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Mid-Atlantic
Regional Report
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Edited by Anthony Coloneri
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Hello! In
This Issue:
The
Rype Band By Phil Toner As the second band on a three band bill on a Tuesday night, The Rype band showed the crowd at the Grape Street Pub that any night is a good time to get on down. Having just come from a show at a state college (3 of the four members of Rype Band had just played a show opening for reggae legend Burning Spear as the back up band for West African guitarist Lansana Kouate), the Rype Band played some serious grooves for a surprisingly large Tuesday night crowd. Mixing groovy folk rock tunes with reggae hip hop jams, The Rype Band played a jamming, diverse hour and a half set. This band is hard to categorize because of the kind of music they play, seeming to take more influence from 70's R&B, Hip hop, and dub reggae then the Grateful Dead or Phish, yet they have that kind of groovy uptempo rock sound that lots of jam bands use to get the crowd spinning. Unlike most jam bands, the Rype Band tends to keep the songs short, relying on tight arrangements and moving seamlessly from song to song. They only paused for a moment when the lead guitar player switched to bass and the bass player got on the mic to do some fly rhyming, getting the whole crowd moving. The bouncers did all they could to keep several enthusiastic dancers from jumping up on stage during one of the hotter reggae numbers. Coming from upstate NY, the Rype Band is definitely headed in the right direction.
Fat
Mama, Lake Trout, Jive Talkin Robots, the New Deal By Phil Simon Ever since I was a teen, there has been one place that existed in the hearts and minds of everyone who loved Jam music. A place that our mind wandered when we were feeling down, missing the swirling of a Garcia lick, dreaming of the colors projected onto giant mushrooms at an Allman Brothers concert. This place is the tiny place in the soul where the spirit of Jam music resides when it isn't warming the essence of our soul. This place is the Wetlands Preserve. The Wetlands has reached such mythic proportions for a reason. It is the training ground for the modern Jamband warriors. A place where the mettle of these road dogs was first forged. Not only did the early greats of modern Jam music cut their teeth here: Blues Traveler, Phish, the Spin Doctors... but also the modern era, the third generation of Jam music is learning their skills in this room- from the Disco Biscuits to Deep Banana Blackout- Percy Hill to the Slip. So it was with great excitement that I set out from my father's home in cozy Fairfield, CT. down Interstate 95 to make my first pilgrimage. I came all the way from Oregon for this show, and others on the Northeast run of the Jive Talkin Robots tour. Three thousand miles, 10 tanks of gas, 56 brownies, and every ounce of energy that I had was required to propel myself, my Bullmastiff mix, my ever-patient girlfriend, and my sturdy 1984 Subaru wagon over the mountains and through the smog to this holy city of my musical existence. And this show would be a perfect baptism into the cauldrons of Jamband life in the East. No this was no small stop-off but a potpourri of Northeastern music- a sampler of the newest disciples. I met up with the band early in the evening- they were atwitter with anticipation for the nights events. I cruised the club meeting up with as many people as I knew- the guys in Fat Mama were loose and excited-and the guys in the New Deal were pleasant to meet. There seemed to be a smattering of confusion as the bands sorted who was playing when- and whether or not there were enough monitors to go around. For those who have not been- the Wetlands is a large club with two playing space in Manhattan- Tribecca more specifically. The upstairs has a large bar directly inside the door, with a seemingly separate dance hall partitioned from the front entrance and vending area. This provides a private yet open atmosphere for those reveling in the music and dancing- with no fear of beer bumpage or meat market interference. The dance floor is very wide and wraps around the stage, yet is surprisingly shallow- only 100 feet or so between the stage and the taper section. Back toward the front door, past the VW microbus where merch is swingin'- there is a stair case leading down into the dungeon-a converted basement with another bar and stage area. This double environment gives this venue a unique edge- it is both a large dance hall and an intimate club. The night was subdivided- with Lake Trout and Fat Mama alternating sets (2 each) upstairs- and the Robots and the New Deal sharing duties downstairs. As it was my girlfriend's first trip into NYC, we took a walk with the dog and some friends through Tribecca, stopping for treats and wondering at the towering monstrosity that is the World Trade Center. For most people, Jamband music evokes images associated with nature, but tonight's show was set well within the industrial bustle of NYC. We got back to catch Fat Mama's 1st set finale- a moody piece that set down slabs of texture. Horns mixed with the spins of the DJ sent out bursts of energy- full of color and emotion. The music was a little dark and heavy- yet contained a spriteliness that reveals the youth and splendor of the band. These guys are one part Mahavishnu and one part Bitch's Brew. I had seen them for the first time the night before at the Living Room in Providence, though I'd been listening to them for 6 months. I was impressed with their ability to build ambitious pieces- not satisfied with the thump and hump of ordinary funk. These guys are out to paint murals, not silly little landscapes or portraits. They are ambitious, and seem to be reaching for a swirling consciousness that just eludes their grasp. They are not for the light-hearted. But if light-heartedness was the mood you were seeking- you need only travel down the 2 dozen steps to the Lounge. The New Deal had the room packed and thumping. Dreads flying, sweat dripping, heads puffing- this three piece from Toronto had the room in the palm of their hands. Keyboards, bass, and drums weaving what they dubbed Live Improvisational House Music. I had discovered by seeing the Disco Biscuits warm up for the Robots in Eugene last spring that techno music is not solely owned by Raver DJ's, who spin their music from the records of others. This music is grown organically, before your eyes with the groove nurtured and developed with a patience not previously evident in Jam music. There is very little noodling here, with the doodly-doo's of guitar bands banished away to another land. The point is not the jam, but the groove- the nuances and continuity of the relationship between the instruments. The New Deal seems to revel in this style, building and swaying within it- finally popping and breaking out into the light like a new born child swimming into the air of a foreign world. It was quite obvious that they will be shooting up the ranks of the bands here in the Northeast. I did not catch much of Lake Trout. But I was pulled in both directions by this band. First off, the drummer is excellent, with chops and speed, and a grip of this techno beat that I hadn't seen before. There was an electronic quality to the band that made me uneasy at first, thinking that there sound was a bit synthetic. But, having read about them as the Groove of