Since this is only the second month of Tape Cases, I figured it's worthwhile to point out that this a forum for you folks to discuss your favorite concert recordings and make suggestions to the rest of us. You don't have to write a full review; a couple words about a song or jam would be fine. Also, starting next month there will be a B and P offer extended to one reviewer who will be chosen at random (tip of the hat to Tony O.). For now it will be an analog offer, although hopefully it will include discs in the months to come. Now on to the business of the day...

Last month Chris Bertolet wrote a wonderful piece for his "Stuck in Normal" column, in this very magazine, about audience participation at Phish shows. It was certainly taken to heart by many phans and made waves on the Phish rmp. As someone who was fortunate enough to be at the first "Wilson" chant, the first GSW, and the second "Big Ball Jam", I've seen a lot of audience interactions come and go. Some were great, some were annoying, and some were just silly. But I'm proud to say that for years now my significant other, my friend Dave and I have been adding our own little spice to shows; I'd elaborate, but I'd hate to spoil the fun.

Anyway, Chris made a comment about concert recordings in his piece. It was just a single sentence, a passing phrase, but it gave me a great launching pad for the rant I was already planning. "No matter how crisp, using a recording to describe a Phish show is like using a handful of ashes to describe a forest fire." So many factors come into play at a concert to create the entire experience, things like weather, traffic, a great opener, a cold grilly, people talking, a smiling fan, history, the moon, everything^Å When you consider it in that way, a tape or disc is a pale reflection. But I've got to say that just as much as a concert is a whole experience, I find that tapes help complete the totality of my everyday life. Every morning I strap on my phones for my commute and strut my way to work. My tape collection is a soundtrack for my life, enhancing so many experiences, embedding places in my memory with pounding base lines and searing solos. I was nowhere near many of my favorite concerts. The Dead's second set from 6-22-88 took place over the course of a couple of years, driving down country roads to a train station in upstate New York, and that oh so sweet transition from "Wolfman's" > "Sally" from 4-2-98 took place on the escalator in Tower Records in Boston. These are memories that give me chills when I think of them.

I really think there is something magical about a favorite tape. It gathers more experiential baggage than a single concert can. It's through a recording that you become truly enamored with a song; it eventually magnifies the eventual concert experience, creating anticipation for those rockers and ballads that you have grown to love. Sometimes, albeit rarely, I find myself deep in a second set thinking "This'll be a great jam to have when I'm truckin' through the city." Something about the tangible repetition of a tape makes it seem more real than the actual concert experience. Part of that probably has to do with the fact that I easily get lost at concerts, my mind wandering to the far regions of space. Songs become more like journeys than just music. And while I'm a generally cheery kind of guy, the euphoria of a concert can create a truly surreal feeling. Ultimately I guess it's the totality of the concert experience that makes a given set seem unreal when it's happening. There is too much going in the way of emotion, physical exertion, sensory stimulation, memory and thought to possibly comprehend what is going. It is a true moment, when you are just living, and not comprehending, or even trying to comprehend. That act would only limit the experience by slicing it up into music and mood.

But then we're lucky enough to have recordings of the music that helped lead to those states of ecstasy. By running those soundtracks, we have the opportunity to look at those brief flashes of totality that keep bringing us back over and over. And when all the various pieces fall into just the right spots, linking up perfectly, and then a few notes, the exact notes, get pumped through your headphones, then maybe you'll be lucky enough to see the whole picture again. Only this time you're not at a show, you're in a traffic jam, at a library, in your bedroom, in the produce section, near the garden, at the gym, under a bridge...

Phish, Lemonwheel, 8-15-98, Set IV (The Ambient Set) (50 Minutes), Daud, ?

So since no one wrote about Phish this month, I thought I'd throw in my two sense about what I consider to be a very underrated set: the Ambient set from Lemon Wheel. At the actual show I was a bit too out of it to actually appreciate it; it was late, I was tired. But when I listen to it now, I think it's just a spectacular piece of music. The set runs about fifty minutes and is essentially one long jam, although it has approximately five distinct themes. In my mind the jam runs Dawn > Walk > Rest > City > Twilight. I listened to the tape on my way to work this morning.

Heading down the street, the Dawn section starts. It's delicate and quiet, and Page is heavy in the mix. The old man who sits outside his house all day is already there- an early start. The music is a stretch. That's not to say that it's musically challenging or difficult to follow; it actually feels like an early morning stretch; You are being gently awakened by the sun. A high moon I still out and a wash of birds moves across my field of vision, and right on cue the theme that's been lurking in the fringes solidifies. It's confident now and picking up pace. I just miss the train. As with any given Phish jam, the music doesn't so much disintegrate after a peak as break apart. Things fly off in different directions, both undermining the center and simultaneously defining it by its absence, like negative space.

A slight march develops, Mike thumping along and Trey skips along with Page at his heels. The guitar takes on a Trey noodle quality, but in the spaces between statements, Page swells up immediately. Fishman gets into the groove and begins to accent Mike with cymbal crashes. Then things fade into Mike moving at a good gate. Page adds tones here and there, but it is the Cactus that fully dominates the scenery. Trey also slowly eases into the picture making the vibe sound like a spaced out version of "Money". The music ebbs and flows, a great example of the ego less playing. Everyone adds to the amorphous creation, pulling and pushing slightly. The whole thing grows, and creepy organ sounds linger in the background. Trey noodles, and the music meanders. Hints of the original theme return around Jon's drumming and as Trey creates an inclined road, Jon shifts. He seems to be rotating around some idea but eventually he falls back to the familiar high hat. Likewise, Page takes to the organ for a brief moment, but ultimately opts for the heavy resonance of the piano. Blending perfectly with Mike and Trey- things take a heavy turn, grinding. But Trey eases into a bright build, Page following and egging him on. The train goes under the river and no classic release happens. Things break apart again, although underneath the feedback Fishman holds steady.

