JamBands.Com - October 1999 - Southwest Regional Report

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Southwest Regional Report
Edited by Chris Gardner - southwest@jambands.com

Well, this was a busy month for the Southwest. With Phish making their swing through, Trey sitting in with Leftover Salmon, and Widespread Panic playing a series of mind-boggling shows, there was plenty to write about. Many thanks are due to this month's contributors, and extra special thanks are due Sam Fox for all his work in recent months. Come back next month to hear about the First Annual Stubb's Bluegrass Festival and all your local and regional highlights. Find the groove and stay there. The Spirit moves in all things.
In This Issue:

Life in the Monkeyhouse, or Water, Water Everywhere
Big Wu, or the Ghost of Michael Madsen
Grabbed By the Lapels and Shaken
Just Like Home
Panic Strikes the Celebrity Theatre!
Standing In the Desert With a Hook and Reel

The Big Wu
Hayden Square Park - Tempe, AZ
September 11, 1999
by Sam Fox
The Wise Monkey Orchestra
Part One: Backstage
It all comes back to the ocean. From the first gasping breach of the surface by our distant ancestor came the essential spark of all terrestrial organisms, the will to survive in the face of adversity. The Wise Monkey Orchestra is a more contemporary example of this ambition.
On another sunny Saturday afternoon (9/11/99), I pedaled up to the backstage concourse of Hayden Square Park in Tempe, AZ. On the outdoor bill this evening was a trio of new bands that independently fall under the giant umbrella that is the jamband movement. As a layabout on worker's compensation, filled with burgeoning dreams of journalistic immortality, and not a cent to my name, I landed with the intent of approaching the bands and utilizing my tenuous title as regional columnist to check some tunes. Little did I know what lay ahead of me!
By pure chance the first person I met was the headlining act's manager, Reed Stewart of the Wise Monkey Orchestra. He was lugging bags off the ground and into the van, and perspiring slightly. I took the inopportune moment to introduce myself and prepared to flash a pack of cigarette's, a la' John Belushi "Local Musicians Union", as identification. Before I could re-enact that classic scene, Reed shook my hand and said they would be glad to bend my ear for a bit, and then I was carrying bags and surrounded by dreadlocked band members, stout rent-a-cop security, and the usual backstage maelstrom of activity. While I was still marveling at acceptance on nothing, I met Lee Abraham, proprietor of mrlee.com, and a significantly more established writer who was traveling with the band after a singular experience he had at a show. He eyed me somewhat skeptically, like a spider eyes a fly, but was most kind and really went out of his way to give me constructive advice on the craft.
Thus, flush with the heady experience of true "hippie" generosity, I found myself inside the adjacent Balboa Cafe, surrounded by five of the seven members, and stumbling through an interview I thought I was prepared for. Most of the band was from the greater Phoenix area and had known each other for quite some time, thus their stories and banter told me far more than I could extract from questions.
First, the name; Wise Monkey Orchestra. With only the slightest of hesitations at this familiar query, the founding member (or original Wise Monkey) Sean told me a well practiced anecdote dealing with a late night PBS special entitled "The Wise Monkey's", which denotes human being's, despite the state of Kansas. Comparisons between elderly humans appearance and orangutans were re-enacted for the circle to much hilarity. With that, we adjourned to revisit some old haunts and, when arrangements were made in a practiced rapid-fire manner, I was soon walking down the main drag of Tempe with Sean, Andy (trombone/flute), and Chad (bass and brother of manager).
More stories were trotted out about high old times, birthdays, and of being thrown bodily across bars. We soon found ourselves at the scene of the latter, Long Wong's, home of the best wings west of the Mississippi.
A few cold ones and said wings later, more old friends arrived for the show and I discovered myself fed and possessing a story.
With roots in Tempe, the band underwent many mutations, until their present makeup was realized after they moved to north San Diego. Far from the maddening heat and concrete of Phoenix, and flush with the Pacific Ocean, the Wise Monkey Orchestra began to live up to it's name. Their melodic sound carries the ebb and flow of those Pacific tides, and the mix is equally pleasing to the ear. They marvel at their inclusion in the jambands scene, as they consider themselves more song and lyric oriented, but dig the acceptance and grassroots support. Regular six week intervals of tours have gained them a solid southwest circuit of gigs, and they are beginning to explore the hallowed northeast as this article is being written. Their broad range of musical influences is represented equally by the band makeup.