the Month several months ago, I felt that I must be wrong. I was pleasantly surprised when they busted out vocally, with the lead singer having a confidence and dynamic range that puts fellow jambands to shame. There is a maturity to their songs, a self awareness that there is life beyond the jam and the groove, and that the mortal song structure exists with purpose. The songs were tight and intentioned, yet had the looseness and meandering quality that we've come to expect from Home Grown music. I didn't catch enough of their set to really understand, but my curiosity is piqued to the point where I will see them again, of that I am certain. While Lake Trout was winding down upstairs, the point of my presence was just beginning in the Lounge. Jive Talkin Robots were sweeping off the dust of the road and tuning up their spirits to show NYC what's been happening in Oregon. They opened with a spirited and energetic Rhodes Trip. Joe Cunningham let free a solo that alternated between honk and holler- bending and wrenching his horn with an abandon usually characteristic of a show stopper- this within 2 minutes of their start. Gabe Johnson picked up immediately with a soaring guitar solo that showed his combined influences of the treetops of the Pacific Northwest and the gritty underbelly of his native Philadelphia. The set continued the education of the new droidoids. I was pleasantly surprised to see a few faces from Oregon popping into the room to see if it was true- their favorite Northwest band had made the trek across country to the big city. Unfortunately, the Robots were limited by the sound system in the room, and thus could not provide vocal tunes. But songs like the wistful and longing Peter, and the brand new song by bassist Tom Nunes impressed the crowd. This piece, entitled Hobbes, contained a bass solo that showed everyone that these guys are truly talented. The Robots continued with Container- a song that showcased their own ability to install the groove. All of the bands exhibited this new mixture of Jazz and Funk and techno- each to a different extent. So the resulting music fell between the jazz tones of Fat Mama to the House stylings of the excitable New Deal. Five years ago, the notion that the Jamband scene could house these diverse concepts was ambitious, but these four bands were able to integrate and infuse their music with new sounds, styles, and timbres. As I often am once I've had a large sampler, I was eager to discover the deeper truths of each band that I had tasted, longing for the complete meal instead of just an appetizer. So, I left the club itching for more- and yet my watch said it was 2 AM, and the anxious wagging of my dog in our parked car helped me to realize that it had been a long night. One that I would not soon forget. So it was back to the highway, and a period of hibernation before the show at the Recher Theater, where my organic techno education would continue with the Disco Biscuits and Jive Talkin Robots the next week...
The
First Pirate's Ball By John Smartic I: Lester's Poem, San Jose, Rhythm of The Road, Lonesome Road Blues, All Blues, Open Your Eyes, Little Hands> Kashmir II: Exodus, *Octopus' Garden, *Under African Skies, *Down Under, Pirates (Set started and each successive song in this set began with a Lester poem telling a story about the SCI Pirates and their journey on the high seas. Songs by Marley, Beatles, Paul Simon, Men At Work, SCI. The Boys were in Pirate costumes the entire show and the stage was set up like a ship - w/ a skull and crossbones backdrop, captain's wheel at the front of stage, etc.) III:
Happy B'day Jon O, Land's End> **Best Feeling> Remington Ride, Water,
Jellyfish > Land's End > Restless Wind It's
really quite hard All
Hallows Eve Not
looking for booty It
was the last show of fall
A
Musical Journey: Prelude By Dan Alford Lying naked and half-conscious in the pre-dawn hours, strange thoughts drift by, unbidden. A different experience than the wash of melting mind that drowns you before sleep, these entities rise up somehow more distinct and individual, passing by at a safe distance. But every now and again one strays so close that it blinds your vision to everything else; it is less like a thought than a person met, someone who needs to be addressed. It could be a long lost memory, the prodigal son returned, or a dark brooding anxiety, like the nefarious "I've got too many bills to pay," or "what was I thinking," or it could be a serene smile that absolutely charges you with life. But sometimes a less forceful, less obvious thought, seen from a distance, can have a quietly profound effect. Lying naked and half-conscious in the pre-dawn hours, complacent and unattached, I heard, "you're going on a journey." A journey- a chance to learn something, to see what I've never seen before, and even better, to see for the first time that which I've seen a million times before. Such opportunities seemed, at one time, to be all around; every walk down to the train tracks was a journey, every afternoon run up the mountain, every drive in the car was a journey; not a trip, but a journey. Somewhere along the way, though, the importance was drained from such events. I never quite figured out what happened. It was probably one of two things. First, and probably most likely, I became numb. I stopped paying attention to the subtle lessons that the world has to offer. Things that had previously screamed with symbolic importance, now passed by with noticed, but hushed, tones. I was less thrilled at the sight of a hawk sitting at the side of the road; I was no longer sure it was there to say something to me. Part of it had to do with becoming more immersed in the dealings of people. That's not to say that I had become a jaded, cold person, far from it. I became much more compassionate toward people, more concerned with their problems and the trials of their lives. In being more concerned with others, you necessarily become less focused on yourself. I was no longer focusing exclusively on my own development, and my journeys no longer showed a world that was a reflection of my own ego. I was a much smaller creature than I had been. Seminal to this change was the second factor, my discovery of Buddhist philosophy. I don't want to spend any large chunk of time talking about the details, or even the major points, of Buddhism, but suffice it to say that I learned that all my problems stemmed from my ego, from my desire to satiate myself. In leading myself down a new path, a middle road of compassion and wisdom, I wandered farther and farther away from the road I had traveled, a road of power and electricity. Consider it as the difference between a wild, fiery jam and some deeply settled mesmerizing funk jam; I'm engaged immediately in the music, feeding it and feeding off of it, or I'm overwhelmed by the music, mucking around in something that is much bigger than I am. Lying naked and half-conscious in the pre-dawn hours, I knew immediately what my journey was. Over the next nine weeks I have at least one concert every week. Music, the music I listen to anyway, is exploratory. It takes me places. A single song can be a trek into the cavernous recesses of the mind, or a wonderful frolic in flowered fields. An entire set can be exhausting, a trip across entire worlds, or even galaxies, or through time. Music is most certainly a journey, one that is pregnant with potential. Lying naked and half-conscious in the pre-dawn hours, I thought about the