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Saturday, July 15, 2000 stealing the sunshine from just above me... this is perhaps going to be one of the oddest days of my life thus far. tour ends tonight, and i'm none too comfortable with that fact. not at all. in fact, i'm surprised i'm not a crying mess right now. yet, nothing should surprise me anymore, not after the kind of tour i've had. the third night of deer creek was the kind of show that i had dreamed about all tour -- ranking high up there with the july 4th performance at camden, the tour opener in antioch, and the second night in pnc. the long-awaited my friend, my friend opener certainly paved the way for what would be an unbelievable performance throughout the night. there were hardly any points during the show in which phish disappointed me musically. yet, i left with this terrible, nagging feeling that still has not gone away. it is amazing how time moves so quickly while everything is just where it should be. we made our way to polaris ampitheatre in columbus after taking a very lazy day off at jesse's school in oberlin. things were going all too well, it seemed. we got there in plenty of time, went to a nice little restaurant right around the corner from the venue, and i noticed immediately that i could order a cosmopolitan-- the martini made famous by sex and the city, and my mother's favorite drink to order when she and i go out for our special dinners a few times a year. it hit me right then that i really have missed my family, more than i ever expected to. i have already been away from home for quite some time, yet the infrequent amount of visits and phone calls possible while on tour have certainly taken its toll on me. at that very moment, i wanted my mother to be sitting across from me at the table, sharing the drink with me, telling me about her life. i wanted so much to allow my mother to understand my experiences as i've come to experience them myself. yet, i realized that there was absolutely no way to even come close to possibly explaining these experiences beyond just experiencing them on your own. how does anyone put this kind of tour into a reasonable explanation? in any case, there i was at the restaurant, the martini glass almost down to the bottom. i was happy -- very -- happy all of a sudden. happy enough to go order another cosmopolitan. i woke up about an hour later in the backseat of my friend's car. our tour contingent stood around the car laughing. jesse started tickling me and told me i was a drunk fool. i sat up and my head felt like it weighed at least a hundred pounds. "i'll be damned," i muttered, "i'm drunk as all hell." it took until the second set of the night for me to feel somewhat awake. i felt like a moron -- it was the second to last night of tour, and there i was, tired and hungover, unable to enjoy the amazing set to its fullest capacity. i strained a smile when jibboo came on, pointing out that it was the eighth jibboo of tour, making it truly the summer of jibboo. "that's going to be the last jibboo this summer," someone pointed out. every song i was hearing was probably going to be the last time i heard them this summer. i don't believe i've ever felt this kind of pain before. it was unfamiliar and eerily incomprehensible.
tonight, though, is when it all comes together. i've had predictions on how it may be, but one could never really be too sure. this is phish. it's out of our hands.
...and perhaps out like a chicken without its tail, but that remains to be seen until this time tomorrow.
in any case, welcome to the madness that is noblesville, indiana; a backwards yet eerily endearing town that just happens to have what seems to be the most beautiful venue of phish summer tour. i cannot say that anything around these woods have gone all too smoothly, though. so far, in what seems like should be the most relaxing and comfortable part of tour, nothing has been going as smoothly as we'd want. this is not to say that some of these interesting detours weren't fun...
one thing that i've learned to really dislike about tour is something that cannot really be changed by any means. sometimes it's too hot, too sticky, too sketchy, too crowded, and too much for me to handle. the last place anyone wants to be when feeling that way is anywhere near the lawn at a phish show. even if you think you remember where your friends said they were going to sit, chances are you'll be chasing your own tail through the twisted maze a few times around before even coming close to where you will find familiarity. deer creek is a perfectly sized venue, yet it's crowded as hell as everyone conjugates to the middle of it. it's the oddest thing. if one were to take an aerial view of the music center, it would look like a wilting daisy: a big dark circle in the middle, and some hazy petals scattered nearby it. for some reason, the really sweet view of --you've guessed it-- the creek from way up top on the lawn is not good enough for basically anyone. instead, the people gather in the hot, sweaty core.
