Well another twelve months (including that all-important bonus leap day) have passed. So just like last January, we're buying into that whole calendar paradigm, by presenting the favorite musical memories of our editors and regular contributors. Next month, we'll review the top releases of the year. Enjoy…

Dan Alford

The main highlight of the year 2000 was not Phish's inspired summer tour, or a reintroduction to moe., or even the countless nights of Live Soul Groove, but the vibrancy of the jam community. And I'm not talking about the diversity of bands here, but the diversity of people and ideas. I met so many fantastic people this year, had so many positive interactions, that my faith in the scene and the transformative power of music was restored. With the idea of community and communication in mind, it's only appropriate that my "best of" list is comprised entirely of collaborations. First, Eric Krasno and Friends @ the Izzy Bar. I only made it to one night but it was great- an intimate venue, a smilin', friendly crowd and a multitude of loose tunes from Eric, Alan Evans, Oteil, and Dave Fiuczynski among others. It was a truly bohemian night thick with ambience. Second, The Benefit for Robert Walter's 20th Congress @ the Wetlands. Fuzz, Stanton Moore, Hope, Kraz, Logic, Robert Walter- a rotating host of characters to big to name spilled out hour after endless hour of serious functagious grooves. What a party! Moving from soul/groove to old school psychedelia, the Friday the 13th Phil and Friends show at the Beacon pulverized my feeble little mind- I'm only now beginning to recover. I won't try to go into details. well maybe one: Help > Slip > Terrapin > Slip > Franklin's (!) to close. Finally, my favorite 25 minutes of music from the whole year occurred on the wasted boardwalk of Asbury Park when Jorma, Bob, Jack, Marc, Rob, Jay and Harvey teamed up for the most intense acoustic inferno that I've ever been fortunate enough to hear. An absolutely phenomenal Good Shepherd, with Bobby singing back up and Marc leading the charge, was followed by an intensely resonate Easy to Slip early on in Ratdog's set. The smoldering wooden sounds pouring off that stage were so very rich, so very full. it was an all-star, ten point A number 1 acoustic wonder jam! This is what it's all about folks, friends, new and old, getting together to share the groove.

Chris Bertolet

Technically, I could get away with calling the Big Cypress NYE celebration the most memorable show for me of the year 2000 (or any other year for that matter), but I'm afraid all I could do is diminish it...I've said way too much already. So, by default, I'd have to say that the Garage a Trois/Oysterhead double bill gets my vote. I understand it didn't meet some folks' expectations, but I can hardly imagine what they were listening to. For me, the Oysterhead debut was chock full of hair-raising moments, p lenty of gutsy improv, and to my pleasant surprise, some inspired songwriting. Indulge me with a runner-up, though, which would be my first Soulive show. What a revelation!

Dean Budnick

Without question my favorite night of music had to be Jammys. Part of it was the satisfaction of watching something we had worked on for so long finally come to fruition. Part of it was hanging out with some very entertaining, talented folks, many of whom I hasn't seen for some time. Part of it was the opportunity to honor notable performers and recordings while casting a positive light on the scene. Above all though it was a night of music, one that will remain with me for some time.

Briefly, other cool moments: Les Claypool with Weir, Wasserman, etc at the Gathering, The Slip at Scullers, Deep Banana Blackout on Jam Nation (first live band on Jam Nation, first time I saw the group with Hope), my moe.down/Strangefolk Garden of Eden weekend, multiple ABB summer shows (in particlar "Mountain Jam" and "Jessica,") my final Phish for some time at Tweeter Woods, the One For Woody Benefit.

Anthony Colineri

Phish 9/30/00 Thomas & Mack, Las Vegas, Nev.

Ahhh, Las Vegas, what a great place. It has that good old fashion down to earth household flavor everyone looks for in a casino.

Don't get me wrong, the first set of this show was very sweet, even featuring a Walfredo and Curtain With, two firsts for me. But the second set is definitely what makes this show my favorite and most memorable of the year. The set started off with the crowd singing happy birthday to Trey, and we pulled it off really well. Timber Ho! came crashing down on my head and I knew things would never be the same after that. ACDC was great as always, and then I received my fi rst Forbins>Mockingbird. The story couldn't have fit more perfect for the setting. This was my last Phish show until they come back from their indefinite hiatus, and the Gamehendge story Trey was describing definitely had some closure to it. It just fe lt right, and I realized I couldn't have missed this show if I tried. The timing was too good. Mockingbird was as beautiful as I've ever heard on tape, and the middle section was perfectly in sync with Kuroda's light show. A Day in the Life was fitting and somehow it tied the entire set together, wrapped up in a nice little gift to take home and enjoy.

