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Downerman Revival



A favorite pastime of Phish fans is arguing about the period which exemplifies the band's heyday. This thread has gone so far as to grace the pages of this fine publication over the past couple of months, and it's obviously familiar grist for the mill at rec.music.phish. As with any subjective obsession, the right to declare who's right can be claimed by any and all who venture into the argument.

So I'll tell you now that Phish's finest period was 1993. This was the year the band broadened the definition of the Jam from extended Type I to Type II. It was the year that brought us the Roxy melange on 2/20, the Gunnison YEM on 3/14, and the 3/22 Gamehenge in Sacramento. The entire summer tour was brilliant. 1993 brought us August - the best single month of Phish ever, the summer heat combining with the band's first real foray into the amphitheatres and sheds. During August we received the Tinley Antelope, the Portland Jesus Left Chicago, the first Red Rocks show with the Divided Sky opener as the thunderclouds moved out over the plains of Denver, and what I consider to be one of the finest 20 minutes of Phish ever, the Murat Bathtub Gin > Ya Mar on 8/13. 1993 saw the Peaches En Regalia opener in DC, the first show after Frank Zappa's death, and the second set at the CCCC on 12/30.

I saw 12 shows that year. I had gotten into Phish in 1990, when the band was playing weekday shows in dives in San Francisco, and in the intervening years I saw them rise not only as a musical phenomenon, but also as a cultural icon. When rec.music.phish was being considered as an entity, there were only three other rec.music bands - the Beatles, the Grateful Dead, and Bob Dylan (every other band was in the alt.fan area of Usenet). The Powers That Were asked, "Why should we allow this rinky-dink band that we've never heard of to take a seat at the table with these other legends?" The vote was apparently close, but rmp did come into being, and the Phish Digest morphed into one of Usenet's most popular sites. I began to see patterns emerging in rmp, patterns that coincided with the annual migration of college students. Every September and October we would be besieged with the same set of questions, so much so that I coined the acronym WATSIYEM?: What Are They Saying In You Enjoy Myself? (And hats off to Charlie Dirksen for the other enduring term from that period, Lamehenge.) The influx of new posters to the Digest provided a wealth of material for my acerbic tongue and fingers; was it Einstein or Zappa who observed that the only substance more common than hydrogen in the Universe is stupidity? There were tapes to be spun for newbies, rare hoarded soundboards to be liberated for the masses, lyrics to be transcribed and chords to be figured out. There was time to be timed and there were shows to be seen. It was an exciting time to be part of the burgeoning Phish scene.

Considering the fact that in 1993 most of my entertainment dollar was spent on Phish, all of my vacations were to locales where Phish was playing, and I was a pseudo-prominent fixture in the online world of Phish appreciation, is it fair of me to say that 1993 was Phish's best year? Of course it is! I readily admit that my opinion is colored heavily by those non-musical factors. But that doesn't change the fact that the music, which after all is the whole point to this argument, reached its apex seven years ago. Don't believe me? Check the tapes; look at your own collection, pull out your top ten, and see how many of them fall into that magical year. What's that you say? You don't have any shows from before 1998? That can be remedied, if you're willing to follow some simple directions.

But I've been seeing a lot of posting that smacks of sour grapes. For those who are fable-challenged, the term denotes something that that another person has that you want, and your creation of an explanation that makes that something less desirable. "I don't want those grapes; I bet they're sour." "I wasn't around in 1993 to experience Phish, but I bet it sucked anyway compared to the last tour." Well, my friend, that just ain't the case; trust my opinion and my experience, because I was there and I know. You can gripe about the fact that you were only twelve in 1993, and your mom wouldn't let you go to the show with your older brother. Or you can claim that you were busy following the Grateful Dead, and that you weren't going to be suckered into a band of vacuum-cleaner-sucking poseurs. Whatever. 1993 was da bomb, that's all there was to it.

And how do I know that there wasn't a better year than 1993? Well, while they were writing some very creative music in the 80s, there isn't really a year in that decade where the live show took off like it did in the 90s. 1990 and 1991 were the years of Machine Gun Trey, high-energy and straight-ahead jamming, but pretty conventional by the high standards the band has since defined. 1992 saw many new songs and foreshadowed the free-wheeling Type II jamming that was to come later. 1994 introduced the concept of the Golden Hose, chiefly through the incredible Tweezers at the Bomb Factory (5/7), Bangor (11/2), and Bozeman (11/28). 1995 was a fine year, though the decline was beginning with Trey's reliance on what my friend Dave calls "goop": the use of guitar effects to substitute for substance (like a nice jam). 1996 began the decline: hippie trance music. Not coincidentally, my own engagement with all things Phish began to weaken in 1996, and by the end of that year, I could have given a rat's heinie about what the band was up to. I saw a show or two in 1997, and was underwhelmed. I saw the Phillmore show in 1998, followed by the Halloween shows, and throughout them I remember thinking, "I sure am glad I saw these guys when they could jam." The 1999 Shoreline shows restored my faith that they had returned to more familiar pastures (those that appealed to me more, anyway), and as the year 2000 chugs on, I find myself thinking about what it would take to see those shows in Japan...

And so what do you have? One guy and his opinions. A guy who was part of a scene in 1993, who says that 1993 was the best year. A guy who dropped out of that scene in 1996, and who dismisses that Phish could have made any good music in the past four years. The lesson? It's all subjective, and you can pick any year you like as your favorite.

Of course, you'll be mistaken if you pick any year other than 1993, but that's your choice.

DM


DownerMan also met several of his best friends in 1993, as a result of Phish, and would like to give a shout out to his homies jtr and vogtm.

 

 

 

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