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Midwest Regional Report
Edited by Natalie Guinsler - midwest@jambands.com

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Editor's Ramblings:

So, there I am in Redbird Arena, listening to the various rumblings of the crowd while trying to squeeze myself through the post-show mire...

"I quit seeing these guys in '96 'cause the crowd sucks... nobody cares about the music."

"Hey, what was that third song of the second set?"

"Oops, sorry. Excuse me, sorry. Oops, excuse me, sorry."

"I really need a veggie burrito. No, I need a bathroom, then a veggie burrito."

"Oh, man, tonight was solid, man. They were so tight. Dude, they were ON. Tonight was so much better than last night."

It was then, out of nowhere, that I was hit dead center in the forehead with something sharp and bright...no, it wasn't a glowstick (this time, anyway), but...A REALIZATION....I am deaf, dumb, and blind.

Not that I don't believe everyone is entitled to their own opinion...in fact, I have a die-hard conviction that folks should listen to what they hear, and not what they are told to hear. But, obviously, I am lacking at least three of the six senses (speaking of six senses...didn't anyone else notice that Bruce Willis was wearing the same damn clothes the entire time that lil' rugrat was 'seeing dead people?').

Tangents aside...I was entirely more satisfied with the Allstate show...(insert your own, 'Formerly Rosemont Horizon', here) than the Normal show (The only two Fall Tour shows I could escape to). Was the sound the best I've ever heard? No. Was the performance void of error? No. Was the energy of the crowd the most intense and positive I have ever experienced? No.

But, guess what? I like it when Mike completely miffs the lyrics to Ginseng. I love it when I am dying with anxiety as I await that tiny "pling" after the contagious silence in Divided (okay, another tangent...does anyone know the record for the longest space here?). I nearly squeak with pleasure as Trey plays rock star in BBFCFM. And Sugar Blue and Son Seals...you can't be serious. To me, THAT is what a show is all about...the HUMAN element.

If I wanted perfect sound, I'd buy a CD. It seems that we, as consumers of live music, put too much emphasis on perfection. Improv, the very essence of what makes a Phish show, or any other, exciting leaves room for 'error' (completely subjective translation). The whole concept behind 'jambands', I thought, was variation. I personally do not want to see a 'perfect' Bowie everytime...what would be the point of going to show after show after show. "Hmmm, great, another flawless Harry Hood. Yipee. Wow. Shazam." (Add your own monotone sarcasm here.)

I want to see Phish play for themselves...not for me, or to me, or for the sake of perfection for 20,000 folks. (Insert Jamband of your choice here) is comprised of human beings...a species known to all others as the end-all be-all of all things gone wrong on this planet. I have argued this with folks who debate that for $30 bucks they expect a 'solid' or 'tight' or (insert your own jamband buzzword here) performance. If that is what you want, perhaps you are listening to the wrong genre, friend. I hear Brittany Spears not only sings the same way every night, but she makes five skimpy costume changes.

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And now... On with the show

Edgar Meyer, Joshua Bell, Mike Marshall & Sam Bush

Sept. 26, 1999 - Weigel Hall, Ohio State University Columbus, Ohio

by Jesse Jarnow

Edgar Meyer is a man of great quality, no doubt. His last record -1997s "Uncommon Ritual", recorded with Bela Fleck and Mike Marshall - is pretty much in infinite rotation in my house. It is an album of such sublime beauty that I have never heard. High praise, huh? About a month ago, Meyer's latest offering - "Short Trip Home", recorded with Joshua Bell, Mike Marshall, and Sam Bush - was rushed home amid a flurry of expectations. While not on par with the elegance of "Ritual", it is nonetheless an exceedingly fine piece of work. Days later, it was discovered that the ensemble on the disc would be making a live appearance at Ohio State University in Columbus. Arrangements were made. With the promise of the show - and the fact that we would be heading just far enough south so as to venture into Waffle House territory - we hopped in my car and took off.

Some two hours later, we arrived at Weigel Hall. The venue was intimate. I didn't think they built rooms in that size and shape. It wasn't big. It was a room clearly designed for classical music (a pipe organ hovered behind the stage) but, at the same time, it couldn't have held more than a couple of hundred people. Either way, constructed on a slant, every seat in the house afforded a nice view of the stage. The band took the stage within minutes of their scheduled show time. Down the center were Meyer (on bass) and Bell (the current darling violinist of the classical community, according to my housemate). Flanking them, on the left (from the audience's perspective) was Mike Marshall and, on the right, Sam Bush. Both Marshall and Bush had a wide array of stringed instruments arranged behind them -- mandolins, fiddles, guitars... even a mandocello.

The first half of the first set featured a number of tunes from the album - including the title number, BP, and In The Nick Of Time -before breaking down into some of the more interesting segments of the night, featuring duo and trio combinations of the various ensemble members. After Prequel, a duet between Meyer and Bell on the album, things picked up considerably. All members of the band are extremely capable improvisers. In that sense, the only dark horse is Bell. Bush and Marshall both come with impeccable backgrounds in this regard -- Bush as a member of the seminal Newgrass Revival and Marshall as a picker in the David Grisman Quintet. Meyer has seen his share, too, including many years of work with the newgrass supergroup (which also featured Sam Bush and Bela Fleck) Strength In Numbers. While surely technically able, Bell seemed timid when it came to jamming of any variety. Variations on the lineup produced the most interesting somewhat spontaneous music of the evening.