another thing i've learned is that i hate having to venture through hot, sweaty, stickiness to attempt to find people i am supposed to be seeing the show with. it is just a trip through some sort of sub-hell. i mean, isn't it ironic that while pushing your way through the mess, the soundtrack to your troubles is possibly the best music out there? in any case, i pushed my way through what seemed to be a really tight cars, trucks, buses opener and a wilson that got people raging. i was beginning to feel desolate and negative. when i broke free from the crowd, i found myself about five feet away from a bench that looked rather inviting. and that was how i spent the rest of the set: alone, confused, and listening to what seemed to be pleasant, happy phish songs from a spot i'd never really ventured to before. it was, in a way, bittersweet.
however, let this be hailed from the rooftops for as long as humanly possible: the second set was pure joy. in fact, last night upon returning to our decked out hotel (more on that later), i wrote a long, drawn out explanation of just how i felt during that second set. i even made remarks about weird al yankovic. and star trek's own john de lancey. and this morning, as i was getting ready to finally go to sleep, my computer decided it wanted to reboot. guess who didn't upload the file?
file not found.
and for the life of me, i still cannot recall just what the ubiquitous Q had to do with the seventh jibboo of tour. but i swear: last night it made all the sense in the world. it will be one of those unsolved mysteries. how did erica lynn feel during the second set of first night deer creek? sorry, can't say. it's hidden treasure, lost somewhere in innerspace...
without coming off too much as a whiny tour kid (or so we hope...), i feel as if i am the only one out there who is getting just a tad bit tired of the massive amounts of gotta jibboo?! granted, versions like 7/4 or even first night deer creek were stealth jibboos; the best they could possibly be. yet, it has been all too predictable and when it gets to the point where you're saying the words 'gotta jibboo' over and over again in a language that you made up yourself, it's time to send those signals over to the band and let them know we got the point. jibboo is a good song. stop reminding us every other day.
that said, suffice it to say that what was to follow would be even crazier. we arrive at the lots earlier than usual, and upon parking, realize that we left the tickets back in the room. luckily, we intercepted someone who had not left the hotel room yet and had them bring it to us in the lot. any good thing that happened to us from that point on seemed like pure luck. the ya mar opener distressed some while drove others into ultimate elation. i grooved along in my own slight way, a bit taken aback by what felt like slight madness going down on stage. i mean, ya mar is so mellow and yet stunningly perky. i'd look up, though, and see the band glance at each other with sarcastic half-smiles. i knew that things would start to go awry, somehow.
uncle pen, as always, was fast enough and tight enough to turn the crowd into one big massive ball of energy. then, what seemed to be a fun drowned began, only to be interrupted about halfway with the lyrics 'chalkdust torture! chalkdust torture!' being sung throughout in surprisingly tight harmony. most predictions from that point on were right: they were going to eventually take this strange chalkdust twist and bring it into the actual song. predictable or not, the chalkdust torture to follow had an unmistakable new spark due to the creative buildup. maybe this was a way of phish laughing at themselves. maybe this was their way of making the song interesting. maybe they did this impromptu. it doesn't matter. even the great theme from the bottom and cavern did not bring the audience back to any sort of familiar reality. just what was that new chalkdust stuff?!...
also spracht zarathustra as a second set opener seemed rather fitting. at this rate, the song could be quite off (as it was many times tonight), but if you are in that venue and soaking in the light show, you cannot help but feel nothing but happy to be there. a very standard down with disease followed, with what then became the second odd theme for the night: led zeppelin's moby dick implanted itself in and out of every song for the rest of the set. it almost seemed as if the rest of the set -- full of its own goodies, including a fishman vacuum appearance -- was lost in moby dick's firm grasp. to top it all off, we found ourselves next to a man who was quite confused himself -- he swore that he was the messiah. i could not wait to get out of there.
