds Brookyn Bowl

40. 5/15/2010 Dr. Dog Terminal 5

41. 1/17/2010 Some Cat from Japan Sullivan Hall

42. 12/28/2010 Surprise Me Mr Davis Brooklyn Bowl

43. 11/13/2010 Horse Feathers Bowery Ballroom

44. 8/21/2010 Ben Allison Nublu

45. 3/30/2010 Jenny Scheinman Barbes

46. 1/28/2010 Krantz/Carlock/Lefebvre 55 Bar

47. 10/6/2010 A.A. Bondy Bowery Ballroom

48. 5/6/2010 Local Natives Bowery Ballroom

49. 10/12/2010 Broken Bells Terminal 5

50. 11/22/2010 Aimee Mann Music Hall of Williamsburg

51. 7/10/2010 The Statesmen Brooklyn Bowl

52. 9/12/2010 Stockholm Syndrome Brooklyn Bowl

53. 10/7/2010 Miike Snow Terminal 5

54. 11/6/2010 Dawes Webster Hall

55. 12/28/2010 John Zorn improv The Stone

2010:: Favorite Albums of 2010

Finally getting back on track here. These are my favorite albums from 2010. Not the best and certainly not your favorites. Didn't get to listen to everything and these opinions are all subject to change as early as later today. As usual, I'm putting these in alphabetical groups of 10, because that's the way I like to do it! If your favorite isn't on there, I probably just didn't listen to it, so feel free to drop a rec in the comments.

The Top Ten (alphabetical)

The Bad Plus -- Never Stop

Another year, another album, another spot on Neddy's top 10 list. Impossibly the compositions are getting stronger and stronger with too many highlight tracks to bother mentioning. This album is unique in its lack of any sign of the vintage TBP covers... and is all the better for it.

The Black Keys -- Brothers
Fueled by Danger Mouse's production, the Keys are in a serious groove right now. This album is rock and roll, 2010 in its essence. Somehow it sounds both like the raw guitar-drums-and-voice stripped down Black Keys and a more grandiose, detailed subtle pop masterpiece, that just happens to make your hair stand on end.

Broken Social Scene -- Forgiveness Rock Record
Finally a worthy successor to "You Forgot It In People" that shows a leap in maturity and breadth and yet retains that BSS thing that makes it so much different and awe-inspiring than just about every other music being made out there. Amazing to think that this is the same band that will give you a drunken, raucous, ragged live show night in and out. This one is still growing on me. Also seek out their EP "Lo-Fi for the Dividing Nights" which is a perfect bedtime companion to this one.

The Dreamers -- Ipos Masada Book 2

John Zorn's power ensemble. Frankly, any time Ribot, Dunn, Baron, Saft, & Wolleson are playing together, I want to be a part of it. This album has them playing Masada selections, but it's less about what they play than how they're doing it and once again they are possibly the most talented band in the universe pushing each other to be better. This music has no genre.

El Ten Eleven -- It's Still Like a Secret

If you haven't heard El Ten Eleven yet, this is the time to start. Layered, architectural electropop instrumental music made by two guys on bass and drums. This album captures the balance of move-your-mind/move-your-body well without having to stare at them on stage and say "how they do that??" Check 'em out, you won't regret it.

Jason Collett -- Rat A Tat Tat
This is probably the biggest "how'd this get on here?" of my top 10, but this is the album that probably spent the most time in my car CD player this year. It just didn't want to come out! Great songwriting from Collett backed by the band Zeus for a spongy sound that's perfect for lazy mornings, long commutes or impressing your friends with something they haven't heard yet.

Midlake -- The Courage of Others

The perfect follow-up to one of my favorites from a couple years ago (Van Occupanther), this back country baroque sounds fantastic, transporting you to another world. I don't know how to describe the Midlake sound, and it's probably something you have to "get" but there is a subtle richness in this album that's worth a little patience.

Janelle Monae -- Archandroid
Wow! Just... wow! Epic vision, perfectly executed. Looking over this list, many of these favorites seem to be not just cross-cutting styles and genre, but almost newly invented styles and genres in their own right. Monae is a musical entity unto herself -- yes, you will hear Sun Ra, Outkast, Kanye West, Carlos Santana, Jimi Hendrix and who knows what else in there, but blown together in some supersonic quasar. Probably my album of the year if forced to pick.

Spoon - Transference

I don't know if I'm even a huge Spoon fan, but good lord they put out some sweet albums. Some bands just shit out great music and Spoon is one of them, if I was a rock musician, I'd be jealous as heck.

Vampire Weekend -- Contra

I feel like I don't want to put this here for some reason, but the early year hype surrounding these guys and their sophomore effort is warranted, this is a fantastic record. I didn't think these guys would amount to more than a flash in a pan, but there is growth in sound and songs here that tells me they might be around for a while. Pick a track, listen to it and most likely you'll have it stuck in your head all day. Not many albums can do that, but Vampire Weekend can.

