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THE KITCHEN SINK - INSTALLMENT #3
A Column By Benjy Eisen

"Any Colour You Like"

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On 11/2/98 Phish covered "Dark Side Of The Moon" by Pink Floyd...in its
entirety.  This was in Utah.  That is not what this installment is
about necessarily, but it does discuss it.  Read on:
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I almost got kicked out of boarding school once. You see, I went to this posh little all-male prep-school called The Hill. It was nestled comfortably on an actual hill in downtown Pottstown, Pennsylvania; a ringer of tradition brimming with academic discipline and boiling with young wolf-pack blood - a couple hundred male teenagers dreaming of freedom beyond the palace walls...that is to say, mostly dreaming of girls. And music. There was always music. From the ivy-covered walls of the Chapel down through the Quad and into the dorms, there was music everywhere. Sometimes dismal, as during morning assemblies; sometimes vibrant as during Spring Flings where student bands played Grateful Dead and Neil Young while The Samples played the dining hall. In the spring time, Bob Marley would blast outside from dorm room windows.

My sophomore year, or "Fourth Form" as it were, I almost fell to the wrath of the iron-studded boot - I came "this close" to being dismissed. Expelled. Banished. Tooteloo. The lay of it went like this: Blues Traveler was bringing their rock n' road circus to nearby Gettysburg, PA and attendance, for me, was a matter of life and death. I simply had to go. So I came up with a nice little fable worthy of Tom Sawyer, or for that matter, Mark Twain. It was a well-crafted excuse, carved on-the-spot, that bought me a mid-week evening on which I didn't return until two in the morning. I almost got caught - but I didn't.

According to the school, I was having a mandatory and likably wholesome dining experience with family. According to history, as written on the stones of actual occurrence, I was at Gettysburg College in some putrid fraternity house drinking beers before waiting in line for the show. I ended up being close to the front row. Keep in mind that, although I was risking everything for this, it really was a matter of life and death. Nor was it anything unusual - countless other concerts which I played the odds in order to attend, all carried an equal amount of weight.

When I say it was a matter of life and death, I am only half exaggerating. I was not afraid of getting kicked out of prep school. I was afraid of missing the show. As John Popper towered in-front of me with all the weight of a mighty man, he sang:

   "Life I embrace you
    I shall honor and disgrace you
    please forgive if I replace you  
    you see I'm going through some pain.
    But now I see clearly 
    and the dawn is coming nearly
    and though I'm human and it's early  
    I swear I'll never forget again."

Under my breath, I took that very same oath.

Sure, as I said, the wager I had going carried consequence and certain misfortune. Misfortune that I did not care to experience and indeed wished fully to avoid. Still I had no choice. I wasn't worried about getting caught. I was worried about not seeing Blues Traveler. Thank god I wasn't into Phish yet or I would've had to come up with a dining-experience excuse that could last me a couple of weeks instead of one evening!

Certainly in the past few years I have bartered enough on Phish shows though and, just as the musical character of the shows may be elevated, so to were the risks given to higher stakes. I was betting at high-rolling tables now, risking not prep-school privileges but college credits...like the time I went to Lowell, MA in the midst of finals week...or the time I went to Binghamton, NY traversing through a blizzard of record destruction. They were worth it, every one.

"And all you touch, and all you see, is all your life will ever be."

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When Phish played on 10/31/98 at the Thomas and Mack Arena, they fulfilled their Halloween promise to don a musical costume and cover an entire album from another artist. The cover album would be but one of three sets performed that night, as tradition dictated. Fans flew from all over the country to Nevada so that they could witness a talented band interpret a classic album. They did not know what the album choice would be, but they did know that there would be an album covered.

As Phish would have it, the album this year was "Loaded" by The Velvet Underground. A lesser known selection perhaps, but an appropriate and fitting selection all the same. "Loaded" is an album, as songwriter Lou Reed quipped "loaded with hits." Looking back on it nearly thirty years after its release, it is impossible to deny its immense influence on the evolution of modern rock music. Naturally, the interpretation was stellar, blowing the album wide open and blowing minds open in the process. Phish had found a new plateau for music.

Two days later they did it again, this time covering Pink Floyd's "Dark Side Of The Moon". One of the best selling albums of all time, it is an album recognizable to virtually everyone, and highly regarded by just as many. Phish performed the album, close to verbatim, in front of a half empty audience in Salt Lake City, Utah. It was unannounced until its actual performance, and it came as a complete surprise. Some fans who had flown to Las Vegas were upset. Not all, but some. They had traveled great distance at great expense and sacrifice to see Phish cover an album and here, two days later, not only do they cover another album, but one whose selection is more palatable to the masses and well-known by all.

The fans in Utah, on the other hand, were stoked.

"Far away across the fields, the tolling of the iron bell, call the faithful to their knees, to hear the softly spoken magic spells."

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I believe that music has the power to heal, the capacity to nourish, the wisdom to reveal and the courage to reflect only what you wish to find. Music can not be taught, it can only be discovered. Those who do, well they have something real to hold onto. It is something that outlasts temporal existence, transcends the boundaries of religion and pierces the tender heart of human experience. It is orgasmic and it is all the pains of labor. It is both inner and outer. Music simply is.

When I first found out my father had cancer I took off for the Philadelphia Civic Center (12/28/94) and when, two years later he died of cancer I took off for Red Rocks '96. Both times I mourned through the celebration of song. Both times I came to the alter of the universe asking for strength and both times I was granted my wish.

I celebrated falling in love with a girl by taking her to a Phish show. I also tended the wounds of losing her by going to a Phish show. In clubs, music halls and arenas, I dance. And I dance so that in-life itself I may also dance just as carefree and graceful.

I don't know, call me a diehard, but I will live and die with music.

I do believe that music can make a difference. I've seen it happen.

From the little boy who sings himself to sleep while gunfire cackles outside, to the last words of an old man who said "I did it all for a song." From the teenage girls calling request lines singing the song of America The Broken Hearted, to the guys doing the breaking, singing rock and roll from pick-up trucks. I believe I too, did it all for a song. And well, if music can not save the world per-se, then it can at least change it. Even if it is just a little bit at a time. Even if it just starts with our own little corner.

The fact that Phish played "Dark Side of The Moon" in Utah is a testament to the glory and skill that one exceptional band possesses. But in the greater light of the sun, it was but one concert. One salvation for one evening. And sure, they will never play that again. Would you want them to? "The time is gone, the song is over" and after all, what made the event so unique was its sheer unpredictability. Music can be left-wing and it is good that it is. You see, when music happens, magic happens. But neither music not magic can ever expire just as they can never be still. They move on and play different songs. And I for one am thankful - it helps keep it real. It lets it Breathe. And it allows it to Speak To Us and to offer us Any Colour We Like.

"And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes, I'll see you on the dark side of the moon."

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Benjy Eisen held the first US Patent for Rice Krispies before abandoning it during the great Snap, Crackle and Pop Campaign of '43.

Copyright'98 - "The Toga Rogue" Publishing