...but only to get pulled over not five minutes down the road to a random 'sobriety check.' it seemed all too fitting, as i waited patiently for the officers to clear us through. we have too nice of a hotel room for me to even take the word 'tour' too seriously right now. our laptops sit on this desk we've deemed the Geek Tour 2000 Mobile Command Center. and a kitchen. and couches. and a toaster! yet, everything seemed to bring with it some sort of hassle.
many people have looked towards the three night run at deer creek to be the (hopeful) best shows on tour. i think that expectations may have just been placed too hastily. they're seeming to be playing very wonderful shows -- quite fitting of all of this tour's shows -- but this business of predicting the best show of the summer because of its pretty venue and history may be a tricky one to work right. i'm hoping tomorrow really rages. i'm beginning to realize that this ends all too soon.
after tonight's show at alpine valley in east troy, wisconsin (don't look in your atlas for it, cause it's not going to be there), i had a fleeting thought to send the phish organization a letter about how to better plan tour venues according to lengths between them, weather, and steepness of lawns. no, really.
you see, it was not that the ten hours difference between the previous night in star lake and alpine was the major problem. we'd become numb to those kinds of drives at this point -- i fondly recall the trip from raleigh to long island as long but comical -- but there's something to be said about feeling as if you are on a treadmill as you go from your spot on the lawn or in the pavilion to the lots or to get some food or drink. let's all thank the alpine valley ampitheatre architects for giving us tired tour kids at their thirteenth show in a row a good place to work our leg muscles. waffle house calories, begone!
with that said, can anyone take a gander as to how i spent most of the show?
somehow, i managed to lay down; curling up into a little ball, leaning my head against my backpack. i carefully avoided getting stepped on and continuously got down to the show as a small animal might have. there were no screens for the lawn folk to better see the stage action with, so i figured that instead of straining my eyes as well, i'd enjoy this show with my ears only.
yet, the show seemed to come and go with very little meat. literally and figuratively, of course. in a way, it was as if the show was full of mouth-watering appetizers (nicu, piper and tweezer, for instance), and luscious desserts (horse -> silent in the morning, susie greenberg) but no dinner platter. i left the show full by default; there were many good moments because they simply could not be otherwise, yet what i really needed was a hearty meal that just was not given to me yet. i suppose they will redesign the menu for deer creek -- perhaps rightfully add the dinner and a garden salad.
sanity, anyone?
besides this online concoction, i’ve been keeping a handwritten journal that i have successfully brought to every summer show this tour, scribbling setlists and the like into it as if i had never even used a computer in my life. it’s become quite the companion. In fact, the reality of it all is that it will serve as my only tangible reminder of my travels this time around (besides, of course, the ever-growing pile of colorful mailorder ticket stubs that i have somehow managed to save all together.)
call it whatever you please, but i am pretty well convinced that i have had an uncanny intuition for most of this tour as far as setlist predictions go. this is not to say that i can write full setlists – segues, special guests, and the like – before even actually entering the venue or any such nonsense that dionne warwick and her psychic friends would dig. it is just that i have found myself immersed in these very strong feelings every now and then, which usually turn into unbelievable bursts of phantasmagoric glee, my head nodding in a rather confusing combination of shock and absolute knowledge.
i was standing between where the lawn and the pavilion met right before the start of the first set of the second night of camden. i took out my book and started scribbling the date and venue into it, and before i knew it, i had created something quite pleasing. i am hardly an artist in this way, so suffice it to say that it was not only quite a feat—but a surprising one. i looked at my friend and mumbled something about how the show just had to be intense.
“and you know, they played ‘rift’ last year on the fourth of july,” I said to my friend.
anyone who has been touring with me had probably gotten mighty tired of my constant rambling about the song ‘rift’. at that point, i just wanted to hear the song already to just make sure that phish had remembered how to play it, or at least remembered that it was indeed in their repertoire. it had been almost two years since my last live ‘rift’. my favorite phish song. it had been disturbing me to no end that I would always miss out on hearing it, and that the tour had been nine shows strong and not even a sign of a ‘rift’ was ahead. it was a simple wish, a silent prayer…
i walk inside the pavilion, and as i am approaching my seat, a kid turns to his friend and is gloating about being backstage a few moments previously.