Following the Bell/Meyer collaboration was Fla Flu, featuring Meyer and Marshall. Meyer departed, Bush returned, and the two remaining members played two gorgeous mandolin duets. The first, the Wayfaring Stranger (written by Burl Ives and popularized by Bill Monroe, if one is to believe their humorous banter), was played with a gentle sparseness. The other number, Ralph's Banjo Special - out of context and especially by contrast - was a high-speed bluegrass burn. In both numbers, the two traded solos, which were snuck inside of an intricate arrangement that highlighted both men's considerable mando skills. The return of Bell brought upon the question "why lug many miles for a concert than can be heard even more easily and in crystal clarity in the comfort of your own opium den?" It also soon brought upon the answer: 'cause it's fuckin' cool to see musicians execute complex music with style and grace. Rounding out the set with a couple more tunes from the disc - Okay, Alright, Whatever and BT - the chemistry of the group continued to accelerate. Whatever that means.

Beginning the second set with some more duets from Marshall and Bell was all right, if not a little too stuffy for my tastes. Meyer's bluegrass/classical crossover is reflected in many spaces -- the composition, the audience, the instrumentation, and - most definitely - the presentation. Just as his albums bring classical arrangements of traditional melodies, played with the high lonesome sound of bluegrass stuck in a chamber group, Meyer's groups also bring bluegrass humor to the concert hall. Somewhere, there is a line between a "program" and a "setlist". Short Trip Home skirts it. With more than half the crowd there seemingly there because they had season passes to Weigel Hall, it must've come as a surprise to them to see small comedy routines wedged in between the numbers. This was supposed to be serious music, dammit. Nonetheless, Short Trip Home brought the one-liners direct from the Grand Ol' Opry. Short Trip Home, the title, seems to refer to what the band is doing musically. Sure, this is all very serious music in some regards --charts, theme and variation, and all of that shit. But, the melodies here are very down home. They are mostly rooted in things that sound extremely familiar, traditional. In short, they're making bluegrass music acceptable, in some regards, to the yuppie masses in the same way that the Flecktones do to the lite jazz crowd. It's not a put down of the music in any regards. Hell, I love bluegrass, but there are many - some of whom were surely at the concert- who would confine it to the soundtrack to "Deliverance". It is a short trip home, though, to the melodies and songs that create the vast body of American music.

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More Bluegrass for Midwestern Hayseeds
Bean Blossom Bluegrass Festival

by Chris Keiner

I know that Bluegrass Festivals are not the usual haunt of the typical jamband, but the kind of jamming on stage and in the campgrounds put most festivals I have been to to shame. This past weekend was no exception.

The festival is held in a heavily wooded area in Brown County, Indiana and thus offers much better accommodations than your typical festival fair. We rolled into the festival around 10pm on Thursday and there were still several bands playing on the stage. The best of the groups was Blue Highway. They ripped through a version of Old Hobo Song (you may have heard this on Old & In The Way Breakdown), that was easily as good as any I had ever heard. But, the real highlight was to come the following day when the Del McCoury Band was scheduled to play two sets.

The first set was rather typical McCoury band, if you saw them at Oswego, you saw most of these tunes. They certainly got down though. There is a reason that Trey called them one of his heroes. The second set was where the sparks flew. They came on a little before midnight and treated the crowd to some amazing instrumental work as well as a rousing version of Tom Petty's Love is a Long Road. They encored with a Bill Monroe classic, Rawhide. I have never heard a band play a song that fast and yet that precise. They are definitely the best thing bluegrass has to offer today.

I checked some of the other bands out during the rest of the weekend, but none of them compared to Del McCoury, although each of them had their moments. Plus, it is great to see all of those Phishy bluegrass tunes played in a more traditional manner. I heard Paul and Silas, Ginseng Sullivan, My Old Home Place, and countless versions of Uncle Penn as the weekend continued on.

The real power of a bluegrass festival comes at night, after the music is over on the stage. When at least twenty-five picking circles spring up with some fine musicians, usually an upright bass or two, a couple of guitars, a banjo or two, and at least one mandolin, and a fiddle if you are lucky. Everybody knows pretty much all twenty-five picking circles spring up with some fine musicians, usually an upright bass or two, a couple of guitars, a banjo or two, and at least one mandolin, and a fiddle if you are lucky. Everybody knows pretty much all of the songs, and everybody gets a chance to take a solo if they want to.

The only downer on the weeked was the lack of fires. Because of the drought, they really tried to keep those under control, and we actually saw (albeit just once) a policeman come over and ask us to put the fire out. So we did what he asked. Other than that, there was no law enforcement to speak of, and the "no alcohol in the concert grounds" rule translated to "put it in a cozie". Real mellow and a great scene all together.

If you are into some of the newer bluegrassy jam bands, i.e., Leftover Salmon, String Cheese Incident, Blueground Undergrass, etc. You owe it to yourself to go check out a bluegrass festival. You will enjoy yourself.

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More Bluegrass, Anyone?

Check out the discussion group, NewGrass Phriends, at www.onelist.com. Tell Red, the list moderator, that Natalie sent ya'!