11-20 (alphabetical)

Clem Snide -- The Meat of Life
Cornershop -- Lucy Sucks a Lemon for Breakfast
Dawes -- North Hills
Local Natives -- Gorilla Manor
Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band -- Where the Messengers Meet
Of Montreal -- False Priest
Portugal. The Man -- American Ghetto
Wolf Parade -- Expo86
John Zorn (Burger/Dunn/Emmanuel/Perowsky/Ribot/Wolleson) -- The Godess
Kanye West -- My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

21-30 (alphabetical)

Broken Bells -- s/t

Dr Rubberfunk -- Hot Stone
Cochemea Gastelum -- The Electric Sound of Johnny Arrow
Horse Feathers -- Thistled Spring
Jenny & Johnny -- I'm Having Fun Now
Preservation Hall Jazz Band -- An Album to Benefit...
Ratatat -- LP4
Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros -- s/t
The Roots -- How I Got Over
Zeus -- Say Us

31-40 (alphabetical)

Ryan Adams & the Cardinals III/IV
Clothesline Revival -- They Came From Somewhere
Dr. Dog -- Shame, Shame
LCD Soundsystem -- This Is Happening
Anders Osborne -- American Patchwork
Phantogram -- Eyelid Movies
Sufjan Stevens -- The Age of Adz
Laura Veirs -- July Flame

The Tallest Man on Earth -- The Wild Hunt

41-50 (alphabetical)

Arcade Fire -- The Suburbs
The Books -- The Way Out
Ben Goldberg Quartet -- Baal Masada Book 2
Javelin -- No Mas
Konono No1 -- Assume Crash Position
The National -- High Violet
Nels Cline Singers -- Initiate
Grace Potter & the Nocturnals -- s/t
Ra Ra Riot -- The Orchard
She & Him -- Vol. 2
John Zorn (Blumenkranz/Burger/Cohen/Perowsky/Wolleson) -- In Search of the Miraculous

51-60 (alphabetical)

Band of Horses -- Infinite Arms
David Byrne -- Here Lies Love
Caribou -- Swim
Delta Spirit -- History From Below
Justin Townes Earle -- Harlem River Blues

Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings -- I Learned the Hard Way
Onra -- Long Distance
John Vanderslice -- Green Grow the Rushes
John Zorn -- Filmworks XXIV
Various -- Broken Hearts & Dirty Windows

61-70 (alphabetical)

!!! -- Strange Weather, Isn't It?

Blitzen Trapper -- Destroyer of the Void

The Clientele -- Minotaur
The Gaslight Anthem -- American Slang
The Hold Steady -- Heaven is Whenever
Menomena -- Mines
Mop Mop -- Ritual Of the Savage
Joanna Newsom - Have One On Me
Stars -- The Five Ghosts
Various -- Dear New Orleans

70-75 (alphabetical)

Roky Erickson with Okkervil River -- True Love Cast Out All Evil

Blonde Redhead -- Penny Sparkle
Crystal Castles -- II
Girl Talk -- All Day
Jamie Lidell -- Compass

If you're still reading down here, some fantastic EP's worth seeking out:

Broken Social Scene -- Lo-Fi For the Dividing Nights

White Denim -- last day of summer

Junip -- Rope and Summit

Various -- Twistable, Turnable Man

2010:: Reviews recap

By means of wrapping up the year, here are the reviews I wrote for the Bowery Presents House List. Although I don't find the time to review all the shows I go to on this blog any more, I'm happy for the outlet to write a review every once in a while and to see some music I wouldn't see otherwise. So...

• Aimee Mann @ MHOW 11/22/2010
• The New Mastersounds @ Brooklyn Bowl 11/20/2010
• Horse Feathers @ Bowery Ballroom 11/12/2010
• Dawes @ Webster Hall 11/5/2010
• Bower Birds @ Bowery Ballroom 10/12/2010
• Broken Bells @ Terminal 5 10/11/2010
• Miike Snow @ Terminal 5 10/7/2010
• A. A. Bondy @ Bowery Ballroom 10/6/2010
• Wavves @ MHOW 9/21/2010
• Broken Social Scene @ Rumsey Playfield 9/18/2010
• The Bad Plus @ Bowery Ballroom 9/16/2010
• Stockholm Syndrome @ Brooklyn Bowl 9/12/2010
• Heartless Bastards @ MHOW 7/15/2010
• The Statesmen @ Brooklyn Bowl 7/9/2010
• Portugal. The Man @ Governor's Island 7/3/2010
• Robert Randolph & The Family Band @ Bowery Ballroom 6/29/2010
• The Heavy @ Bowery Ballroom 6/16/2010
• Les Claypool @ Brooklyn Bowl 6/9/2010
• Apollo Sunshine @ Mercury Lounge 5/19/2010
• Dr. Dog @ Terminal 5 5/13/2010
• Local Natives @ Bowery Ballroom 5/6/2010
• Surprise Me Mr Davis @ Mercury Lounge 4/17/2010
• Midlake @ Bowery Ballroom 4/7/2010
• Wilco @ Wellmont Theater 4/3/2010
• She & Him @ Bowery Ballroom 3/30/2010
• The Clientele @ Bowery Ballroom 3/23/2010
• Carolina Chocolate Drops @ Bowery Ballroom 3/14/2010
• Rogue Wave @ Music Hall of Williamsburg 3/3/2010
• Daniel Lanois & Black Dub @ Bowery Ballroom 2/17/2010
• Trey Anastasio @ Terminal 5 2/16/2010
• Galactic @ Terminal 5 2/5/2010
• Earl Greyhound @ Brooklyn Bowl 1/30/2010

2010:: Favorite Artist of the Year

(photo stolen from Dino Perrucci)

I’ve enjoyed the last few years picking my “band” or “artist” of the year. 2008 was the year of Apollo Sunshine while last year Portugal. The Man took the honor of digging deepest into my soul. Here was last year's bands of the decade retrospective.