“yeah, I saw page! it was freakin’ neat, man. and they were practicing back there. they were playing ‘rift.’”
halfway into ‘farmhouse’ i began having my doubts as well. what were the odds, really? (david ‘zzyzx’ steinberg, care to take a gander at this one?) there was nothing I could possibly do except do what i always do: hope and hope and… write on a beach ball?
jesse was busy scribbling ‘windora bug’ onto this beach ball that landed by our seats. “put RIFT!” i yelled out. ithink he got as far as the ‘r’ when that tell-tale strumming of the g that indicated…… my dream come true, finally! it was ‘rift’, it was the fourth of july, my favorite city was peering out from behind a bridge nearby, i was engulfed in a bearhug. it was one of those moments I know I’d not forget.
and the fun did not even stop there. phish continued to throw us some wonderful surprises – ‘it’s ice’ was off the perverbial hook, while we also were the witness to the first ‘stash’ of summer tour, a ‘magilla’, and the best ‘jibboo’ thus far (number five of the tour at that point, out of ten shows.) phish knew what they were doing to each and every one of us, trembling in musical ecstasy as they tore the place apart with their combined powers. i walked out of the venue shaking my head and throwing my hands up in the air, defeated. “this can’t be happening…”
but yes. it did and it is. and i got my ‘rift.’
next stop: toronto.
when i used to attend school in buffalo, trips to toronto were somewhat frequent. it had been some years since i had made that trip across the border, and jesse and i were rampant with a sort of nervous energy. i was not quite sure what i was so nervous about; i think i was just a bit shocked that i’d be seeing phish in canada. and what a strange ride it was – after every major city we would pass on 90, it seemed as if more ‘friends’ were joining us on our trip. by the time we reached the border inspection booth, the line of cars that were obviously heading to the molson ampitheatre had grown immensely. i looked out the passenger window and made eye contact with the people in the other cars. for some reason, the knowing smiles that were returned to me made me feel incredibly good. i think i am truly beginning to understand – after five years – this wacky concept of ‘family’ on phish tour. we’re all in this together…
if you have missed out on seeing phish at the molson ampitheatre in toronto, might i suggest that you do not miss it next time around, as this is not only a chill venue with tremendous scenery (it is overlooking water, almost a circus/festival-like effect to the entire place), but the staff – and basically canadians in general – were nothing but understanding, permitting, and kindhearted. jesse and i made our way to about the fourth row or so, close enough to make direct eye contact with fishman, whom during ‘dog faced boy’ made pouty faces and silly grins. the ‘reba’ opener was only fitting; it was the first and only ‘reba’ of the summer thus far, and it made way for a very interesting – and also strange – night, musically. although the show was not up to par with so many of the others (but props to a great ‘also spracht…’ and ‘piper’ – full of ‘maze’ and ‘llama’ teases galore), the gentle ambiance of the surroundings made way for a really wonderful experience for any who were lucky to share in it.
right before the second set started, i went to write down the setlist in my journal, and realized that i did not have it on me. of course, i panicked. hard. i could not believe that it was missing, and any attempt of tracing my steps were not working too well. by the time the end of the set came along, i was under the distinct impression that i had somehow misplaced my journal and that all my written mementos from the first half of tour would be gone forever – or in someone else’s hands altogether. upon returning to the car, there it was, sitting on top of the car where i’d left it. trust canada!
journal in hand, we arrived at the star lake ampitheatre in burgettstown, pennsylvania with a comfortable amount of time before the show was to actually begin. lack of sleep was beginning to catch up with me, and i rested comfortably on the lawn, realizing that no matter what phish was going to do, i was going to simply relax for the show. as the opening notes to ‘chalkdust torture’ began, i was hit squarely in the head with an orange balloon. thinking about all the wishes my friends had for songs to be played and my incredible luck on the fourth, i asked jesse for his sharpie. i had some planning to do.
i began scribbling ‘divided sky’ on as many balloons as i could get my hands on. i then turned to the kids behind me and asked them if they had any requests. a young kid with white-blond hair thought long and hard about this.