upcoming journey: concerts in arenas, concert halls, theaters, clubs, bars and one big one in a swamp. Yeah, it was a journey all right, a chance to refocus myself, to recapture the sense of growth and development that I lost. These aren't just concerts, nights of fun and great music. These are opportunities to stretch, to reach out and find something new, or, as I sort of said, to find something that I had all along. As a primer for the upcoming shows, I was going to see a free concert by Sri Chinmoy in Central Park on Saturday afternoon. It seemed somehow extremely appropriate that this would kick off the run to New Year's, seeing as that passing thought had lent a kind of heavy spiritual bent to the upcoming shows. See, Sri Chinmoy's philosophies of strength, peace, and compassion were extremely influential on one of the greatest guitar players of all time, Carlos Santana. Anyone who has been to a Santana show knows the charisma and energy that the man has. He is an extremely positive, bright, down right magical person, a conduit for things bigger than an individual in a crowd, or an individual on stage. To hear his spiritual mentor speak and play was a good way to start my own journey. Also the sitar is a wonderful instrument. While I was in India, my roommate Tom played his often in the evenings, and its hypnotizing vibrations always lulled me to sleep. And in fact, ragas (traditional sitar songs) have some of the best jam potential of any song; they are essentially improvisational pieces that start with a theme, wander forever, and eventually return to the theme. A more appropriate preface to weeks of jams than the oldest jams would be hard to find. So I made my to the park just before the event began. Got a flower, pink carnation. The stage was set up at the base of a hill and speakers were strangely placed, creating an echoy sound that actually enhanced all of the instrumental pieces, but made the singing difficult to make out; not really a bad thing as I'll explain. Sri Chinmoy played a variety of his own compositions, by himself, on a variety of instruments, although he favored flutes and strings. (Sadly, there would be no sitar.) The pieces were generally eerie, with a lot of quietness and usually one brief moment where things swelled. In between some songs, devotees would sing songs in front of the stage. If the song was in English, it was sure to have horrendously cheesy lyrics. The third song was in honor of the Park Commissioner and incorporated singing his title and name over and over. That was the first moment of mass exodus, and those who left cannot be faulted. It was cold and windy out and if you just showed up out of pure curiosity, I could see leaving. So the music was weird, very minimalist instrumentals or embarrassingly hokey choral pieces. But what was really cool was that right from the start this quietness settled over a portion of New York City. The field was right on Fifth Avenue, but somehow the cars didn't seem to make much noise; sure every now and then sirens would screech by, but for the most part it was quiet. People were silent, dozing off, meditating, watching, or just thinking. Between performances, there was silence. To start the afternoon, Sri Chinmoy stood silently. Do ya wanna know what I learned this afternoon? So I sat there and meditated for a bit, seemed to come to just before the end of songs. Mostly, though, I thought. And sat. I just sat. For those who don't know, zazen means "just sitting". When I finally left, just before the end of things, I was definitely in that post-meditation daze, a state of vicarious lucidity. I got home and new Phil and Friends disks were waiting in the mailbox. So the journey's begun, a somewhat rocky start. As a concert experience Sri Chinmoy was kind of lame, but I did relax and relish the peace and quiet; in fact I guess I kind of took my first step towards finding something: quiet. Well, it's something to think about anyway. We'll see what happens next weekend. A
Musical Journey: Part I By Dan Alford So I spent time early in the week thinking about the value of silence. Being a country boy living in the big city, silence has always been import to me. I was re-treading that same old ground, and then one morning I remembered a comment that either Barlow or Matt Kelly made in the Relix Garcia tribute issue. It was something to the effect of, while the notes that Garcia played were incredible, it was the eternal silence between them that really stood out. Think oft that moment in the "Dark Star" from 2-13-70 when it's so quiet and Jerry just screeches out this line that feels like your entire central nervous system is being ripped out of your body. Or when a wave of notes ends and you unconsciously lurch forward into the void that's left. That very morning an English teacher at the school where I work brought in a pair of African drummers and a dancer for a short show at morning assembly. In a darkened gym, lit only by candle light, the master drummer sat in front of a group of high school students and played. Every now and then he would stop briefly and clap. The students responded right away, and when the beat was quiet, they clapped quietly. When it thundered, they roared. I was struck by the students' focus and the ensuing interplay. They were listening, really listening. And they could only do that by creating a deafening silence around the potent drum beat. Silence allows for that deep, intense listening that leads to the real interaction between performer and audience that people in the improv music scene value so highly. With those thoughts in mind, a pretty busy weekend arrived. There was literally too much music in the city. Friday night: Sex Mob, Zen Tricksters, and SCI. Saturday night: Galactic with the Dirty Dozen, and Zen Tricksters. Sunday night: Galactic with the Dirty Dozen, and moe. with DJ Logic and the Disco Biscuits. I reluctantly chose to skip Friday festivities in favor of rest and work, and was pumped for my first Galactic show on Saturday. Irving Plaza is a weird venue. It's always really dark and hot and smokey, but it also churns out some great shows. In particular, I've seen some awesome Tuna shows and a great night with Robert Hunter when Patti Smith sat in for some spoken word jams. When we got there the place was pretty empty, but within ten minutes, when the Dirty Dozen came on, it was starting to fill up. As Dave Schools recently said, "An instant way to get out of a shitty mood is to go and see The Dirty Dozen Brass Band play. I can't think of any higher praise for them. They're great guys, more than willing to come sit in us with night after night. It's such a blast." They've long been one of J.'s favorites, and they nailed down tune after tune in their hour long set. Extended solos and big fat drum beats were the theme for the set. A couple of songs had that creepy New Orleans sounds in excess. It's not creepy like a long dark Tweezer. It's more like a wild out of control party kind of crazy, the music that the minions of hell must dance to. I lost myself in the boogie multiple times, a great opener. I met a tape-trading friend during the set and we hung out talking during the break- always nice to see friends at a show I was surprised to see Professor Shuman and Radioactive (True World Order) take the stage when the screen went up. These guys sit in with Soulive fairly often, opening a show, or rapping late in the set, laying out the Soulive chant. Here they sat in for the first tune