As with last year, this year’s pick could easily have been the Big PH, but that would be boring, and, time permitting, I plan on doing a separate year-end post on those guys. Even crossing them off the list, there are a few great choices in there, bands that impressed me on CD and blew me away live.

When it comes down to it, though, I think I have to go with Jim James. James, of course, is the front man of My Morning Jacket, which didn’t even have an album out this year. Still, during a weeklong stretch in late October, James and his band were the story in NYC and my life, when I got to see them at the Ed Sullivan Theater (my first time in that theater) in a special Letterman online show and then 4 (out of 5) nights at Terminal 5, absolutely destroying each of their studio albums and then heaping amazing cover after amazing cover into encores like forkfuls of pie after a Thanksgiving feast. It was as impressive a week of music as I’ve seen a band put on. Not just “A game” but a different game altogether. My old review-writing self would have expounded on the treat it was to see a band climb through its own history, and then re-envision their past with the knowledge and talent of today. “I wish that I knew what I know now, when I was younger...” Have you ever seen a band do that before? It was awe inspiring. It was also, loud, rocking fist-pumping fun.

It’s a rare thing to *want* to schlep to Terminal 5 multiple nights in a row, to need to get there at all costs. This year has been a lot of “maybe I won’t go out tonight” kind of nights for me, it would have been easy to fold ‘em for one of those T5 shows, but I didn’t consider it for a minute. I would have hit all 5 if I hadn’t forced The Big Squeeze to go to at least one (the night they played “It Still Moves,” which may have been the best of ‘em all). The night they played “Z” was one of the best shows I saw all year, not only because of the main album set but because they killed a cover of one of my all-time favorite songs, A Quick One While He’s Away by the Who. Wow! Still gives me the sweats thinking about it.

Still, one week in October doesn’t make an “artist of the year” for me and there’s a reason why I say Jim James and not My Morning Jacket. The reason was the Newport Folk Festival this summer. This was my 3rd time hitting the historic festival, and, of course, I’ve been to dozens of other music festivals from New Orleans Jazzfest to Bonnaroo to Austin City Limits to festivals that don’t even exist anymore. I have never, not ever, seen a festival dominated like Newport Folk was dominated by Jim James this past August. The guy was just everywhere, as a headliner, as a guest, as a stealth ensemble artist. Quite frankly, if you were an old-timer who didn’t know James or his music, I feel like you may have missed one of the all time great front-to-back festival appearances happening right under your nose. And to dominate not any old festival but the Newport F’in Folk Festival is impressive. James played an incredible solo set (as Yim Yames) which wasn’t really a solo set, then he magically transformed a set billed as Ben Sollee and Daniel Martin Moore into an intimate, under-the-radar Appalachian Waltz show in the small tent and also had an awesome extended guest sit-in with the Preservation Hall Jazz Band, transforming them into his back-up band by sheer talent and will. Here are some videos from the festival:

Gideon from the Yim Yames set:

St. James Infirmary from the Pres. Hall set:

As you can see, not only was he Michael Jordaning the crap out of that weekend, he was looking like one cool customer while doing so. So for that week in October and that weekend in August, Jim James was my personal artist of the year.

Some more links:

Watch the LettermanOnline appearance here

Listen to the Yim Yames set courtesy of NPR

Listen to the Preservation Hall set courtesy of NPR

Listen to the Appalachian Waltz set courtesy of NPR

2010 Rundown

OK, so the end of the year is nigh... gonna try and fit in some of my usual year end bologna in this space for you. Hopefully a post a day more or less through the end of 2010. Enjoy!

Nedstalgia: 15 Years Ago

During my Phishgoing glory days in the mid-90’s, I had this feeling that I wasn’t just going to amazing show after amazing show, I felt like I was part of the reason why the show was amazing. It was a chicken-or-the-egg kind of thing. I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels this way, in fact that’s part of the appeal of the band, right? The shows were not just concerts, but two-way communications between audience and band that no other band seemed to tap into quite like Phish did. Still, beyond that, there was something personal about it, spending so much time in close proximity to the stage as detailed here in Nedstalgia time and time again, it was almost as if you were inside the cloud where the weather was being made. Never was this feeling stronger than during the month of December in 1995, 15 years ago.

Now, there are many great runs and weeks and months in Phish history (and I think you’ll find, many of them are at the tail end or second leg of tours), but 12/95 may very well be the champion of Phish in month/year debates. There are plenty of reasons why this was the case, I’m sure, we could argue that for weeks if we wanted to, but what made it doubly impressive was that Phish was in the midst of “the leap” from playing theaters and college gyms to being a full-fledged arena band. That month Phish established the Knickerbocker Arena in Albany as one of their many “homes.” That was one of the Grateful Dead’s “homes” over the years. That’s kind of huge if you think about it. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the fall of 1995 was Phish’s first tour after Jerry Garcia’s death. For better or worse and still to this day, from that tour on, Phish was in more ways than one, the Grateful Dead.