Like the fine edge of catching a Pacific wave at sunrise, Wise Monkey Orchestra can make you want to howl, dance, sing praises, bang your head, and blithely close your eyes and exist in the moment, all within one song. By firmly establishing their ground as they tour, and returning often to their well's of inspiration, this finely tuned unit does justice to their name. The original conductor of the Orchestra, Sean (keys, vocals, edginess), reflects the successful schizophrenic nature of the band. During the afternoon, he ranges from American anarchist bemoaning the loss of a favorite Mexican eatery, a casualty of the corporate takeover of the Tempe downtown, to rapid fire tirades on the state of Arizona and rental cops. His points are driven home with the glowing tip of his cigarette, like a blacksmith shaping the air to his liking, then he dissolves into good natured laughter at an old friend who grabbed the hottest wing on the plate and had to evacuate. Chad (bass) and his brother Reed reflect the SoCal surfer wavelength in every movement and gesture. Tim Pacheco (percussion, vocals) adds a dub element as well as melodic harmony and rousing call and response lyrics with Alley (lead vocals). All together they meld, rise, and retreat with the practiced sound and pulse of an oceanic orchestra.
PART II: THE SHOW Thunderheads threaten, an unlikely occurrence in middle September in the desert, but spirits are high surrounded by family and friends. Polliwog, another Tempe to San Diego transplant, is the first band to take the stage.
Exuding SoCal proto-hippie funk rock, this female vocalist led quintet tore into their opening set. Featuring a hotshot, red-dreadlocked guitarist, constantly bouncing bass player, driving drums, and a percussionist with adjacent turntables, this band reflects their name, in that they are still growing into something stronger. As the rain came, the lead singer strove to banish the clouds by reaching deeper and belting her feelings into the purpling sky. Alas, the forces of nature were indifferent, as they often are, and after witnessing much lightning all around, they cut their set short.
Thus began the trend of the evening, in which a band would begin after a pause in the storm, then be driven off twenty minutes into their set by rain. Major Lingo was the middle act, and much of the Orchestra had expressed anticipation at seeing one of their favorite local bands. Armed with an incendiary pedal-steel guitarist and yet another strong female lead singer, they took the hometown crowd through four strong and promising songs before likewise begging off due to the storm. Thus, the quandary for WMO. To take the stage in the teeth of the storm or..?
Polliwog was scheduled to play inside after WMO's set, 'round 11pm, but after a flurry of behind the scenes negotiation, they agreed to play till shortly before 11 and turn over the stage for WMO to close down.
Inside, wet and surrounded in the crammed room, they did their best to blow up the spot. Unfortunately, their set was marred by a rough sound mix and much of the vocals and bottom end of guitar were lost. However, there was a transcendent moment right in the middle of the set when the lead guitarist was hunched over his axe, cajoling and entreating riffs, the lead singer was in the back intoning mantras, the bass player was rubberneckin' his funky ass off, the drummer was driving, and the DJ was locking it all together with well placed scratching and mixing. Promise of what they could become and well worth the admission.
Then it was finally time for WMO to PLAY! Andy (trombone/flute) was positively trembling with anticipation after waiting for six hours to take the stage, while the sufficiently sedated Sean laconically grinned as they wheeled their gear in. By 11:15 they were on and the room was ready. To the forefront strode Alley, whose acquaintance I did not make, as she and Chad are married with children, whom she was watching on the Stewart homestead during the day. In this evening of diva's, she easily took the crown. While Polliwog tried to inject sexuality and confidence into every step and song, Alley calmly took the stage and owned it like the woman she is. With the Orchestra rising and jelling behind her, she told the crowd of personal tales of betrayal, lost love, fleeting happiness, and the power of self determination. With Tim joining in on soulful harmonies and their banter prodding the band into higher and higher fields, WMO flowed like fine wine to slake our thirst. Out of nowhere, a monster guitar riff would assault you from the back left (Scott), or you would become aware of murderous keys from Sean bobbing along underneath the harmonies, the bass and drum's holding it righteously together, beautiful young girls on my right dancing crazily, bump and grind drunken lesbians on my left, nothing by dancing, dancing as far as you could see. A very good scene, all made possible by Polliwog generously giving up their stage time, a point that Tim put forth in many freestyle raps that bounced on the beat like candy bubbles.