before leaving the quintet to absolutely burn down Irving Plaza with a super funk overload. By the end of the first song I was overwhelmed. Galactic absolutely rages! When the song ended, my immediate thought was "Jesus, there's gonna be two sets of this!?!" Just like the Dirty Dozen, they nailed down song after song. I couldn't stop dancing. They had a singer come out for a few tunes, and then Charlie Hunter came out to play bass on a song. His playful attitude worked perfectly with the band. Then the Dirty Dozen came out for the set closer. Whew! What a blast! Not only had I never been to a Galactic concert before, I had never even heard them. That made the first set all the sweeter. Last year I was lucky enough to catch SCI in much the same manner, live and with few expectations or assumptions. The Professor and Radioactive returned for the set break, working a pretty much non-stop beat box for a half an hour. The crowd seemed to be pretty responsive and I was happy to see just how versatile this duo really is. When Galactic retook the stage, the funk was a little more stretched out and cosmic. One tune was a showboat for Raines who started slapping his guitar with his belt during a frenzied solo. Again I was lost in the music. I'd find myself coming to every now and again, unaware of where my mind had been. There are two things that I want to emphasize about the Galactic sets. First drum solos perforated many songs. In my mind any band that has the drummer as another lead instrument, rather than a metronome sitting behind the band, has taken a huge step in the right direction. Secondly, their visual show was amazing. The set up consisted of a standard spot, two slide projectors that shown across the whole stage, and two film projectors. The projectors would play different black and white film snippets over each other. The layering was compounded by the stagnant slides of say, a vine with leaves, which worked as a backdrop. The films had an old creepy quality about them; take the old cartoon segment of the Allmans' light show towards its logical conclusion and you can sort of get the point. On top of that, various members of the four person light team would hold colored lenses in front of the projectors to create a truly surreal effect. No offense to CK, Candice, or anyone else, but this low budget set up was the best thing I've seen in a long, long time. Now to get back to the thread, I found myself not so much focusing on the value of silence or listening as much as focusing on nothing. I reveled in the music, dancing and letting my mind drift. I left the show with that contented body buzz of having gotten the funk out. It was a night with few expectations, and I was not in a critical state of mind, so the music seemed to flow more freely somehow. A
Musical Journey: Part II By Dan Alford The Disco Biscuits Above The Waves > Jigsaw Earth > Above The Waves, Pilin' It High, The Thieving Magpie > Basis For A Day moe.
Set II: New York City, Brent Black > Willie Wonka song > Timmy Tucker** > Farmer Ben, 32 Things, Mexico > Recreational Chemistry > Willie Wonka song Enc: Godzilla Notes: * Al acoustic. ** With "Third Stone From The Sun" (Jimi Hendrix) tease. After the previous night's funk fest, I was primed for the Halloween show at the Hammerstein. I have a strange fascination with the Disco Biscuits. The first time I heard them, I was blown away, and I began to actively seek tapes. I've gathered a handful of HQ shows from 99 and there are times when I'm really enamored with the band. They make my mind run on overdrive, leaving me exhausted. Unfortunately I've only seen them once and that was the truncated set at the GOTV in June. So while I love DJ Logic, no matter where he pops up, and was looking forward to my first moe. show in almost three years, I was really going with the Biscuits in mind and Hoompa Loompas are cool too. I knew that the Biscuits were supposed to go on at eight sharp, and I mistakenly thought that DJ Logic was spinning between sets. It turned out that he went on at seven, and we missed his set. However, when we stepped inside, the Disco Biscuits were just starting "Above the Waves". I took off dancing right away. Above the waves is a truly epic song. The jam wandered into techno space almost immediately. As the music ebbed and flowed, I was struck by the sound quality. The instruments seemed rounded off at the ends, dulled even, but it wasn't a problem. It was a calculated effect. The cymbals, in contrast, were crisp. I think the tone really helped to enhance the hypnotic style of Bisco. The band eased into "Jigsaw Earth". The pseudo-reggae groove was a welcome relief to the high paced waves. (Maybe I'm getting old (which I'm not), but some furious parts of Bisco jams are too fast for my body.) The jam was tight and stretched about ten minutes, plenty of time to let thoughts stray as the body undulated. I kept hearing "Above the Waves" hints lurking on the fringes. After the second verse of "Jigsaw Earth", the chaos build of "Waves" began in earnest. My jaw was hanging low at the release and those triumphant chords that lead to the end of the song. Woooo! This was just what I wanted from the Disco Biscuits. I don't have much memory of "Pilin' It High" except that those really cool read and white lights that I saw at the Nassau Phish shows were spinning around the room. "The Thieving Magpie" was another welcome tune. The semi-classical song construction is fantastic, and the bands' true skill as musicians was on display. It's one of those songs that keeps you listening intently, grinning all the while visions of Dudley Dooright. The segue into the end of "Basis For a Day" was perfect to my less than finely honed ears, and then it was over. Where did the time go? I must say that I am desperate for a full Disco Biscuits show, but the next one in the city conflicts with a KVHW show. Decisions, decisions... I not going to go into any real detail for the moe. sets; someone who is better versed can do that. But I do want to say how incredibly impressed was the band. These goofy guys who used to play frat parties at my college are full-fledged rock stars. The shear power of the music was awe-inspiring. Screaming guitars, slamming percussion and fat, swollen bass, all standing out clearly in the mix. It's redundant, but I was at a rock 'n roll show! In general the music was much more refined than my last show, and I had a great time. Also the Willie Wonka tunes that perforated both sets, despite what the set list says, including an acoustic "Candy Man" sung from the third balcony to start the show, and the Hoompa Loompa song after "Buster" were fun. But most of all, the "Spine of a Dog" > "Buster" kicked ass! I was floored. (Cue moe. fans to add color commentary and perspective.) To return once more to the thread running through these reviews, I was again lost in the absolute freedom of the show. I was dancing and smiling and not really thinking tangible thoughts. It was more like individual ideas would rise up, I'd look at each one, just for a second, and it would fade back into the music. I simply really enjoyed the music and the whole concert experience without being overly critical or even focused on anything in particular. This show, by the way, was a great billing; it was like the modern version of any given night from 68 or 69 at the Fillmore or the Avalon: some of the most influential and exploratory bands in the improvisational music scene mixed together. What a treat!