So that’s the backdrop, and into that setting, we find the 21-year-old me, once again lucky by birth and college choice, to be the right age in the right spot with the accommodating class schedule and car-owning coterie of friends and family to drive me to many of these shows, 6 in total without affecting my GPA too badly. I won’t go into gory detail on all of those shows, but suffice it to say, there was a new energy in the band. Not brand new, but a refurbished, evolved sound, a little darker and heavier sound that predated the cow-funk era by about a year or so, but still was the seed in which the greatness of fall 1997 was planted. This was a band who opened the 2nd set of 12/4/95 in UMASS with a deep, groovy Timber that still sticks out in my mind for its ability to turn a gym of 20-somethings into something of a anarchic rave party. That same set featured a mid-set Antelope and closed fiercely with a YEM, Sample, Frankenstein. The band was working the Billy Breathes material, but reinventing it a nightly basis. Although the album featured a lot of solid, concise songwriting, it also had several vehicles for exploratory work that would tend more towards evil than good, in those days at least. Add to that mix the bounce of The Who’s bombastic mix from the 10/31 show and the band was a fiery foursome to say the least.

The early month highlight, has to be the Tweezer from 12/2/95 in New Haven, CT. Like nearly all the shows I saw that month, I was in the front row for this one. I was a front row center master already, but I believe during the fall of 1995 I was a Jedi, willing myself to the spot I wanted to (nay, needed to) be without hassle or worry to me or those around me. I knew in my heart that I belonged in that spot and time and time again found myself there dancing my ass off in utter bliss, jumping my young, indestructible body straight into the air as if it were just me they were playing for. And didn’t it always feel that way? Don’t mind the self-absorption, I don’t think this feeling is any different than anyone else’s, but these are my memories and let’s face it, I was young and in love.

So, that’s where I was standing in New Haven that night. The rest of the show was actually rather mediocre. That was my first show of the leg and while the 3 midwest shows I saw were great, there was no sign of the transcendence of 12/95 yet. In fact, the first set was downright mundane despite an always-pleasing Reba. It wasn’t until the Tweezer got going in the middle of the 2nd set that there was anything to suggest that we were at the forefront of several weeks of musical insanity. I could go into a Charlie-Dirksen-style second-by-second analysis of the 15 minutes that are the 12/2/95 Tweezer and it would be worth my while to do so. But that wouldn’t do it justice and even listening to it doesn’t quite capture the way it felt in the room that night (does it ever?). That shouldn’t stop you from going and grabbing the SBD version: http://www.mediafire.com/?zmk3jt2inod and blasting it right now. It starts off innocently enough, like any Tweezer would. Then about halfway through when you feel like you know where it’s going, something kind of clicks. That clicking noise might just be the moment when 12/95 went from the final stretch of the Phish fall tour to becoming all-caps “12/95”. What’s funny about this jam is that until hearing it on the archives show at Festival 8 last year, I don’t think I ever heard it again after the live version. It was one of those few moments of Phish clarity that lived only in my memory. I remember talking about it with a friend at school who always called it “The Boweezer” for the way the jam took the best parts of David Bowie and Tweezer and mashed them together like meat and melted cheese. He had a tape of it and always meant to make me a copy, but we never got around to it, more shows, more tapes, whatnot. It’s great to listen to it now, how it’s Mike that kind of pushes the change, how it’s his bass playing that’s the magical elixir that changes this from a Dr Jeckyll Tweezer to a full-throated, murderous Mr Hyde Tweezer. And Trey takes it and runs with it like the human methamphetamine. How fast and how hard could my 21 year old body dance back then? This Tweezer would be the test. Four guys each taking the threats and dares from the other three, can you play faster, can you get any more intense? Oh yeah, well beat this!! From the 7.5 minute mark to the end is one perfect musical arc, like a rainbow that leads not to a pot of gold but a small spot in a hockey arena where I had one hand on the rail, one hand in the air and 2 legs below me moving at incomprehensible angles. Maybe I heard it after then, maybe not, but when it came on the radio back in Palm Springs last October, it silenced all splashing in the pool, all conversation, it sent everyone within earshot into a hypnotic haze. When it finished and the host proclaimed it to be *the* Tweezer from 12/2/95, I was not surprised. Not in the least. 15 years and many excellent Tweezers later, it still stands out as one of the best.