Big Wu, or the Ghost of Michael Madsen
The Mason Jar - Phoenix, AZ
September 25, 1999
by Sam Fox
Scene- Low ceiling, flat black paint everywhere, many many many signed photos of 80's hair bands, under the bar-top every CD by pictured artists...
I had not been to the Mason Jar before, but I was eager to hear the Big Wu and the cover was reasonable ($6), especially given the standard show price 'round here (re: David Lee Roth + Van Halen cover band backing him = $30). The shame of that being presented as an event aside, the youthful crowd outside seemed jazzed and ready to go on a Saturday night. I was soon to discover that roughly 60% of the crowd was there to see a local high school-aged band called Oversized Load (huh-huh) who evidently spends much of their time in their basement listening to Blink-182 and Sublime. I will credit them with some sterling old skool covers of Eazy-E and Biz Markie songs, plus the display of an Oversized Load sign, the likes of which usually seen on the posterior of trailer houses on the highway. Their set went on long, and the kids up front ate it up. More power to 'em, they sounded good, nothing to make you jump up and say Hallelujah, but fun.
Tangent- The show was all ages, and as the bar was a long rectangle with the stage on one end and the bar along the right, there was this big fence erected to keep the kids from the evils of alcohol! It was kind of disturbing to see a show through a metal fence, especially with all this kids pressed in on the other side. To boot, as we played pool, the fallen leader of Green River was immortalized on the back wall (Green River sprouted Pearl Jam). He was effeminate to say the least. A very strange scene to check out music of this sort.
This thought was really driven home during the next bands abbreviated set. Horticulture was their name, and their first two songs reeked of promise. Heavily Dead influenced, with two drummers, a bass, and two guitars, the spinners appeared and much smiling was about as the lead singer wound us into their opening tune. Unfortunately, the sound man must have gotten all excited and jacked the sound up for the coming death metal showdown on Sunday night, cause the mix was muddy with bass and drums and MAD LOUD! The bass player blew his amp in the second song and the fill was engaging, a nice bit of drumz and space odes until they got tired of waiting and stopped, to wait. As the crowd surged to the bar, I reflected on this decision.
Then they fired up again, after borrowing the Big Wu's bass amp, and played a few more tunes before they had to quit. To sum up- promising, but pinned between a too long opener and technical difficulties. I took the opportunity to buy some earplugs, as I made the mistake of leaving mine at home. One thing I have learned about Phoenix bar shows is that they are REALLY LOUD!
Finally the Wu was taking the stage. After much mucking about, the first chords were hit. There was a loyal contingent of Minnesota folks in attendance and I quickly joined them at the forefront of the room. The mix problems persisted, meaning the lead guitar was totally lost beneath the over-amped bass and bass drum for the first three songs. However, the Viking faithful from the north soldiered on to victory.
I lack a setlist, but will elaborate to the best of my ability. With a hot opening number and a close second that straightened out much of the sonic dissonance, the boys launched into a rabble- rousing bluegrass tinged journey to inner space that the Colorado kings of that sound would be proud of. Thusly locked into a groove, and sounding clean, the night began in earnest. The lead singer introduced the keyboardist as the "Norwegian equivalent of a swiss-army knife", surrounded as he was by six sets of boards and a pedal steel guitar. Alternating between baby grand, saxophone and banjo synth, and the pedal steel, or sometimes all of the above with two hands, he lived up to the billing.
The dreadlocked lead guitarist, finally able to be heard, wasted no time in carrying the room to destinations unknown. As the song goes, Destination anywhere, east or west I don't care, and neither did the jubilant crowd, as we all shook and jellied into one ecstatic blob of groove and sweat.
