Bringing It On Home: AWidespread New Year's Celebration

by Chip Schramm

The end of the calendar year is traditionally marked by collective celebration in most cultures. 365 days seems like a reasonable amount of time to bookmark the passage of one period as it gives way to another. The New Year's holiday gives people time to look back upon all their accomplishments of the past and plan new goals for the future. Invariably, it's also a chance for old friends to get together and celebrate in style. Regardless of the semantics debate about whether or not the next millennium begins on January 1, 2000, men and women around the globe were geared up to ring in the new year like never before.

Widespread Panic played two sold-out shows at the newly opened Philips Arena in downtown Atlanta, Georgia on December 30th and 31st. North Georgia has always been the home base for the band and many of its supporters, so Atlanta was once again the logical spot to gather the family for a few nights of musical fun and merriment. Four sold out shows at the much smaller Fox Theater in 1998 essentially forced the band to move into a bigger venue to accommodate their growing army of fans. In addition to Americans who came from as far away as Washington State and upper New England, there were also many fans that flew in from Europe for the two-night run. There was no doubt that the Widespread Panic family has grown both in numbers and personalities throughout 1999. As I rushed from one place to the next over the course of the long weekend, old friends and new seemed to be around every corner. This is much less a testament to my own personal experience, but rather a true commentary on the scene as a whole.

Things would get of to an auspicious start on Wednesday night, the 29th. Just about everyone headed to Atlanta for the shows had already arrived, and many were treated to a party thrown by various members of the infamous Atlanta Crew. As is their custom, the Atlanta Crew insisted on doing everything up just right. They had invited just enough people so that the party was packed to the walls, yet virtually everyone there knew each other at least a little. There was plenty of brown liquor and cold beer as well as various party favors for the guests. They even have their own T-shirt printed up with their listserv name on it, WpAtlCrew. The party lasted late into the evening and subsided a little only because a handful of people headed up to the Brandyhouse to see Col. Bruce Hampton play with some special guests.

Thursday morning and afternoon were all about getting geared up for the shows and parties to follow. Fortunately, downtown Atlanta is full of all kinds of hotels, from the modest Super 8, to the mammoth Westin Peachtree Plaza, towering over the entire metro area. Getting checked into the proper hotel, finding a safe place to park the car for a few days, and taking a thorough stock of all supplies was the order of the day. Let's see we've got a case of Fat Tire, case of Champagne, couple bottles of red and white, jar of green, hmmmmwhat do we lack now? DAMN! We forgot the canned food for food drive.

Josh Stack had originally come up with the idea of giving a little back to communities in which Widespread Panic fans also made an impact. The plan first came into fruition back at Halloween when Stack had a table set up near the floor entrance at UNO arena. The name of the informal group of donors was "Widespread Panic Fans For Food." This time he picked a less formal spot for the drive, designating Smith's Olde Bar in midtown Atlanta. Not coincidentally, Smith's is also the traditional New Year's pre-show meeting spot for the Widespread mailing list, Spreadnet.

Fortunately, there were a few supermarkets on the way to Smith's, so after gathering about a dozen cans, we headed to the gathering. I had never been to Smith's before, and I liked the atmosphere. The poor girl tending the bar seemed completely stunned to have a packed room of thirsty patrons by 4pm and had to call in for reinforcements. Josh did a good job of keeping the crowd focused on the good nature of the gathering as he raffled off Scrapple videos and Panic posters. Just about everyone in the Panic community was represented from a few childhood friends of mine who I never knew listened to the band, to Spreadnet guru Daniel Gold from An Honest Tune magazine. I was told that the turnout at Smith's was the best ever for a pre-show party, and I headed back downtown to get ready for the first show.

The Thursday night show on the 30th was somewhat of an experiment, both for the band and the staff at Philips arena. Though there had been a few sporting events and exhibitions, there hadn't been a concert the magnitude of the two that were about to take place. "The Phil," as the building will forever be known, was built in the same spot as the old Omni, but was reputed to have much better acoustics for live music. It also holds about 25,000 people, so this was a much bigger indoor venue than the band was used to playing. The acoustics were indeed, excellent, but the main difference was that the sound as a whole was amplified on a much grander scale. This made the more intricate parts of extended jams stick out, but also highlighted a couple of blown verses and general miscues. Overall the sound and tech crews did a commendable job of translating the band's sound through the board and monitors at the Phil.