By the time the Saturday show in Albany came around, it was clear there was something in the water Phish was drinking. You’d be a fool, ticket in hand, to skip the show at the Knick – seemed like everyone I had ever sat in a dorm room with listening to Harry Hood was going to that show. It would take something biblical to get me to skip that show. And then, as it always seems to do when Phish-in-December is involved, the biblical happened. Was it a blizzard or a Nor’easter or just a plain old snowstorm? Whatever it was, only a complete moron would get in a car and drive the 170 miles from Boston to Albany for a freakin’ Phish concert! I mean, 5 shows ain’t enough, you’ve got to risk your life to see a precious 6th? (note: if I ever say anything like this to my kids, show them this). Of course, we were going. Several carfuls made the voyage. Mine was driven by a friend of mine who decided (this is college idiocy at its finest) that he wanted, no he NEEDED to get beer and drink a 6-pack on the way and yet insisted that he drive. This is one of the many instances in my life where I look back and wonder how I’ve made it this far alive, happy and in one piece. Yes, you could barely see 50 feet in front of you, where the road ended and the shoulder began was a matter of opinion and even the plows were sitting it out for a bit on I-90. And yet, we barreled on through, one bottle of beer at a time, the passengers’ knuckles whiter than the Republican convention, until we, thank the lord in heaven, made it to Albany.
As it was halfway to my hometown, there were friendly faces everywhere I looked and both my brother and sister were in attendance. Met up with my bro and we made our way to the spot where it so happened that old neighbors/schoolmates/acquaintances legitimately had seats right there in front of Trey (in one of those classic, “wait, you like Phish?” moments). Another summer camp buddy joined us and we had a nice little friendly posse up there.

Now, I’ve mentioned this feeling of being not just an observer but maybe a little bit of a participant in the show. A lot of times this was just the energy, the dancing, a look here, a nod etc. But increasingly, it became a bit of a game for us to try and get the band to play a song. This started for me, I think, in 2/93 on another snowy night in Poughkeepsie when we chanted for Harry Hood until we got them to play it as a little unplanned bonus. Later it was AC/DC Bag and in 12/93 it was Slave. In 1994, my brother and I were determined to cross Funky Bitch off our need-to-see list and made it our mission to scream for it whether at a show together or separately. That’s a story for my brother (Liffstalgia anyone?), but needless to say, we eventually succeeded, even if I wasn’t there to enjoy it when the struggle was acknowledged. When 12/95 rolled around, our goal was Tube. It was a touch obscure at the time, or at least it felt that way but it was one of those tough-to-catch tunes for us and a pretty killer song that should have, we felt, been a stronger member of the repertoire. Our camp buddy felt the same way, or at least we were successful at recruiting him and he went above and beyond by taking a toothpaste tube and writing “TUBE” on it in big letters. Yes, we were freaks of the nth degree, but having a blast and seeing some sick shit along the way. The guys we knew in the seats had a sign that said “Free Bird” on it, which was one of the first times I’d seen someone bring a sign into a show… it was all scream-it-out-the-lungs back then for us dunderheads.

So the show starts and before the set starts we’re screaming for Tube and when they’re discussing what song to play they’re screaming for Tube. I mean, they’ve got to hear us, right? And eventually they’re going to play it for us, right? The first set was solid with some more of that quintessential 12/95 darkness coupled with a lot of quieter moments that the era also had. We upped our lungwork for the start of the second set, screaming for Tube, but I think at one point we crossed the line. Trey gave us a fairly obvious “STFU” look that chilled me a bit, saying “alright, alright, I hear you!” You can even hear his admonishing on the tapes. I remember thinking then and there that I would not ever scream for a song again. It was a pretty fun game for a while, but Trey’s look made me realize I’d crossed the border to obnoxiousness. I was happy to go home with the victories I’d already had in my belt. There was more than just the chase of the song to enjoy.

Probably lucky that I put the notion of Tube out of my mind for that set, because it was a smoker! One of the best of the month. Scott B from Hidden Track/YEMBlog does a great job dissecting the action in his own nostalgic post here: http://www.glidemagazine.com/hiddentrack/best-jam-ever/, so I won’t get too protracted. But, needless to say, this set had all the ingredients of Phish greatness. There really isn’t a letdown. The Timber took off where the UMASS version ended, plunging us one step closer to the funk era. In fact, I would argue that “the funk” began in earnest during the 12/9/95 second set and just you *try* to disagree with me! Plunging-the-depths jams are fantastic, but great Phish sets also include some of that “we’re wild and crazy guys!” antic and in Albany, Trey obliged, pulling out a little gizmo that had Beavis and Butthead samples coming out of it -- which in 1995 was probably a pretty unique gadget. “Uhhh this sucks!” “Asswipe!” There are a few awesome things about this little gag. First is how dated it is in retrospect. Phish of the 90’s was transcendent of time, but also very *of* the time it was in. Like I said, we can listen to the tapes and enjoy them, but remembering that the Dead had just met their untimely demise with Garcia’s passing is important. Hearing a Spin Doctors tease is ironic and makes you smile, but back then, they occupied a more subtle part of the Phish universe. But Beavis and Butthead may take the cake. Obviously, it was a rather popular TV show, but it was also the one TV show where you could actually see the one and only Phish music video (for Down With Disease… can you believe *that’s* the song that got a video??) where they characteristically panned the music, the band and the (admittedly horrible) video. So when it says “This sucks!” there’s some good shit buried in there. But mostly, it was hilarious and weird and classic “we’re kinda feeling it tonight” Phish stuff. Plop in the middle of Wilson and you’ve got something there.