The rhythm guitar/lead singer led most of the tunes, in particular a refreshing take on Casey Jones, which was equal parts ode and psychic odyssey into the nether. A rough and ragged triumphant chorus brought us back into the Jar, and everybody freaked.
All in all, a most enticing mix of sound from the Minnesota entry. I remarked to a friend that if they could pull off a two hour set in a place like this with such success, to see them on their home turf or properly miked would be a revelation. Many good people about and the kids who survived the Load were treated to a pleasant surprise.
For more information, check out their website (www.thebigwu.com) and take a gander at their CD, which does justice to their funky lakeside sound. The Big Wu- on their way to your town, and brother, they'll help ya party down.
Out from the desert, where life is stirring again...

Grabbed By the Lapels and Shaken
Widespread Panic
The Aerial Theatre - Houston, TX
September 28, 1999
by Chris Gardner
Set I: Holden Oversoul > Weak Brain, Narrow Mind, Aunt Avis > All Time Low, Dyin' Man > A of D > Blackout, Contentment Blues > Walk On Set II: Love Tractor >Worry > You Got Yours, Driving Song > Ain't No Use > Drums > Driving Song > Chunk of Coal > Porch Song
Encore: Gimme > Radio Child
It wasn't the weather, though the overbright purplish hue of a Houston night was somehow nice this night. It wasn't the crowd, which was spare due to the indoor, non-smoking, lotless nature of this downtown venue. It wasn't the lights or the sound system or the venue or the security or my state of mind or a series of delightful happenstances which congealed to create a sense of magic and wonder in my life or a free ticket or a great day or week coming to a head. Whatever it was, after four excellent but not earth-shattering shows, Widespread Panic stormed into Texas, grabbed me by the lapels, and shook me within an inch of my life screaming, "Now do you get it!" over and over.
I got it.
>From the Holden Oversoul opener in Houston to the shimmering and shifting Bubble of heart-wrenching beauty that was Low Spark>Disco>Low Spark in Austin, I was absorbed, engulfed, rapt, and at the whim and mercy of the band. Even looking at the setlists, I cannot recall a single moment when I wandered, lost interest, or even created enough distance to evaluate during the show. My setlist from Houston looks like this:
Holden> Damn
and I wrote the "damn" after the show.
The first set of Houston was one of the finest sets of music I had ever heard in my life. (Editor's note: Please not the use of the past perfect tense, as the author's opinion changed again very quickly)Holden fell into Weak Brain like a rock into quicksand. The energy of the small crowd was palpable before the first note, and Holden>Brain set the standard for the night as the boogie began with the first note. While Avis was solid, the All Time Low was bursting at the seams. The anticipation of the change and lead-in to the chorus had people twitching, and the payoff was eruptive. The Blackout was swaggering and stumbling and dancing all the way, and even Contentment seemed inevitable and perfectly placed this night. The version of Neil Young's Walk On to close left me speechless. It caught me completely off guard and suited the set perfectly.
We stepped outside for a set break smoke, half- wondering if we should even stick around for the certain let down in the second set. Fools were we. The Driving Song suite through Porch Song was absolutely exhausting. The transition into Ain't No Use is the switch that reminded me that no one in the world plays quite like Panic. They have a group consciousness that makes synchronized swimming look like free swim at the Y. Drums was predictably jaw-dropping, and Chunk of Coal back out of the Driving Song Sandwich made the crowd look like kids when the pinata breaks. Gimme was the pause that refreshes to open the encore. It is somehow easy for me to forget the strength and power of JB's voice. I can't explain it. He continually reminds me that yearning does have a sound. Radio Child churned and chugged into the station, and the crowd of a thousand screamed their thanks like three thousand couldn't have.
The crowd filtered out, some hooting and hollering, some shaking their heads, some laughing, and me turning numbers in my head, trying to rationalize a trip to the Backyard.

Just Like Home
The Backyard - Austin, TX
September 30 and October 1, 1999
by Kent Bell
What can I say except that the Backyard was all that it was cracked up to be, and the PANIC is better than ever. It was great finally seeing the boys after another hiatus (this one just a few months, not an entire year), and it was great to see so many friends and to make so many new ones...it truly felt "just like home." It was also the first time that I got to see many of the songs from the new album performed in person, as well as first times for "Sometimes", "Let It Rock" and "Little Lily" (aka "First Snow" or "Blue Girl").