Well, the band came back for an encore, ripped open the gift, and destroyed any hope of the remainder of the evening being normal. Emotional Rescue was pretty solid with a sick vocal chant at the end. I've never heard them end the song this way, it sounded really bizarre. As the song ends, I see that Trey is up to his old jedi tricks, swaying his guitar over his head, trying to find that perfect pitch to send me into complete craziness. As he is working his way to the point of frenzy, I see Mike joining in on the action. This is Mike we are talking about; the bass player who rarely speaks or moves during a show, let alone lift his guitar over his shoulders. So, here he is, slowly raising his bass over his head, with the look of concentration only Mike can obtain. This is where the scene got a bit odd. Mike and Trey raised their guitars to a peak, lowered them down ha lfway, and started to march towards each other repeatedly, crossing paths with their guitars and adding tremendous feedback to this disturbing sound. Page and Fishman were busy banging away at their instruments during this display of madness, each wearing a decorative hat put on by their bandmates, and then each other's hat taboot. Eventually, it was time for the two jedis to square off and chase each other around the stage in a classic western shoot out, except we are in the year 2000, not 1885, and thes e guys forgot their spurs at home. Mike shoots Trey with his guitar, then resurrects him from the dead. Oh no, look out Mike, Trey is coming, and he gets Mike in the back. Finally, Mike and Trey ended "Phish Theatre" by entangling themselves in this bizar re dance where they were being whisked away by a storm, throwing each other in a circle of fury until they vanished from the stage.

This is one of those moments at a concert where I didn't know what I saw. Was it a song? A dance? A play? Insanity? Finally I chalked it up to all of the above and just lived with it. My temporarily final Phish moment was a doozy, to say the least. I couldn't have asked for anything more.

Chris Gardner

Against the backdrop of Austin's pale shadow of New Orleans's annual Bacchic frenzy, Keller Williams tied strings to the packed house at the Mercury Room on 6th Street in Austin and whimsically played puppeteer. The audience was variously rapt, bewildered, jubilant, dumbfounded, and flat flippin' out. While many in the crowd seemed to know of Keller, few seemed prepared for him. He hit them with the mouth flugel, kicked in the loop, dropped the semi-beatbox on them, harmonized the loop, strode to the bass and slapped down the bottom loop, lay a rhythm track, gave it a solo piggyback, stepped back did a little dance n' straight giggled.

In 27 years, I have not yet seen it all, but I have seen a bit. I once saw a man juggle thirteen full grown pigs. I saw a woman lift a mid-size sedan and spin it like a basketball. I saw a child on foot out run a leopard. I saw a whitetail deer drive a pick-up truck.

Even if all of the above had happened, none of it would have prepared me for what I saw March 3, 2000 at the Mercury Room in Austin, TX.

Rob Johnson

I would have to say the final Phish show at Shoreline was truly a religious experience for me. The uncertain nature of the band's future seemed to help me truly be "in the moment" and I savored every note, every segue, every solo. The same sense of finality that made this show a sad experience for some encouraged me to suck every drop of happiness out of it that I could, and I walked out of this show literally jumping for joy. The fact that, after six years and 20 shows, I finally got to hear Tweezer probably didn't hurt :)

Many people have complained that there weren't any special guests at the last show, but that didn't bother me in the least. All I can say to that is that if Bob Weir singing El Paso on 10/6 did more for you than the Twist/2001/Tweezer combo on 10/7, then you and I are very, very different people, my friend. Others have noted that none of the jams were of epic length. No hour-long Tweezer or Jibboo here. However, I thought that one of the strengths of this show was how incredibly tight and concise the band was. David Bowie is a good example. This was not the longest, or weirdest, or most unusual David Bowie I have heard. It was the most INTENSE, though. For the first time in my Phish experience, I saw a show that had no weak moments, no songs when I was tempted to go to the bathroom, no filler of any kind, and I listen to the CDs almost daily.