Which is all well and good, but ask anyone and the only reason to get the tapes of 12/9/95 (wait, did I just say “tapes?” ) is the You Enjoy Myself. If 12/2/95 is the Tweezer of the month, tour, era (arguably it isn’t but who cares), then 12/9/95 is the YEM of the month, tour, era. Scotty B breaks it down pretty well, but this is quintessential had-to-be-there Phish. The way Trey went at his guitar during that Shaft section essentially predicted the move towards the funk. It was the first time I’d heard the band really delve into something that overtly funky like that. Sure the band could groove, but this was something different. It was a vamp, a tease, whatever, but I remember we would bring it up all the time afterwards; it was something different that warranted a second listen. The funk dripped down to near silence. I’d seen the band get so quiet they were barely touching their instruments but like so many things during the transcendent moments, they took it a bit further and actually stopped playing altogether. But the key was they kept moving like they *were* playing, like they were some weirdo “air band” like we used to do at summer camp. Except somehow there was still music coming from the stage. You couldn’t hear it, but you could feel it. I know others felt it too because people kept dancing, the beat and the melody still inside them. It was really cool. I think Trey lifted his guitar and did the classic Hendrix behind-the-back thing and Fishman got so excited pretending to hit his drums that he actually did hit his drums a couple times. And then, as if it were planned, they eased back into it, like they had ducked their heads underwater and found themselves in some underground river or something. It was a thing to behold.

There is an underappreciated aspect to the silent jam, which is where it occurs during the set. Back then, when 90% of Phish fans got their hands on this classic 12/95 gem, they got it on a 90 minute cassette, almost certainly a Maxell XLII. This YEM was long, almost 35 minutes of Phish at its finest, but could have been a bear to fit onto a tape like that sitting as it did in the middle of the set. But silent jam to the rescue! it came right where a tape flip was appropriate and so the band naturally faded out Side A and faded into Side B without any jarring (cut) on your label. You want to talk about a band in tune with its audience… THAT is a band in tune with its audience. But rest assured, this wasn’t a half hour of farting around on Beavis and Butthead samples or Shaft lyrics or silent jamming… this was 30+ minutes of a band dialed in like few bands could ever dream of. Phish was in the midst of an ascent and during You Enjoy Myself on 12/9/95 in Albany, they took a gigantic step towards that peak.

Great sets also need to sustain to the end and this one had no problem on that front, with an always-welcome Slave to the Traffic Light that made way for a blistering Trey’s-gotta-get-his-rocks-out Crossroards. Good times in Albany, NY. Always good times in Albany, NY, right??

Post show, the snow had stopped and the streets were well on their way to being cleared. I hooked up with my brother who was driving back to Boston with me, but the plan was to crash at a hotel with my buddies for the night. In yet another sign-o-the-times we could not, for the life of us, figure out where the hotel was, sans cell phone or GPS we drove around and around and around and eventually gave up. The cell phone would have also been very helpful for hooking up with my sister who was supposed to have a ride back to Syracuse… but that ride never made it to the show due to the weather and so she was stranded. We still get crap about leaving her to freeze in Albany (our gallant, Tube-wielding buddy actually saved the day on that one, so much for big brothers). Yes, still get crap to this day, but back then, the crap would have to wait until we reached a landline. Finally we just said fuck it, we ride! And off we drove to Boston through the night. I remember being so tired that as we pulled up to the I-90 toll booth I made a complete stop and fell fast asleep. Needless to say, little brother completed the trip.

12/10 was an off day. 12/11/95 was one of those all time great Phish days. Now we had a car with me, my brother, my future wife, the Big Squeeze, Oopy and his girlfriend at the time. The show that day was in Portland, Maine. The last time we had seen Phish in Portland was also a snowy, bitter cold day in December and happened to be, still to this day, one of my favorite Phish shows ever. Nothing was going to stop us from making that trip. But FIRST! Lunch!! There was sandwich stop near our school… I know, I know, everyone had a sandwich stop near their school. But Hungry Herb’s in Malden was like the Phish of sandwiches, transcendent in ways I continue to dream about (alas, it is no longer!!). You could get full just reading the menu (maybe someday I’ll just do a post on Herb’s), but I almost always got the Barbecue-Bacon-Bleu chicken tips sub. My stomach just made a weird noise as I wrote that, holy kashruth, that was a helluva sandwich. Big as heck, too. We made the incredibly forethoughtful decision to eat half of our sandwiches and take the rest with us for later. You don’t give a shit about this (if you’re still reading at all), but it’s important to my memory of the day.

The Cumberland County Civic Center is kind of like the ideal Phish venue in its size, location, and general admissionness. The only thing we knew was not only were we going to be in the front row, but we were going to be at the front of the line to get in. Now, the temperature in Boston was probably 30something but by the time we got up north to Maine it was likely in the single digits. It was a crisp, sunny winter day that made your noise sticky with ice on the inside every time you inhaled. It was cold!!! Oopy bought a ridiculously large furry hat like you might wear in Siberia and we settled down at the door to the Civic Center… and waited, waited and waited. You know you’re there early when it takes hours, plural, for the next crazy muthfukker to show up. But at that point in our lives, being in the front row was more important than most of our toes and probably a couple fingers, so we did it. When you wait for that long in somewhat insane conditions, you have a certain way of *willing* a show to be great. It had happened in the past. Hell, it had happened two days earlier with that drive to Albany. We knew we were doing the right thing, never a we’re-the-biggest-douches-in-the-history-of-Phish doubt in our mind.