“’divided sky!’” he blurted out.
i could not even hear the starting notes to ‘divided sky’ two songs later, as i was being hugged in all directions by this boy and his friends, who had all probably felt that i had some sort of cosmic connection to the setlist gods. if that was not enough, i had also made a few balloons (for jesse’s sake) with a request for ‘simple.’ the ‘simple’ was far from what anyone had really wanted, i think, as it barely did anything except go through the, well, simple motions, but it sufficed. all that mattered was that i was predicting left and right, and perhaps if i keep up this charade, we’ll have that ‘sanity’ -> ‘harpua’ -> ‘sanity’ i’d always hoped for in deer creek.
tour. i’ll be damned…
thank you to all who have emailed me with virtual nods towards the rift that i so eloquently begged for on my journal late last night. apparently, phish decided to partake in the vulcan mind-meld that i had thrown upon them. they are on a two year delay, though, (last rift for me was at lemonwheel) so if it keeps going at this pace, i'll hear sanity in the fall!
phish played one of their best -- if not the best show of the tour tonight. they brought out old favorites while absolutely conquering the new ones. yes, it was the fifth jibboo of tour; but it was the greatest one of all time.
and there will be more -- much more -- on all this tomorrow. sleep awaits...
the last time i was in this particular room that i am sitting in at this very moment was back during the december phish shows in philadelphia. my friend laura had written the setlists down from all four sets those nights. that piece of paper is still here -- probably in the exact same spot that she had left it -- and it serves as a gentle, yet somewhat eerie reminder.
but of what, exactly?
the idea of doing an entire tour was only a fleeting thought every so often since i had started seeing phish on a regular basis some years ago. it was not that i did not think that it was possible -- i knew that in some way it could be, when the timing was right -- it was that i never really had what i thought was the defining reason. to me, it was not enough simply because i enjoyed the music of phish and wanted to experience life on the road. such was still the case in december, as i saw a few shows here and there, not even sure if i would make the trip down to florida for new years (i didn't), and not even sure if phish was worth seeing often anymore. i suppose some would call this a crossroads, but to me, it was more like a stunning slap in the face: here was a band that i had seen more than any other in my life. here was a band that i knew so much about -- musically and otherwise. here was a band that i had been so involved with that the 'scene' that surrounded it was my primary fix. mostly everything i did seemed to be traced back somehow to phish. i think that all scared me.
at my first show -- december 30, 1994 -- i had walked into madison square garden with a pretty good knowledge of phish as musicians. i had been exposed to 'junta' and 'rift' extensively, and the other studio albums enough to know the material if it were to be played. my friend mentioned about a week before the show that he had an extra ticket for 'some band i probably never heard of.' when he informed me that phish was said band, i giggled and begged him to sell it to me. needless to say, i had no idea what i was getting myself into. i don't think i could have been prepared...
i remember that it was dark and confusing in that big room -- the same room i had seen bands like rush and kiss play in earlier that year. i remember hearing some of those familiar songs and then losing them somewhere in the middle. i remember clearly how disturbingly funny it was to see the 'drummer in a dress' sing purple rain while the audience ate it all up. i left swearing that i'd never see phish again. 'i can't,' i had said to my friends. 'i have no clue what went on in there. that wasn't a concert. that was a freakin' storm.'
however, later that next year, i tiptoed back into the world of phish, seeing a show now and again, and each time with a bit more knowledge and comfort. i had gotten hold of a few tapes, easing my way slightly. i never really made 'tour buddies' or 'show friends' because i was not even aware of such circumstances. i took each show one at a time, as if i were to see rush or kiss again. i went with whomever would go. one or two friends and maybe some of their friends. we'd take a train in, go see the show, and go back home. i would not travel far.
yet the music seemed oddly compelling.