A
Musical Journey, Part IV By Dan Alford Set List: Beneath the Cover, Brighter Day, Ammonium Maze, Sooner or Later, Soul Sister, Fallen, Masterful Reminder, Trocadero (?) > Sun Machine, Slave, Wrong Side, The Now I hadn't been to The Wetlands in over two years, but it was the same old place. What a great venue. It is small enough that you can hear the music wherever you are, big enough so as not to be cramped when it's crowded, and has an interesting layout that allows room for both people who want to stand right at the stage and those who want a lot of room to get their grooves on. Also, since it is a Mecca for the jam bands scene, and has been for years, there is a real community feeling about the place. This goes beyond the general trend of similar folks in a similar scene. That is to say, in any big city the improv music scene has its regulars; you see the same group of people, by and large, at most or all of the shows that roll through town. You get to know folks, or at least what they look like, you say hi, have beer, talk, trade tapes, whatever. But at The Wetlands people seem friendlier somehow, like they are in some sort of extra sacred space. There are plenty of venues that evoke sacred space, places that have both personal and general histories, places that are loaded with significance. Think of how psyched Phish was the first time they played MSG. There were all sorts of reasons, including great sound, a somewhat unique shape, the fact that the stage vibrates, it's in New York. But most of all, it's Madison Square Garden! There is something that is almost mystical about a concert at MSG; there is a charge in the air; you can actually breathe the excitement. There are any number of places which have sparks of their own. In my mind the Somerville Theater in Boston is one of the greatest venues of all time, and the Palace Theater in Albany is right up there too. I love SPAC and the Knickerbocker, but avoid Nassau at all (well almost all) costs, and have mixed feelings about the Beacon. There are places that I've never been that have mythical connotations in my mind: Shoreline, The Gorge, Deer Creek. They are places I would to visit, venues where magical moments were made. The Wetlands has this same sort of spark, with its history of intimate shows, guest appearances and all night concerts. But there is also something else, a feeling that you are home, that this is place that was created for you, a place where you can be completely at ease with yourself, everyone there, and the rest of the world. It really is a wonderful place. We showed up during Peter Prince's solo acoustic set. People were milling around and there was a small crowd closely watching Peter. I also milled about for a while, and eventually moved in front of the stage. Percy Hill came out to play the last tune of Peter's set with him. I don't know the tune, but it was kind of haphazard; good spirited but nothing to write home about. PH's set started about twenty minutes later. They opened with "Beneath the Cover", a slower number. Joe had some nice guitar licks in the middle of the jam, and near the end Nate let loose a flurry of B-2 notes, clumpy, wet New Hampshire snowflakes. A new tune, "Brighter Day" followed. A woman stood right next to me and screamed comments about the dancers surrounding her into her boyfriend's ear, eliciting nasty glares from the crowd. I wish I could say more about the song, but I was preoccupied. Next up was "Ammonium Maze". It was faster than every other version I've heard, and Joe was nailing the lyrics perfectly. Throughout the night his singing would be a consistent strong point. This was where the concert really got going. The crowd was bopping along, Nate had kicked off his shoes by this time and was laying on the keys and Percy Hill had come to New York. What is your color? Does it go with concrete? A nice slow intro, with Joe in the lead, began "Sooner or Later." Things built up exponentially and finally erupted into a chaotic jam with fat bass, clashing cymbals and strobe lights. After the country lyrics the band drifted into the spacier regions, returning to the second verse a few minutes later. "Soul Sister" was great, a really nice song construction. In general I find Percy Hills songs to be extremely well written. They have enough variation, in terms of tempo, thematic shifts and chord changes, within a given song to keep it interesting, but there is also plenty of room to stretch out. They also have well positioned, gradual builds to release, and intricate, albeit melancholy, lyrics that have steeped in psychedelic stews. All in all, very satisfying songs. I don't know the lyrics to this one, but was there something about tasting her guts? Nate took out the flute, so you knew that "Fallen" was up next. A nice, relatively long intro led the way to this disco-fusion number. Aaron and John set up a solid funk groove for the middle jam, while Nate did mid-song repairs on his flute. Aaron sang "Masterful Reminder" next, and I was really taken by the number, although it was too short. A road trip song should really stretch, in my opinion. A series of creepy Moog notes announced the beginning of a jam that was the highlight of the two hour set. It was time for everyone to play; John was on the ground fiddling with his pedals, Aaron rolled over skins and delicately worked the high hat, and Joe established a cool echo effect as he screeched about. The wandering continued for a while before building to a slight break-down theme that would be repeated twice more during the tune. Between the second theme marker and the end of the song, the music stretched deep into the nether regions and Nate was working the Moog hard, laying out deep, frightening growls. Nate had this intensely focused scowl on his face; the sort of insanity personified by John Medeski, or Brent Mydland. The theme returned for the last time, and the band launched into "Sun Machine". This song wins the Infectious Boogie of the Millennium award. Joe's rhythm runs through my mind constantly and there are times when I just have to stop and shake it. This is J.'s favorite song, and a general crowd pleaser, and since she had been calling for it throughout the set, she was going nuts. This tune is sweet, sweet candy for the ears. I was exhausted by the end and welcomed the "Don't Come Around Here" cover as a cool down. A solid version of "Slave" followed, much better than the last one I saw. "Wrong Side" was another highlight. The jam had a pretty start, and then just continued to build in intensity and richness, layer on top of layer, the sound gelling and swarming up. Wow! John's solo at the end, with Nate laying in