Finally, after the line had swelled to a less meager size and the anxiety and anticipation an adrenaline mixed with the cold until we had some sort of unnatural high, long after the sun, which had provided a false feeling of warmth, had set, after most of the feeling in our extremities was a thing of the past, after many, many hours, the doors finally opened and we were let inside. There are so many myriad emotions associated with a Phish show, from the moment it is announced, getting a ticket in your hand, through the show itself and then years later on recordings and conversations and ridiculous pages-long exercises such as this one. One of my favorite feelings was that sensation of being the first person into the venue, walking (no running! sez the Mr. Security Man) quickly to the rail, which is standing there, bare naked, waiting to be embraced, the tension of “the wait” broken as you take “the spot” and sit down, only to have “the next wait” upon you. Settled securely in our spot, the tension switches from where we’ll be standing, to what we’ll be seeing. It is a subtle shift in anxiety, but a fun part of the process. Of course, there was chit chat about what they’d play, remembering the 1993 show which we’d seen from much the same spot, etc. The possibilities were endless, but one thing I knew was NOT going to happen was that I wasn’t, no way in hell, going to shout *anything* at the stage, let alone a song title. I’d get my Tube when I was ready, not a moment sooner. At this point, the other certainty was that we were going to get an epic show. There was little doubt about that. You don’t wait in the cold like that for anything short of Phish history... at least *I* didn’t and because I truly believed I could will greatness from the band, I knew it would be so on 12/11/1995.

Finally, the band takes the stage. Trey takes a quick look into the audience and I catch his eye as I hop up and down in excitement. Was he still pissed? Did I really think this way back then? Yes, I did and probably still do. Weirdo.

My Friend, My Friend opener. The tone has been set. Phish loves Maine, did you know that? They love lots of places and the whole state of Maine is somewhere up on that list, I can say with confidence, even though I’ve only see three shows up there... two of them happen to be two of my favorite shows of all time, although that list is probably too long to consider. Anyway, MFMF, WTF? My Friend My Friend > Ha Ha Ha which had been one of our favorites since hearing it in Lowell that past spring. Twisted, glorious energy quickly heated up the room, the outside wait long forgotten, the inside wait a thing of the past, we were digging it in the moment. The band was bundling all the greatness of the previous two weeks and resurrecting it before our very eyes. Great shows start like this, the very greatest shows started like this, we were well on our way. Bang, bang, bang! The crowd, jackets strewn on the floor below us or over the rail in front of us, was a singular, sweaty mass. We were the ball of yarn and the four musicians on stage the cat pawing away at us, like we were their toy. In 1995 Stash was just getting warmed up as a part of the repertoire and this one was solid A. Even the Caspian was a treat with Trey explaining that Elvis played his last show in the room and it was for his son, “the prince.” Excellent banter from Mr. Anastastio with the added twist of glorifying the venue, which is always a good sign. It’s weird to think that certain rooms can bring out the best in a band like that, can rise about the cookie-cutter arena-fare to make an impression. What the hell was it about the CCCC that made it special to the band, that brought us 12/30/93 and 12/11/95? I don’t know and I don’t care.

Reba followed. As almost all Rebas are, it was special. Now here’s where things took a twist to the Phishy weird. Trey announces they’re working on a new album that’s going to be 15 different versions of Dog Log which they usually play during soundcheck. Actually he says that he thought of something funny during the Reba jam which is ridiculous and amazing on so many levels, I don’t even want to go into it. Anyway, he goes on: all sorts of different ways of playing the song and tonight they needed our help with the crowd reaction. So they play the song and we’re supposed to “BOO!” really loudly in the middle of the song... “this sucks!” we were supposed to yell (which kinda hearkens back to the Beavis thing from before). It was fun and unexpected and Phish at its best. Cause when they’re having fun, you’re definitely having fun and they were most certainly having a blast up there. Plus, got to cross “Dog Log” off the list, can’t complain about that. Llama was next which was characterized by Trey’s work on the additional percussion kit he had on stage. This was one of those weird wrinkles in Phish history: Trey had this mini percussion kit on stage which he would sometimes knock away at, abandoning his Languedoc to leave the jamming to Page and Mike. Sometimes it resulted in some cool moments, other times it lead to some mind-numbing monotony. But moments like that Llama were pretty cool. Next up another Dog Log, this time we do a piercing scream. See, it’s always that *next* step that makes things super-special. Play Dog Log once with some bizarro banter and it can add spice to the soup, but play it twice, perpetuate your ridiculous ruse and you’ve taken us into uncharted areas of Phishopolis. By pulling the Dog Log stunt further into the set like that, the band was exploring their own absurdity to great effect. All this and they were just getting started, we were only halfway through the first set.

Now Trey thanks everyone for helping make the album (what’s the release date on that again?) and says that to repay us they’re going to play a song that people request all the time that they “never play.” -- looks askance at Neddy and crew perhaps? And then, when you least expect it, expect it, blammo, my first Tube! Barely 3 minutes and devoid of any jamming or accoutrements whatsoever, but who cares, right, it’s the 90’s baby! Guess he wasn’t that pissed after all and he gave me a nice little nod afterwards at which I returned a slight bow of the head and a “thank you very much!” Thanks again for that, Trey!