An honorable mention goes out to the funky METERS, the best club-level live band in the known universe, for the amazing show they played on October 21st at Variety Playhouse in Atlanta.

Bob Makin

Deep Banana Blackout and Bernie Worrell & the WOO
Warriors, Thanksgiving weekend, Irving Plaza.

It was nice to see new WOO Warrior/former DBB vocalist Jen Durkin pass the torch to new DBB singer Hope Clayburn and to see influential Rock and Roll Hall of Famer Bernie Worrell of P-Funk fame given an I'm-not-worthy bow from all of Deep Banana. This show was as funky as one possibly could get. I had a blast bopping my brains out to both bands, particularly when Durkin and Worrell joined Deep Banana.

Dan Morrell

Al DiMeola 2/23/00 - Ram's Head Tavern - Annapolis, Maryland

While this may not have been the biggest show I've ever went to, it is probably the most memorable live music experiences I've ever had. DiMeola, who gained early fame with Chick Corea's fusion coalition, Return to Forever, has long been one of my favorite guitarists since I first heard his work with Paco De Lucia and John McLaughlin (AKA The Trio). Even though DiMeola is considered a living legend, it would be hard to tell by the venue he was playing in. The Ram's Head Tavern was a little bit lacking in space and seating, but it didn't take anything away from the performance. DiMeola played two sets of beautiful music, enthralling the crowd with his unbelievably quick runs on his Ovation. The absolute highlight was the encore. I had been hoping that DiMeola would play something from Friday Night in San Francisco, one of my favorite albums of all time, but I figured he would end it with another newer tune. I nearly lost it when he began to play the first couple notes of "Mediterranean Sundance." A gorgeous composition that was played with real intensity that night. It would be hard to imagine a better music experience I had this year.

Ira Pasternack

Throughout the year 2000, I saw more music than in any year in my life. In fact, I probably saw 2 to 3 times as many shows as I'd ever seen in a single year, as a result of the fact that I quit my job in April and the freelance work I replaced my job with aloud me to stay on the road a lot. This included double digits in Phish, Phil and Friends, and Disco Biscuit shows, as well as dozens of assorted other shows. (A bit obsessive? Probably. Will I ever see that many shows again in a year? Hopefully. :)

My most memorable live show of the year 2000 - not an easy task to choose, given that I saw about 100 shows this year. I saw some incredible music this year, and there are at least a half dozen shows at the top. Picking one would be a bit of a toss up. Th at is, it would be a toss up if I had not seen the Phish show on May 23 at the Roseland Ballroom. This show stands out for several reasons:

1. The quality of the playing: The playing on its own places this show among the best I saw this year. Whether you were there, or just looked at the setlist, and/or heard the show on tape, it is hard to deny that this was an excellent Phish show.

2. The rarity of the show: This was a special occasion, the smallest public Phish show in the U.S. in years. Even if we were somewhere in the middle of nowhere, the relatively small venue would have been very special for the band and the fans. But in the middle of New York City, the size of the show was even more special.

3. The vibe from the crowd: Everyone in the room had gone through a lot (most slept out all night just a few days earlier) to get tickets, and everyone was in the highest of spirits, feeling incredibly excited and/or lucky to be there.

4. I did not expect to be there: I had not been able to get a ticket, but I felt so satisfied from seeing the previous two shows (at Radio City Music Hall) that I didn't really care. I found out that a friend had gotten me onto the guest list, at 4 PM the day of the show.

Overall, this combination of factors makes 5-23-00, Phish at Roseland Ballroom, my most memorable show of the year.

Paul Pearson

Hartman Festival II-~9500' near Fairplay CO. Solid rain for hours, nuclear hot dogs, makeshift PA, dangerous wind/tent/rain combinations, two days without sleep, Jan Lenard from Stir Fried jamming with Strange Pleasures at 5:00 AM, the cartoon sound of the toms at sound check at 45oF, Buddy Cage and Stir Fried ripping up a "Turn on Your Lovelight" with 50 super cool people grinning from ear to ear, the road trip, the crew, Chataqua and their crew…it was a weekend campout in the mountains that turned into a motto- "Make It Happen." For a picture and a taste of what will happen at a different site this year, check out www.spanishladyranch.com.