I didn't see this mentioned, but Sunny suffered a hand injury prior to Thursday's show at the Backyard. Apparently he was doing some repairs to his bicycle while riding around Austin and he accidentally sliced his right thumb on a knife. The cut required 8 stitches, and some *ahem* pain medication. Except for the bandage on his hand you wouldn't have known, 'cause the "birdman playin' tiny little sideways bongos" was truly ragin' the entire time!
Here again, the setlist, and yes, there definitely is a *distinct* new song coming out of "Rebirtha"--no other tapers had this labeled, but I listened to it for a third time yesterday and it is definitely there. Anyone have a chance to ask the boys about this after the show?!
The Backyard - Austin, TX 9/30/99 I: She Caught The Katy, Tall Boy> Rock, Rebirtha> new song - still instrumental> Bear's Gone Fishin'> Little Lily> Pickin' up the Pieces>Knockin' 'Round the Zoo (approx. 62min)
II: Climb to Safety, 1 x 1, Who Do You Belong To?> Airplane> Take Off Jam, Papa's Home> Drums*> Papa's Home, Pilgrims> West Virginia> Ain't Life Grand (approx. 78min)
e: Sometimes *w/Larry Acquaviva on drums
For those that haven't been to the Backyard, it's well, quite like a backyard. Well, it would be your backyard if you decided to have a large deck surrounded by bars and then invited a couple thousand of your closest friends and your favorite band over. The lot was nice (and free!), albeit rather dusty, and security was basically non-existent. Start times were pretty early (7:30 for Th, 7:50 for F) because Bee Caves has an early curfew as I understand it. All the transitions labeled were super-tight and virtually seamless. The whole damn first set was a highlight, but I guess if you had to pick just one part it would be the "Knockin'" to close the set. "LittleLily" is really coming into her own, and there was a lot of good jamming in it. The "Climb to Safety" and "1 x 1" were absolutely MONSTROUS! "Sometimes" hit me hard even though it was the first time my ears had heard it in any form--can't wait to hear it some more. We went down to see Larry at Antone's after the show, and I was pretty impressed (and wasted!). Definitely a good time, but they came across as sort of amateur.
The Backyard - Round 2 10/1/99I:
I: Low Rider> Walkin', One Arm Steve> Machine> Barstools & Dreamers, Wondering> Blue Indian> Fishwater(approx. 55min)
II: Little Kin> Let It Rock, Travelin' Light, The Waker> Big Wooly Mammoth> Drums*> Surprise Valley> Chilly Water (approx. 75min)
e: Low Spark> Disco> Low Spark
*w/Larry Acquaviva on drums, 2 drummers from Tribal Nation on percussion
Again, the setlist almost speaks for itself. Transitions were very, very tight and the first set closed, just as Thursday's had, with a relatively mellow tune leading into a ripping one. For the first set we were standing 10 feet from the stacks in the Schoolszone and he was dropping major bombs. It doesn't seem like "Little Kin" appears in the rotation too frequently any more, so it was nice to hear it again. The "Traveling Light" was extra-percussive and JB was throwin' all sorts of vocal ad libs all night. It was my first time witnessing the lighter throwing spectacle in "Big Wooly Mammoth"...I was under the impression that lighters were sort of "lobbed" on stage, but man, people were just whippin' those things at Jojo. It's no wonder JB and Schools have to "Climb to Safety", and poor Mikey. It was cool that people were throwin' glowsticks too--I got my first taste to that when I went to see Phish, and it was an incredibly cool visual (plus, you can see what's about to hit you vs. lighters). I'm always craving a "Disco", hell, they could play it every show and I wouldn't get tired of it...I thought I was about to go without, but *BOOM* it popped right out in the middle of "Low Spark"--we were all goin' nuts! Anyway, it was a great time down in Austin!