At this point we were positively giddy. Picture perfect playing from all involved, silly larks indulged upon, Reba, Ha Ha Ha, bustouts and, not to be outdone, my long-sought-after Tube! That’s a lot of tick marks in the notebook, enough to last a couple of shows and yet, still, we had much more. Starting first with McGrupp, a beloved tune by me that always seemed to crop up in great sets. Certain songs have a way of doing that, like an official embossed seal on the document “I hearby declare this set to be schmokin!” During the 90’s, McGrupp was one of those. As if to make sure we realized that that had been one killer first set, they closed it twice, first with Julius and then again with Cavern.

Whew! Lights come up and we sit down to deliberate, to consider, was that as good as I thought it was? Maybe you listen to the tapes and it seems like a goofball little set, that Tube isn’t such a rarity, Dog Log, who cares? But to be there on the floor of the ole Cumberland County Civic Center we were beside ourselves. Of course, before long my goofed up self can’t sit still and I stood up to look around. The set-up at the Civic Center was a little weird, there was no curtain or anything behind the stage, and there were no people sitting behind the stage, so you could kind of see backstage a little bit. Not where the band was hanging out, but certainly crew members doing this or that and whatever milling going on. So I’m looking through to this area behind the stage and I see a long-haired dude that looked kind of familiar. Could that be the guy from the Allman Brothers? Warren Haynes? What the hell would he be doing up here in Maine? This was before Warren was the ubiquitous, the hard-working, capital-M “MAN” that he is now. He was just the guitar player in the Allmans to me, although I had seen a killer Warren Hayne in Boston a year or so prior, but I could have sworn that was him. Or maybe just someone that looked like him that schelps the boxes around or drives the bus? Tracking...

Now if McGrupp was one of those waxen seals of Phish set superiority, The Curtain was/is the granddaddy of them all, for me, the song that seemed to pop up whenever the boundaries of greatness were trespassed. It continues to this day in its superior “With” form. In retrospect, there was no way the second set of 12/11/95 *didn’t* open with The Curtain. Followed by Bowie and we are officially hitchhiking to Gamehendge we are so far gone. The set from there was just one solid hit after another. Perhaps no version of any tune from the show rivals the YEM from Albany or the Tweezer from New Haven, but through relentless awesomeness, the show itself reached proportions epic. But we did get a glimpse at the epic as the set wound down through a sweet Harry Hood and a nod to The King in Suspicious Minds. Before the end of the set, Trey invites none other than (you saw this coming, right?) Warren Haynes on stage -- right again, sir! Special guests at a Phish show were and are indeed a special occurrence in their rarity, but not always special in the music that results. I’ve seen plenty of sets go completely south the moment the guests came out. Not to worry here as Warren elevated the set-closing Funky Bitch to places it shouldn’t be allowed to go. Rip-roaring guitar dueling of the kind Warren was born to crush. Anastasio vs. Haynes to finish an already Mothra of a Phish show. What could be better? I’ll tell you what could be better -- to do it all over again in the encore with Warren joining in on While My Guitar which impossibly surpassed the Funky Bitch and probably remains the definitive version of this song played by anyone anywhere. (maybe?)

It was like a Neddy greatest hits with Reba, The Curtain, McGrupp and then the semi-ironic appearance of not just Tube, but 2 other in the songs-I-loved-enough-to-shout-for genre in Harry & Funky Bitch. It’s like the moment I let go, they started indulging all my setlist desires. Even looking into the future, since these days, I’d be happy if they played Reba and The Curtain every night which were two of the standouts from a night full of ‘em.

We exited the arena and made it back to the car which felt like the inside of a refrigerator. Good thing, too, because the second half of our sandwiches were waiting for us like the return of Warren for the encore slaughter. The day had been fun, the show an ecstatic front row undertaking, but perhaps eating those frosty cold BBQ-bacon-bleu subs tied the whole thing up for us. Holy shit, nothing has ever tasted so good after a Phish show!! Never, ever! We still talk about this show as the one where we had the Herb’s subs waiting for us.

This write-up is impossibly long, but hell, it was December 1995, it deserves such blathering, doesn’t it? What gets shortchanged was 12/12/95 -- how the hell I made it home from Maine and then went back to Providence the next day is beyond me. Who drove me to that show? I do not know. According to phish.net, Portland was on a Monday and Providence on a Tuesday... how the hell did that happen? How did I graduate in 4 years? The Prov. show was punctuated mostly in my mind by the terrifically long version of Down With Disease. The “made-for-MTV” tune was actually a lot different during its first couple of years in the repertoire, serving more as a high-energy set closer a la Chalkdust or later Character Zero. According to my recollection, this was the first time I heard the band really use it as a springboard for something more improvisational, and boy did they stretch this one out and out and out. I don’t remember it fondly, but I will admit, I don’t remember *everything*. Anyway, Providence, in my memory, pales in comparison to the previous weeks full of shows, but maybe it was just as good if not better and I just need to go back and take a listen. I mean, it was part of 12/95, how bad can it be?

Thanks for reading! You’re nuts for making it this far, but not as nuts as I am.