The first set opened with a fairly standard "One Arm Steve" leaving one to assume that the big city doctor had already taken care of everybody in the house. "Pigeons" to follow was also a solid first set song, but the segue into "Surprise Valley" before the end jam surprised quite a few people, including myself. I felt certain they would save that for New Year's Eve, but a Pigeons sandwich with the tightest, most evolved song of the year stuck in the middle was too sweet. This version of Surprise Valley was the best I have ever heard, edging the one in Chicago out by a nose. The funky exchange between Jojo and Schools throughout the segues really made for a nice spread. It was better than Mircale Whip, I tell you. "C Brown" and "Walkin'" were paired next as songs from the eponymous album were featured heavily all night. Both were played well and true to form, lengthened perhaps a little to make sure that between the six of them they didn't leave anything out.

The set would pick up a little as the band kicked into low gear to grind out a creepy sounding "Blight." The high ceiling in Philips combined with the varying degrees of reverb placed on JB's vocals and Jojo's organ created an almost indescribable vibe throughout the entire room. It may not translate very well on tape, but Much like master songwriter Vic Chesnutt, the band wove their magic around the listener and pulled them in tighter. It was at this point that I realized what a powerful room I was standing in. The band had us on a string and they could've done anything they wanted to at that point. We were in for the long haul, that's was for sure. Again, there was no real surprise that Jojo broke out "Greta" here. With a nod to the University of Georgia (dawgs) and Georgia Tech down the street (yellow jackets,) Jojo belted out everybody's favorite sing-along song with gusto. The lyrics might not change much, but the jam at the end of "Greta" keeps snowballing each time they play it. At one point I honestly thought David Schools was testing the surface tension of the ceiling to see if he could crack it with his deep bass lines. "Travelin' Light," to close the set was nice. Nance ripped merrily away at the snare drum while Sunny provided the traditional timbale frenzy as they ripped down the backstretch. Set one was in the books and there was no turning back from here.

Set two would continue in much the same vein that the first, mixing old classics with newer favorites. The lone instrumental of the night, "Disco," got everybody back on their feet in a hurry. The jamming was tight and confident as the band members each got their own licks in at the appropriate moment. The segue into "Wondering" featured the usual Houser guitar riff to set it off, and it served as a transition song, as usual. I don't have any particular dislike of "Wondering," but for such a simple song, it's a shame to not get all of the verses right. Well maybe they did it that way on purpose. Sure, that was it. To this point in the show, Mike had been holding back a little, so it was nice to see him let it all out and sail through an inspired version of "The Waker." The backbeat was right on time and the reverberations from Mikey's amp to the roof and back again during the chorus created a dizzying sound throughout the arena. My only legitimate complaint from the entire weekend was that they didn't bring either John Keane or Rev. Jeff Mosier out to play banjo on "The Waker." Keane did it on the album and Mosier was originally tapped to play on the album as well, but neither was seen onstage at Philips arena.

By the fourth song of the second set, everyone was ready to hear some horns. The boys in the Dirty Dozen Brass Band obliged, and Roger, Ephrum, and co. took to the stage at varying points in the set. It's amazing to me how a song like "Weight of the World" that is otherwise uninspiring takes on a whole new life when you add horns. Sure there are a few horns on the Mom's Kitchen album, but nothing like this. The addition of extra players gives this song an added dimension. The version in Winston-Salem over Thanksgiving was another good rendition. As the groove slowed a little and the sound of slide guitar wailed through the building, there was no doubt that "Christmas Katie" was next. Played at perhaps its most appropriate moment, this Widespread Christmas Carol really made me feel good inside. Right when Count Mbutu snuck onto the stage and everyone felt sure they were going to slide into drums, the boys slipped another one in on us. At one point in the set, the band was murmuring "what a dream, what a dream" in-between lyrics of one of the other songs. It seemed so deeply rooted in the back of my mind that it DID feel like a dream, so I wasn't sure if we were really going to hear Arlene or not.

The segment of Arlene>Drums>Bass>Proving Ground>Big Wooly Mammoth>Proving was not only the longest of the night, it also featured some special guests on percussion. In an effort to top the incredible drum sessions of 12/30/97 and 7/26/98 Sunny Ortiz brought out Dr. Arvin Scott and Guarav Maholtra in addition to Count Mbutu and his usual Dirty Dozen sidekick, Terence. Dr. Scott is a professor at the University of Georgia who helped Sunny organize some open drumming events for charity earlier in the year. The combined years of experience of the six drummers on the stage is anybody's guess, but the number must be staggering. The one thing I really like about drum sessions in general is how many people can share in the groove regardless of the differing styles of each player. Drums subsided after a while and Schools came out to work on a little more of his bass solo as has become his custom in the past year.