Chip Schramm, co-south and southeast editor

For my best of 2000, I have to go back to St. Louis,. Missouri to one of the neatest old theaters you can see a show in, the American. Sure, the American Theater has gotten a little run down over the years, but the acoustics are so great and that balcony leans way out almost over the stage… I've never seen a bad show there or anything close to it in the American. When Ben Harper and the Innocent Criminals played a show there in September, I drove up from Memphis with some friends to see him for the first time. DJ Logic set a nice tone to open the show, playing for a very diverse crowd. The one thing that really struck me was that they all had such a tremendous respect for the music. There was very little talking in the crowd during songs and everyone seem ed to be really tuned in to what was being played onstage. For someone only casually familiar with his music, I was swept up in power of his playing as well as his message. Switching guitars on almost every other song, he worked the slide guitar blues lin es as well as acoustic reggae songs rooted in the Marley tradition.

The moment of silence throughout the building when he came out to address the crowd for the first encore was impressive. He had the crowd on a string without even really trying. Harper rewarded the sold-out crowd for with a brand new song and did a cover of a Led Zeppelin song as well during the 5-song encore. He preached and sang the gospel in an open and non-threatening way. It was one of those nights where you really just had to be there. I never got to catch Harper play with Gov't Mule, but I can see why they would play so well together. The Innocent Criminals deserve the billing as well. They all stood out and shined as musicians quite impressively at various points in the evening. Perhaps the one thing that sealed the evening for me was getting to s ee two friends of mine who had gotten engaged at a Ben Harper concert previously, finally get to meet Ben and the band. Great nights like that when everything just comes together remind me that music is a magical thing that can't be matched.

Lee Seelig

I have heard so many good things about Bela Fleck and the Flecktones and in 2000 I finally got a chance to see them at The Orpheum Theater in Boston, MA. The sheer weirdness of this band and their ridiculous talent blew me away. Victor Wooten left my jaw hanging to the floor. I saw so many shows in 2000 as part of my job and this was one show I went to purely as a fan. The Flecktones did not disappoint.

David Shulman

I have to say the most memorable year 2000 show for me was the 4-7-00 SCI American Theater show, St. Louis, MO. Why was that show picked? Well, it was a classic low expectations/incredible results scenario. Much like my first Phish show (8-16-93) at the very same venue, I attended without any expectations at all of what to expect. Much like my first Phish show I was sent into musical bliss….and left only with the feeling of "where have I been the last few years". Unfortunately there is only one opportunity to see a band for the very first time…and of course from that point on one can't help but to have expectations regarding the show. One thing I do know, whether it be this year, the next, or even several years down the road, is I will have the same feeling once again.

Barry Smolin

My most memorable live experience of 2000 was undoubtedly the Jammy Awards at Irving Plaza. And I'm not just saying this because I won an award! To me it represented an arrival of the scene, a culmination of sorts, a celebration of this tremendous flowering of the American grassroots underground, a movement destined for bigger things, but without compromise, without succumbing to the homogenization and dilutions often necessary to gaining a wider audience. What I saw on that stage, and heard emanating from it, was a trove of serious music for the mind, body, and spirit, spread across a dazzling variety of styles and genres. The jam scene is on the verge of a significant evolution, and the Jammy Awards ceremony captured this transition with remarkable clarity. The very premise of the musical proceedings, young bands paying tribute to their mentors and predecessors, signaled the underlying purpose of the evening. It was a night of looking backward and forward simultaneously, an acknowledgement of the cross-pollination that has always fueled the best exploratory rock and roll. Although all of the bands that night delivered sizzling hot performances, I would say

I was most taken with two outfits in particular. First, The New Deal, whom I hadn't heard before that night, locked my head in a full-nelson and kicked my ass into astonishment and paralysis. Their tribute to Bill Monroe evoked just the sort of skewed wit and bastard sacrilegious mutancy that I crave. The other profound movement of the night, for me, was the appearance of The Disco Biscuits with Les Claypool sitting in on bass. Their conflation of Have A Cigar and Tomorrow Never Knows delved beyond the form we call "medley" and plumbed its way into a depth of earth-core intensity that made me shiver even as I dripped with sweat. When Bisco finished I turned to the dude dancing next to me and wondered aloud, "What was THAT?!" His answer was concise and true: "The future," he said. They fucked my shit up in the best possible way. Both the Disco Biscuits and The New Deal are taking psychedelic music to its next logical headspace. I can't wait to hear what happens next!

David Steinberg