|
|
Tour Journal Revisited
The magic of a show...
by Anthony Fappiano
Edited by Michael MorrowThere may be no other feeling quite like it in the world. You're sitting around a friends place, killing time before getting in the car and driving to the venue. You're making small talk about setlists, what they're due to play, maybe discussing possible surprise guests. The tickets have been in your desk drawer (since that's the safest place for them) since you bought the six weeks ago. Now they're in your pocket and you feel them to make sure they're still there every few minutes or so. So amidst all of this small-talk and ticket feeling you really just can't wait to be there.
To be standing outside of the venue, watching the huge crowds of people, many of whom look just like you. And it's cold out side. Cold enough where you can see your breath, maybe even cold enough to be wearing some knitted mittens as you wander past the people with single fingers in the air. Again, you feel for your ticket just to make sure. Lighting a cigarette you stop and just sort of observe the scene. A beautiful scene...A scene you sometimes wish you could see everyday, or maybe a scene that you could take home with you. But as you keep watching you know that this is something that can only be seen before a Phish show.
The general buzz and energy of the crowd is intoxicating now as you make your way toward the ticket gate. Just about everyone is as excited as you are. People still make small talk but have difficulty discussing anything of any importance. What's that feeling you always get in your stomach just before the show? Excitement? Anxiousness? Nervousness? Sometimes you feel like you're about to go on stage just before they do.
And now you take of your mittens and your wool hat and stash them safely underneath your chair. You're eyes wander around at all the people and you sit, waiting...You look at your watch every 2 minutes, or worse, you forgot your watch and you ask your friend "what time is it now?" every 30 seconds. Now you can't even bother to make small talk, you're too close to the lights going down, and everything else in the world not mattering at all.
Suddenly as you sit there taking in all of these thoughts and feelings, the lights go off without any warning. You wait some more, and listen some more, feel around for your ticket stub out of pure habit and then you hear the first couple of chords...Suddenly everything is gone. There are no problems anywhere, not right now anyway.
As the music creeps up on you, you slowly allow it to wash over your brain and fall helplessly and blissfully into a groove that seems as though it was tailor made for you...Sometimes you dance a little, sometimes you sing along, sometimes you look over at your friend and smile about something... You practically never talk, nodding seems much more useful at this point. You more or less glide along the center of the groove for as long as you can. Slowly, but noticeably, you come back a little bit, maybe enough to observe the thousands of others all around and you listen with your feet planted firmly in the ground; with an understanding of reality... And just like that, the first set is over.
Setbreak arrives and since you're back to reality you can easily deal with things like filling up a water bottle or going to the bathroom. And after taking care of such tasks, you again settle back into your seat, now no longer making small talk with you friend. Your feelings of anxiousness and nervousness are gone. However, as the setbreak lags, a feeling of impatience begins to creep up on you...And just when you think you can't take it anymore...You hear those chords again.
It' s sometimes difficult to get back in that groove that seemed to fit you so perfectly during that first set...Especially now since you remember what it felt like. You find yourself trying to force your mind back to that magical place, but you can't seem to find it. Random thoughts about school, rent, and family problems just keep popping up out of nowhere and just when you think you can't take another minute of it...they deliver. They deliver with a sound so powerful that it makes all of your problems seem like a joke. You feel insignificant and before long you're riding in that groove once again...This time the ride is even better because as you coast along you realize how meaningless so many of your "problems" really are. You're filled with joy and delight and talking to anyone seems like a ridiculous idea. Besides, if you're lucky your friend will be feeling the same thrill and won't want to bother with meaningless conversation anyway. The jams begin to build up to fierce levels and just when you think they're TOO powerful, they abruptly come to an end. The realization that the second set is over and that you're only gonna hear about 10 more minutes of music hits you like a freight train.
You begin to think about when you'll get to see them again, what the mail-order dates are, if you'll be able to find a place to crash that night etc, etc...On a great night the encore will be something that will take you on one more mini-ride, but most nights you're satisfied to hear something that will let you dance and sing for ten more minutes... You already expanded your mind to full capacity during the second set, so hearing a short rocker won't disappoint and will probably please you. You hear one final cheer and the lights go on. The show is over and now you have no choice but to get back to your hum-drum everyday life.
The problems which seemed so small during that second set, suddenly begin to loom again...You begin to worry about such meaningless things as TRAFFIC for crying out loud. But you still can remember that feeling you had. That magical feeling before the show where just about anything seemed possible. Or that moment in the first set when you actually FELT a chord come out of the speaker and touch your soul.
And you realize these small moments that you had at this sow and at every show are what make it worthwhile. You realize that no matter how old you get or how far you travel, you will still always be coming back to these shows. Now you're in the car and you have to turn the heat up because it's almost midnight and it's freezing outside. You put the radio on and begin to talk about the show...What you liked the best...How you thought it could have been better...Eventually, as the length of the drive sets in, you stop talking all together. Now you just think for awhile...It's cold outside, but you feel warm and comfortable. You laugh at yourself as you realize, "Jesus, does it get any better than this?"...I don't see how it could.
October Issue: Home | Editors | Features | Columns | Photos | Regional | New Groove
Road Trip | Tour Journal | Venue | Levels | Ghosts | Homegrown | Inaudible | CDs | Charts
JamBands.Com is published on the 15th of every month. Submissions are due ten days earlier on the fifth of each month. Please contact the specific editor for the section you are interested in contributing to. For general content comments, please e-mail jambands@jambands.com. For all technical web site related issues, please contact Sarah Bruner or David Steinberg