Standing In the Desert With a Hook and Reel
Phish and Trey with Leftover Salmon
Phoenix, AZ and Las Cruces, NM
Late September
by Rob Winkler
Now I had heard lots of people speculating as to whether the Phish boys would show up for this, but I have to admit thinking there was no way this would actually happen. Boy am I glad I was wrong. When Trey showed up on that stage in the second set, the 500 or so people in the audience all realized the magnitude of this event and went absolutely apeshit! Trey had a big old grin on his face for the whole 30 minutes or so that he was up there, and he fit in like a pro, throwing down some well-crafted bluegrass solos, trading licks expertly with the banjo player, and even singing some backing vocals, all the while obviously learning the songs on the fly. He even hammed it up and did some "Meatstick" dance moves at one point while the Salmon boys were soloing, for the amusement of the Phish crazies in the crowd. The after-show party that a few of us had the inside scoop on was also graced with Trey's presence, along with the rest of the Salmon boys and most of Phish (I never saw Page, but heard he was lurking on the tour bus nearby). It was so great to see them so down-to-earth, chatting with my friends, in a backyard I knew well and had partied in countless times before. Man, what a night!
The next day we all took the whole day off for work/skipped classes in anticipation of the evening to come. Made our way out to the venue in the middle of the afternoon, surprised to see how calm the lot scene was. The venue is about 8 miles outside of town in the high desert, with beautiful views of the nearby mountain ranges in every direction. The lot, while big and dusty, was one of the most subdued Phish lots I've seen in at least 3 years. Plus, nary a policeman or security go onto be seen anywhere. There were, however, a lot of drugs being offered and sold, particularly of the Molly variety, which seems to be the new "big thing" these last couple of years.
Once inside the venue, we staked a spot about 10 feet from the stage and waited for things to get rolling. The venue is a large, flat, grassy field (normally dusty, but we had a lot of rain the last few months) with vending of all sorts around the perimeter. They even had a couple of stands selling mixed drinks and (ack!) shots. Plenty to satisfy almost everyone's tastes, I think. The venue never got near as full as I've seen it for most other shows I've seen at Pima County Fairgrounds. Only about 6000 were in attendance, and I've seen over 15,000 here for Santana shows. (Carlos is really popular down here near the International border.) I think the field could hold over 30,000 if somebody really wanted it to, but they would certainly need delay towers for the folks in the back. Finally, as the sun was disappearing behind the mountains in a glorious display of colors reflecting off the high wispy clouds (people were really tripping out on this sunset!), the boys came out and let us have it.
I: Poor Heart, Sample in a Jar, Split Open and Melt, Drowned, I Didn't Know, Get Back on the Train, Birds of a Feather, Theme From the Bottom, Golgi Apparatus
Poor Heart and Sample were standard versions, but a lot of fun, and you just knew something BIG was right around the corner. Split was just what the doctor ordered, and had some madness in the early parts of the jam. It never peaked out the way most versions I've heard do though, and seemed to end prematurely. Still, very nice. Then came what was for me the highlight of the show - their cover of The Who's "Drowned". Every version I've seen of this has had a HUGE, jaw-dropping jam, and this version was no different. My senses were bludgeoned by this one. The light show just keeps getting better and better every time I see them as well, by the way - Chris Kuroda has got to be the best light man in the business these days. When Drowned finally came to an end, the madness just continued with the a cappella insanity of I Didn't Know, complete with a Fishman vacuum solo, something I haven't seen for a few years. Next came the new funked out bluegrass-y number, Get Back on the Train, which seemed to have everybody dancing even though most had never heard it before. Birds of a Feather was not an exceptional version, but Theme was glorious, and Golgi rocked us on out to the set break. We just sat and waited for set 2, too comfortable in our spot in the grass 10 feet from the stage to move anywhere during the break.