Mike begins the Rest section, again with Page filling in the moods. Things have slowed and a wood block keeps the rhythm at a lethargic pace. The groove is very pretty, essentially a low-end solo by Page. As he moves to the organ, Trey and Fish think about taking off, But Page returns to the ivory, his notes acting as glue.

It's time to switch trains and stepping out of the car, the City-scape rises. For the second time, Mike steps up and begins to drive. This segment is that deep ambient groove that could be pulled out of the recesses of any given "Ghost" or "Wolfman's" from 98, except for the conspicuous lack of any delay loops. Trey begins to act like himself, taking a distinct, albeit wandering lead. This is the only moment in the set where we see a glimpse of rock star Phish. The groove is at a nice head pace when I get on to the connecting train, and almost immediately things get pulled apart again, the Walk theme rising again, but not quite truly taking hold. Trey settles on top, skipping along, but Page continues to build until a full Walk is reestablished, heading down the road towards the City gates.

A series of extended and fluctuating "oooooo"s follows, a drifting feeling out of the City. Fish punctuates with popping wood blocks. The vibe floats along lightly, almost tangible, like a mist. Trey keeps repeating same theme over and over, directing things, but it is Fish who finally pushes through to the quiet tones that began the fifty-minute set. Just as the diminished crowd lights up a cheer, I climb out of the train station and into the first real brightness of the day. The set paralleled my commute almost exactly.

It is, in general, a quiet set, but when listened to closely, or even just repeatedly, the spontaneous construction and fine details shine through, making it a truly wonderful of a cool summer night in Maine. My recording is an analog from audience and of unknown generation. It has a little static, although there are plenty of A+ audience and FM tapes in circulation.

Blues Traveler 11/14/98 Oakdale Theatre, Wallingford, CT Set II
By Mark Sherrick

A: Alone > Hook > Hippie, Light In Her Eyes > Joker
B: NY Prophesy > Manhattan Bridge > Fucked Run > Mountains Win Again > Go Outside > Blister In The Sun > And Drive > Run Around > Maybe I'm Wrong > Hook

This set is extremely pleasing to my ears...and my mind, as I was there, and I sit back and remember how it was. It's a little bittersweet, because it was the last time I was able to see Bobby.... But it's a great set...so I'm still very happy. "Alone" > "Hook" > "Hippie"... all I can say is holy shit. A good 35 minutes of pure music...Popper and the boys at their best. I think the first half of Hook was put here, because Chan broke a string somewhere towards the end of the jam at the end of "Alone". Regardless, it was a very, very great way to open a second set. Then, they took a short 30-second break, and Brendan pounded out a short drum intro, and they launched into "Light". Its one of the new songs they were set to record for their upcoming (maybe not anymore) album. Up-tempo and bouncy, it's a great song to hear live. After a bit, the end of "Light" morphs into a cover of Steve Miller's "Joker." It's pretty obvious what song it is, but Traveler completely makes it their own...Popper tosses a couple teases in the middle of the song... "Leaving Las Vegas" and "Hang On Sloopy". Then, with a flip of the tape, you go back in time a little bit, revisiting part of the "Joker" after-jam...and it leads into my only problem with the set... "NY Prophesy"...it's not my favorite of songs, and it seems a little out of place in between the bouncy "Joker", and the slow and sweet "Manhattan Bridge". Nonetheless, it was a pretty good version. "NYP" melts into a long slow "Manhattan Bridge", which is a great instrumental, and a great little way to calm down. Suddenly, the end slides into the highly recognizable opening riff to "Run Around". Knowing what's coming, I grin and start laughing. "Run Around" is started, and with the first crash of Bren's tom toms, and a "what the fuck?" look from half of the crowd, descends into something dark and brooding, with Popper basically scowling the vocals into his microphone, and letting lose an absolutely evil harmonica solo. The harmonica run slows down and the band begins "Mountains Win Again". Such a great song to see live... Chan absolutely rips the solo, and Bob is smiling away because he always does when Traveler plays his song. "MWA" morphs into the perennial half-hour favorite, "Go Outside And Drive". This version is one of the best I've heard... stretches to about twenty/twenty five minutes, with a virtual cornucopia of teases, from Beck's "Loser", to War's "Low Rider", and back. About two thirds of the way through the song, Popper tosses in a full fledged "Blister In The Sun"... they run through about half of the song, and Popper does the guitar riff on his harmonica for a minute or two, before launching back into "GOAD". Live, in person, I was thinking^Åhere's the end of the set, but then I realized that they hadn't finished two songs. Sure enough, there came the second half of "Run Around". That led into one of my favorite songs of all time, "Maybe I'm Wrong". Great rocking version, (incidentally the last time this song was played before Bobby died) which led into a short flurry of drums, and the final verse of "Hook". No sooner than was the band finished with "Hook", did Popper spout "Thanks a lot, goodnight, you guys are great!" and the tape stops. (They did encore with "Imagine", but that wasn't on the tape).

by Dan Alford