color, was also noteworthy. "The Now" closed the set. I didn't stop dancing throughout the entire set, and spent all that time absolutely focused on the musical creations emanating from the stage. I was totally present in the moment, "Here in the now". A perfect set closer, the song grooved along, dipping in and out of themes, and finally peaking. Isn't it amazing, this gift of life? Also at The Wetlands that night were Uncle Sammy and The Slip. I checked out part of Uncle Sammy's set in the lounge, always fun and interesting. On some level these guys are the synthesis of all the major jam bands on the scene. They seem to have incorporated a myriad of influences and produced the average of all those sounds. Check them out. The Slip is more of an experimental jazz trio than a real jam oriented band. They are a very strange band with a very sophisticated sound. I have seen them a half dozen times, and they have never quite clicked for me. But as I'm a fan of similarly challenging music, I'm just waiting for that night when it all comes together for me. Returning, as I did last month, to the thread of my spiritual-musical journey, this show really brought about a feeling of community for me. I felt like I was part of something bigger than me. To see some of the best bands in the scene on the same bill at the premier improv rock club; it just seemed right. It was a moment when I brushed up against the streams of history. I mingled with other folks in the crowd, not necessarily engaging in a lot of conversation, but having that more fulfilling interaction of sharing smiles and glances. Also, I realized how much my prior knowledge of the band enhanced my experience of the show. I really enjoyed loosing myself in the Galactic and moe. shows last weekend, but this was a different sort of enjoyment, one where I was able to hang on every note, and wallow in the convergence of sounds. To a large degree it is that attention to detail that has been missing in my life in general, leading to my spiritual numbness. It's time to start focusing again.
Phil
and Friends and Bob Dylan By Jeremy Let me start by saying that my expectations were not too high for this show. I was still kind of bummed about not seeing Kimock, but I was looking forward to see how Derek Trucks would respond. Also, I had seen Dylan for the first time this past summer, with Paul Simon. So even though I was very impressed with his performance, I didn't know how he was going to top it. My friend Laura, my sister, and I walked up to the show about an hour before. I had started to get into the pre-show groove, seeing all the Fans milling about the arena. This was the first show at the Igloo that I was going to attend since working downtown - kind of nice to walk five minutes and be at a show. The line for the GA floor wasn't too bad, and we made our way in and camped half-way between the SBD and the Stage. Some nice jazz was playing over the PA. The stage was rather simple, with three music stands. The crowd on the floor seemed almost completely full of Phil fans. And even though there were lots of excited Phans milling about, this might have been the mellowest pre-show scene I have seen in quite a while. Probably didn't help that the Igloo was kind of sparse (my guess is that there were about 8,000 people there at max). Talked to Marc and Barb for a while, and finally ran into Gumby and Crew, who took their place next to us on the floor. Around 7:30, Phil came out and checked some things. This caused a bit of a roar to come up from the crowd. Soon after, the rest of the band took their places. From the left, Rob Barraco - Zen Tricksters - on keys, Derek Trucks - Derek Trucks Band and Allmans, Phil, Warren Hayes - Allmans and Gov't Mule, and behind Phil, John Molo - from Bruce Hornsby's The Range and The Other Ones, sporting some facial hair. Jam
-> They started playing the Intro Jam with the lights still on, which was kind of strange. Actually, during the whole set the production was a bit off, with low Keyboards and miss-cues with spot-lights and the like. Early on, I heard Phil play a bit of Dark Star and even some The Eleven. Ten minutes in, the jam slowed down and Dark Star started. I was very pleased with the opener, to say the least. The Dark Star slowly meandered. During this early part of the show, the band was definitely loose and spacey. For the most part, they seemed nice and relaxed. Although, Derek had this tiny look of stage-fright the whole night - I just think that is the way he is, as he had the same sort of look this summer with the ABB. On the other side of the coin, Rob Barraco was smiling and grinning the whole time - he was having a blast! A quick Uncle John's Band was teased six minutes into the jam (almost like the Other Ones calypso style). Having played it the last show, I didn't really think they were going to follow through. The 'official' set list has a MLB jam in here somewhere, but I am still not familiar with MLB to say I heard it. The band went back into Dark Star, singing the first verse (Phil, Warren, and then Rob - but Warren's and Rob's mics were not on or something; very frustrating; the sound guy got it together for the "Shall we go . . ." part). Right after the singing, Derek did this thing with his guitar where he put his fingers up on the neck (like Richie Havens style) and made these cool laughing sounds. I don't know how evident this was - I was just watching Derek. Too bad his music stand was right in front of his hands for most of the night. Half and hour into the show, the jam picked up a bit; faster, it had a little of an Other One feel to it. This jam got very spacey, almost like free jazz or something. Five minutes of that led to what sounded to Laura and I like an ABB song . . . as I stood there, trying to place it, Dear Mr. Fantasy was clearly played. This was sung very well by Warren. Rob switched from electric piano to hammond and grooved very nicely. And it was during this song that Derek really got into it, playing some nice slide and doing well with a little duel with Warren. It was during this time that I heard the lady in front of me comment that even though she really doesn't like Hanson, the guitar player was doing very well; made me smile ; ) Dear Mr. Fantasy was jammed out for about 10 minutes, leaving the main melody after the Derek / Warren duel. Around 12 minutes in, they briefly teased Mountain Jam before bringing it back into Dear Mr. Fantasy. During the 'reprise', Molo beats out a bit of a swing beat. The crowd sounded some nice applause as Phil and Co. took its first break of the evening. They didn't take too long, though, in giving us something else to cheer about as the