fast forward again to the december shows in philadelphia. the second night (in my humble opinion) was better than the first, yet neither were so incredible that i felt blown away musically by any such means. sure, many things had changed since that first bundle of shows i had seen back in 1994-95; i had found many tour buddies (the internet is a wonderful, wonderful thing), i had surrounded myself with the scene so much that not only was i seeing plenty of shows by many different bands, but that a lot of work that i was doing was for the scene (jambands.com, for instance)... it had morphed from a hobby to a lifestyle. i just did not know where or when it had actually changed. and i felt completely powerless against it. i think that when i made it a working priority, i forgot for a moment about the most important factor: the music.
and i urge any of you, do not forget for a moment that it is music that brings this all together.
my idea for tour came to me in a dream, actually, sometime around february. the disco biscuits had just let go of their bassist not too long before, and they had ceased any tours or frequent shows. phish was on a season break. i found myself at the wetlands in new york city often, digging the grooves of bands i had never really heard before (lake trout, the slip, the new deal, etc). i was incredibly depressed. yet i had this dream, in which i was seeing phish in the wetlands, but in present times. i mean, they were playing jibboo so it had to be. my friends were surrounding me. and i remember raising my hands up high and feeling as if i were on top of the world. then, as dreams tend to do, i found myself instantly transported to another venue. and there i was again, completely free. this kept happening until i finally woke up. i tried to jot down a setlist from my dream -- if only i remembered the songs that i had thought were played in my dream! in a few months, i was to graduate college. 'wouldn't it be a riot,' i thought to myself, 'if i went on tour?' if you know me, you know why that was a hilarious thought. i am simply the last person one would expect to go on tour. yet there i was, contemplating it greatly. i called my parents and asked them if they would give me tour as a graduation present. for some odd reason, all parties involved thought this would be really good for me. i shrugged and later ordered tickets when they became available. i picked jesse as a touring buddy. it all seemed to want to work but i was really, really skeptical. what if i hated it? what if i felt like i had at philadelphia? what if...
and here i am, typing a tour journal (so i am keeping that work aspect going still) and completely enthralled by phish once again -- for the first time in years. what changed?
if i told you, you probably would not believe me. but i'll give it a whirl regardless. ready?
it all happened when i realized that music was an unstoppable force -- a higher power. once i lost control, it felt good again. so good. and yes, phish (specifically) is far from being perfect. for instance, my time at the two hartford shows were mediocre as compared to first night pnc or antioch. yet, it is more as if i have let myself just be taken, and once i was able to that, things seemed to fall into place in ways i had never imagined.
tour is not a vacation; anyone who tells you that has simply not been on tour, or has a very distorted view of it. tour takes work -- but it's that kind of work that is so worth it. when we arrive at a show after hours of driving or even hours of parking (camdenites, beware... do i need to mention hartford?!...), the music is like a gift. it should be anyway, but these situations make it even clearer to see. and on that note... it is four in the morning and i am in a cold basement in my friend's house in jersey. i haven't slept in a few days, i don't think. my blanket looks rather inviting. tomorrow awaits...
** this author would do anything to hear 'rift'. really. she's been praying for it. every show.
there's nothing like seeing an incredible show, going home and chilling with all sorts of friends (new and old), drifting off into a very deep sleep, and waking up to the sounds of the meatstick being sang in japanese from the night before. yes, phish has done it again-- completely floored me and reminded me once more how lucky i really am.
today, a girl that i have been touring with since tennessee is returning home to virginia. i can't even explain how upset this is making me, and i'm having trouble pinpointing exactly why. i have only known her for a little over a week, yet i feel as if she has been part of my life for quite a long time. i'm finding that one of the hardest things about touring is saying goodbye to those who can't go the whole way with me. when i first left for tour, i was feeling pained about leaving my family for this amount of time, and really having a tough time saying goodbye to my friends who would not be seeing phish with me at all. i felt alone and confused and kept wondering if this was the right thing to do.
now i'm begging all these new friends of mine to just stay one more day... and one more after that... and one more after that... i want to hold on to these amazing feelings as long as i possibly could. memories are wonderful and worth holding onto forever...but i don't want them to just be memories yet. |