The band eventually came back onto the stage after a lengthy break. Philips Arena had proved a very worthy venue so far and it was fair to say that playing in front of a crowd of 25,000+ each night gave the band amply opportunity to prove themselves as well. It was only appropriate that they would throw in a bluesy, dirty version of Proving Ground, split in the middle by Big Wooly Mammoth. The added percussion on Proving really sounded great throughout the arena and it built up steam that eventually erupted as the band played tweaked their levels to the max to end the song. The "Climb to Safety" to follow was a good closer for the first show of the run. I like the way that Sunny shakes the beaded sphere to simulate the sound of a train chugging down the track.

The two encores to follow were quite a treat. "Coconut" is usually reserved for New Year's exclusively, but the boys broke it on the 30th, giving a hint that they had bigger plans in store for the second night. "Makes Sense To Me" seems to be a favorite choice for an encore, so the two songs were paired well. Both were played well and everybody got one last chance to break in their new dancing shoes before the big ball the next night. . . . or so we thought. There was one last surprise in store on this night. The boys came out again for a second encore and played "Let's Get The Show On The Road," a song that many fans had requested online in a official poll by the band weeks before New Year's. This version wasn't the most polished as far as technique goes, but for a song the band so rarely plays, that can be overlooked. The fact that we got a second encore at all was quite special and everyone walked out of the building with a smile on their face and notes still buzzing in their ears.

If the 29th was house party meet-and-greet, the 30th was more like getting down to business. The hotel scene was pretty raucous by all accounts, and I personally never even made it off of the second floor of the Hampton Inn. Everybody just seemed to end up there as they had for all the other shows all year. The Chicago, San Francisco, Mobile, Memphis, Atlanta, and Northern Mississippi crews were all well represented. It was like the mother of all family reunions with even an expatriate from Amsterdam thrown into the mix. Everybody just mingled and played together long through the night until most of us realized that it would probably be a good idea to get a little sleep before the New Year's Eve show.

The 31st would begin slowly. Everybody was cherishing what beauty sleep they could cram in before getting up and doing it all over again. With supplies gathered and wood cut to keep the first burning all night, I was free to see a little of downtown Atlanta and catch up with some friends. I had an extra that I needed to give to Mike Twilley, a stockbroker from Tulsa now living in New Jersey. He stopped by the room and enjoyed a snack with the North Mississippi crew and myself as we speculated on what songs the band might break out that evening. As Mike Pondered his meal he blessed us with the most profound statement of the entire run. In the most serious tone of voice, he muttered something to the effect of "This is what seeing a Panic show in the South is all about - sitting around with a couple of sisters from Mississippi, eating fried ham!"

After that I headed over to the CNN center to see if they had put any street barricades up in anticipation of a riot downtown for Y2K. To my disappointment, everything seemed pretty mundane as TV broadcast types were busy scurrying around trying to film a session of Talkback Live for CNN. I met up with more of the Memphis crew and took a tour of the Omni hotel. That is a really world-class place. How the freaks staying there interacted with the Baptist family retreat patrons also booked all over the hotel would make for an interesting story another time.

We wondered over to Centennial Park, the site of the Olympics bombing just a few years before and found it to be nearly deserted. The weather was so unseasonably warm that the ice skating rink was full of slush and water as stubborn children begged their parents to let them just splash around a little while longer. The park itself was quiet and serene, and I couldn't help but wonder if people were avoiding it because it was a likely spot for a terrorist attack. I mean, if they played their cards right, terrorists could've taken out the peace-loving hippies, pious Baptist congregation, and CNN World Congress center all with one shot. There would be bombs dropped that night inside Philips arena, but only the ones that sooth the soul.

I wondered back to the hotel with a really peaceful feeling inside. The next six hours that followed were an incredible blur from the pre-party with plenty of folks dressed in tuxedo and ball-gowns to the after party with everyone just letting it all hang out. The New Year's show itself was a wonder, but I doubt I could offer up a worthy review here. Check out the Southeast region section edited by Gil McLemore and there should be some really tasty reviews to whet your appetite, just in case you missed it in person. It's sufficient to say that 1999 saw Widespread Panic break into new territory as both musicians and as an institution. An impressive studio album combined with four very successful tours kept both the band and their fans around the world scrambling to keep up with it all. If I took any pearls of wisdom away from Philips Arena that night they would be the following: A good Panic show is like a high-scoring hockey game. It was a good thing I brought my sunglasses. A little soul goes a long, long way. And indeed, it really is a wonderful, wonderful world.