opening notes of Unbroken Chain were sounded. I was very, very happy and surprised to hear this one. At one point, Laura asked where the cell phones were (I told her the story I read on Dead.net about when the first Unbroken was played in Philly . . . ). This version was a nice one. Rob did a great job on the elec. piano and Phil really got into it, doing some lunges. He seemed to be very into the whole evening, getting his body into it. They never really hit the fast part, right after the singing; Phil kept playing the bass line, probably hoping that Warren (or Derek) would play their line, but both guitar players ended jamming over top of Phil's bass - it worked out alright. During this little jam, Phil was instructing or guiding Derek as to what to play, and he slowly started working his slide, slowly building into a really nice jam by his part. I guess he just needed a little coaxing... The band brought things back together for Phil to sing one more time; Unbroken slowly faded into a jam around 10-12 minutes in. The jam had some hints of Dark Star, and once again got a bit swingy following Molo's drumming. Kind of sounded to me that Rob was playing Low Spark - another Traffic song? No, they headed back into Dark Star and sang the second verse. After the second verse, I looked at my watch and noticed they had been playing for around 80 minutes. Just as soon as I started to wonder what they would close with, the ripped right into Help On the Way. Again, I was very happy to hear this, and HelpSlipFranklin's certainly didn't disappoint. The Help, sung very well by Rob, was nice and crunchy, and lasted for about 10 minutes. The jam before Slipknot got a bit messy, as they didn't seem to know where to take it; Molo also sounded like he was off a little. Noticing this, it seemed like Phil brought everyone down, slowing things, before they went into Slipknot. Good band-leader stuff, as he was doing all evening. And the highlight of the evening was the closer, Franklin's Tower. This version just ripped, sung pretty well by Phil. This was rocked out very nicely, with some good dueling by Derek and Warren. I was actually really impressed with Warren all night. I am usually not a huge Warren fan, but he did a great job playing the higher, Jerry-like licks all night. And he did a great job with Franklin's. They rocked the end out a bit long, with some added vocals by Rob. A great closer. I actually had goose-bumps. . . Phil motioned for everyone to come over to him, as they took a group bow. He introduced everyone, and made a brief pitch for blood and organ donation. All in all, I was very happy with the set. The jamming was pretty good, nice and spacey. The Franklin's ripped, and the Unbroken was a nice treat; Warren also sang the Dear Mr. Fantasy well. I thought they missed some opportunities to "hit it", if that makes any sense; Phil did a lot of pointing and directing, and you could see Derek, Warren, and Phil look at their music. And as mentioned above, Derek looked a bit uncomfortable. But by the end of the night, I did see him crack two small smiles. : ) Nothing too spectacular, but it was good to finally see Phil after hearing lots of great Phil and Friends tapes and CDs. Definitely worth it, and Dylan hadn't played yet. The set break was maybe 30 minutes. It didn't seem too long before Bob and his band came out, all dressed to the nines with Dylan wearing this flashy White suit. They meant business! ; ) The floor's dynamic changed just a bit, as more Dylan fans pushed up front. And everyone who was sitting for Phil, it seemed, stood up for Bob. Bob Dylan and Band (included Charlie Sexton on Guitar, and David Kemper - Jerry Garcia Band - on drums) Acoustic: Electric: Encore: I won't do a song by song analysis, as I am not too familiar with Dylan, nor did I take as thorough of notes. I will say I was impressed, again, with his energy and singing. He took almost all of the Guitar leads, and played them well, not trying to over-do it. The band was pretty tight, but I was a bit more impressed with their playing this summer. Let's see... Cocaine Blues was up-beat, and the Tangled Up in Blue was done well (kind of re-worked). I liked the electric opener, Tom Thumb's Blues - remembering that I saw this at my first Dead show. Tombstone Blues was nice and quick from the start. I think Blind Willy McTell was one of the highlights for me. I don't think I had heard this song before, and it was nice and dark and bluesy. Great lyrics, too - I could understand most of them! You Ain't Goin' Nowhere was a rare one, Gumby informed me. And was done well. The Highway 61 closer was nice and rockin'; I think the bass drum was turned up for this one, as it got really loud at the end. The LoveSick, the only song from Dylan's last album, was the other highlight. Again, very dark and played very, very well. The next song was kind of surf rock-y, if that makes sense. I was guessing it was called Pass It Around, and Gumby was guessing Cats in the Well. Not sure if either are right... Don't Think Twice, It's Alright was done on acoustic. And Not Fade Away was a nice treat, but was quick and different from the Dead's version. Definitely a great night of music. It puts such a big smile on my face to see Phil and Bob touring together, still playing great and moving music. Let's hope they will keep treating for years to come. Tour Dates: 16 - Michael Glabicki (Rusted Root) and Mike Errico @ Theatre Of Living Arts (TLA), Philadelphia, PA. Phone # (215) 922-1010 16 - Alison Krauss & Union Station @ Town Hall, New York City, NY. 17 - Deep Banana Blackout and Miracle Orchestra @ Trocadero, Philadelphia, PA. Phone # (215) 922-LIVE 17 - Jazz is Dead @ The Chameleon, Lancaster, PA. Phone # (717) 393-7133 18 - Hypnotic Clambake @ Milestone's, Rochester, NY. Phone # (716) 325-6490 In addition to dates in Buffalo (11/24) and New York City (11/26-27), the David Nelson Band have added an appearance at Joyous Lake in Woodstock on November 23. Tuesday,
November 23, 1999
String
Cheese Incident Behold the power of cheese. String Cheese that is. The String Cheese Incident, stalwarts of the jamband scene, brought their act to the Hall of Presidents on the campus of Colgate University. Known for there own concoction of bluegrass-jazz-funk-rock, SCI left everybody wishing for another Incident.
Having
missed opening act Keller Willams, for what seems like the tenth time,
my anticipation for the Cheese was about ready to hit the roof. The
Cheese wasted no time in getting the half-costumed-crowd hoppin'.
They fired the first set up with a funky number, "Ms. Brown's Teahouse,"
in which guitarist Bill Nershi displayed some scorching fretwork.
Next up was a cover of the David Grisman Quintet's "Chili Dawg." I've
never heard the Incident play this tune but they did such a superb
job on it, that David Grisman would probably be in awe. SCI style
is so closely connected to the music of David Grisman, that playing
one of his tunes is an honor of sorts to the mandolin innovator. This
tune is a tribute to the fusion of Bluegrass and Jazz, what Grisman
refers to as 'Dawg music.' Before the band kicked into the Caribbean
flavored "Suntan," bassist Keith Moseley (Sporting a new hairdoo)
announced that at any minute now he could become a father. So in preparation
for the day he has to take off to welcome his new-born into the world,
he's been prepping opening act Keller Willams on the bass. Keller
sat in with the band on that number and to my surprise the band didn't
miss a beat. Moseley came back out to croon the Steve Miller Band
classic "The Joker." The band changed the lyrical content of the song.
In the chorus (I'm a picker, I'm a grinner…), Moseley sang "mule skinner,"
instead of sinner. This version would be a number one hit in a world
that had no electric guitars. This version had a ska-feel to it, thanks
to Michael Kang's Sa-like mandolin licks. Another highlight of the
set was the closer, "Whiskey before Breakfast." Now from my understanding
this is an old time bluegrass ditty, but has appeared on Leftover
Salmons album Bridges to Bert. My friend mentioned to me that they
should leave the tune to LOS, but in this reviewer's opinion its all
good. The tune wasn't as straight-ahead bluegrassy as LOS's version,
but nonetheless is had everyone dancing out the door and down to the
pub for set-break. Coming back in for the second set, I notice a bunch
of very large hoola-hoops hangin' around so I grabbed one and started
to hoola-hoop. That was when the band got a lil' funky, covering Maceo
Parker's funk anthem, "Chicken." Moseley slick bass groove, complimented
by keyboardist Kyle Hollingworth rhythm organ, made for one hell of
funkin time dancin. As I crept up to the front row (with camera in
hand), I noticed Hollingsworth scatting along while he played his
organ riffs. Pretty cool lookin' shit! The boy then handled a version
of the Beatles "I've Just Seen a Face," in which they gave the song
finger-pickin treatment, making more of a bluegrass tune than a rock
tune. The intensity of drummer Michael Travis really drove this song
to perfection. Keller Willams joined the band again for a version
of his tune "Vacate," which is featured on his new album Breathe,
on which the String Cheese Incident served as his backing band. The
intense and intimidating groove of "Big Mon" led in to the reggae
laced Stevie Wonder classic, "Boogie on Reggae Woman," in which Kang
took over on vocals. His mandolin playing on this tune, and all night,
was outstanding. With the use of many different effects pedals (HE
USE'S A SHIT LOAD), Kang expanded the sound of his instrument. At
one point in the evening he produced a sound with his mando that resembled
a DJ cutting beats. For the encore the band pulled a rabbit out of
the hat, performing Aerosmith/Run DMC's now classic rock/rap fusion
tune, "Walk This Way." The mutated version starts out heavy with distortion
and all, then when the chorus comes along the band kicks it bluegrass
style, lyrically and musically. Hollingsworth seemed so exited during
the tune he kept jumping out of this piano stood. As I reflect on
the evening I think the SCI played to their audience. They were not
at a bluegrass festival, they were on a college campus, thus I think
they kind of shied away from their more traditional bluegrass numbers
like "Hold what you Got," and "Mountain Girls." Kang also didn't play
his violin all night, which I thought was strange. Nonetheless, the
band displayed a diverse and pleasurable evening of music that was
definitely an Incident worth reporting.
The
Matt Barranti Band By
Anthony Coloneri
Let
Me Ride - Dickey Betts The
first and last thing that comes to mind when I listen to this live
CD is, "this band means business."
The
Matt Barranti Band consists of Matt Barranti (Lead and slide guitars,
lead vocals), Bill Eyler (Lead Guitar, vocals), Jim Payne (Bass,
backgrounc vocals), Lou Angelo (Drums, background vocals), Fred
Delu (Keyboards), George Harris (Percussion), and "Big Jim" Syfrett
(sound).
As
I settled into my chair and pressed play, I couldn't help but notice
the powerful presence of this band during "Let Me Ride." This Decky
Betts cover featured an edgy sound with an Allman Brothers feel.
Nice guitar solos weaving in and out of the vocals with consistent
dual lead parts, courtesy Eyler and Barranti. The classic "Mustang
Sally" was delivered with a soulful voice and a tasteful rhythm
section, which kept the groove together. Again, the dual lead parts
were nice to hear, and kept bringing me back to the sounds of the
Allman Brothers. The band kept the energy flowing during each cover,
as they plowed through others which included "Low Down Dirty Mean"
and "In Memory of Elizabeth Reed."
When
listening to a band for the first time, I usually can get a good
feel for who they are and what they are trying to say from their
originals songs. "Someone Like You," written by Matt Barranti, gave
me the chance. This is a love song, from what I gathered, speaking
of holding onto the dreams of a lady that will never be. A soulful
ballad that was quite different from the previous covers on the
CD, which I felt was refreshing. It's always nice to see a person's
true self shine through in their music, instead of blending to the
point where you can't tell the difference from an original and cover.
"Lord
Have Mercy," written by Matt Barranti , features a dominant blues
riff to start off, followed by a funky rhythm consistent throughout
the song. I noticed, in this particular song, the riff and slide
guitar compliment each other rather well. In my opinion, this is
a good example of musicians working at a song until its clean delivery
cuts right through and delivers.
The
Matt Barranti Band consist of competent musicians and it's obvious
from the first few notes they are really having a blast playing
together. Although I am usually not the biggest fan of bands performing
cover songs, The Matt Barranti Band played these covers with a touch
of soul and purpose. It seems obvious that songs like "Come On In
My Kitchen" (Robert Johnson) and "Her Middle Name" (Chris Cain)
mean something to this band. There is a sense of homegrown tradition
that cannot escape your ear when listening to this live CD, and
it's nice to hear.
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