II: Carini, Bug, Strange Design, Vultures > Limb By Limb, Will It Go Round In Circles, Dirt, Antelope
To be honest, set 2 did not do that much for me, and I think the set list was quite a strange juxtaposition of songs. Carini always seems to portend a dark and ominous mood, the jam was pretty heavy, but not nearly as extended as the Carini Set 2 opener on last year's New Year's run. Bug was a new one to me, and I'm still not sure what to make of it. Pretty mellow, but a furious Trey solo to end it. Strange Design was beautiful, and so sweet to hear Page sing. Also, good to hear Vultures back in steady rotation again, and the jam got into some pretty interesting spaces before segueing (the only segue of the night that I heard) into Limb by Limb. These two songs seem to be played in the same set every time these days, which I don't quite understand, and this was not a real good version of Limb. Plus, Fishman really flubbed the ending. Next came my first version of the Billy Preston funk song, Will It Go Round in Circles. Pretty raw sounding, I thought, and not particularly jammed out, but finally had everybody dancing for the first time in the second set. Dirt slowed things up and showed Trey's tender side, but I felt it was a bit sloppy. Antelope is always a great, high-energy way to end a set, and this one featured some great exploratory jamming in the early parts. However, I thought the build-up and peak were a bit rushed and again sloppy.
E: Reba, Bold As Love
I'd been calling for a Reba all night, like after practically every song, but I'd about given up at this point. Needless to say, I was ecstatic. The first one of the tour, they didn't completely nail the composed parts, but the jam was oh so beautiful. Like the Melt in the first set, they never really peaked it out like most other versions I've heard, but it was still quite nice. Then, just when the whistling part of Reba would normally start (not that they've been doing that part at all lately), Page launched into the opening line of one of my absolute favorite songs that Phish covers - the great Hendrix song "Bold as Love". Beautiful, I tell ya. Trey took the solo to screaming heights - Jimi woulda been proud. GREAT encore!
The after show lot scene was bustling, and there was plenty of food, beer and goodies for everyone, and practically NO COPS. Loved it. Unfortunately, things apparently got ugly for a few people after many had left. Since the rumors have spread far and wide, I'll touch on this. The rumors we heard everywhere the next day were that some tour kid was beaten nearly to death for selling bunk vials of liquid acid, and that he'd died of his injuries the next morning. Well, I guess the only part of that story that wasn't true is that the kid definitely did not die. A friend of mine was working the ambulance crew that night and he said that he had a minor concussion and they released him early the next morning. Unfortunately, the hype that followed this whole incident was a huge buzzkill for those of us that witnessed a really wonderful day at the Pima County Fairgrounds.
The next day, a few of us made the four-and-a-half hour trek to the little town of Las Cruces, NM. I've never even heard of ANYONE playing in this town. Gotta respect Phish for going out of their way to play to the fans that love them in all corners of the country!
The show was performed at the Pan American Center, which is a small-ish basketball arena on the campus of New Mexico State University. When we arrived at the lot, it looked as if there were quite a few people trying to vend just about everything, and quite a few cops trying to stop them. Just about everywhere we looked there were cops. We quickly moved past that scene and into the venue, which on the inside reminded me a bit of Hampton Coliseum as far as size and setup. Definitely pretty intimate for one of these types of arenas. They were real tight about not letting anyone on to the floor without a marked floor ticket and wristband, so there was ample dancing room on the floor, and I even found it really easy to wander up the side of the floor and find a spot only 15 feet or so from the stage in the middle of the second set.
I: Also Sprach Zarathustra > Chalkdust Torture, Guelah Papyrus, Axilla, My Mind's Got a Mind of It's Own, Beauty of My Dreams, Bathtub Gin, Free Thought, Sand, Waste
A 2001 opener immediately had me thinking this was going to top the previous night's show. On the ride out to Las Cruces we had discussed the venue's proximity to the notorious Roswell, NM, site of the most hyped of all UFO sightings - they even have a UFO Museum there - and hoped that the band would tune into this idea and deliver an "alien show", perhaps with a Forbin>Mockingbird story about aliens and UFOs. Also Sprach tapped right into this vein, and I was real psyched as I'd never heard of it opening a FIRST set before (though I'm pretty sure it must have somewhere).That was where the "alien" thread ended though. This version featured Trey favoring his new keyboard over his guitar, and wasn't one of the more exploratory versions I've heard. Chalkdust really kicked the energy into high gear, and Guelah and Axilla continued the it. Things got real fun with Mike singing the bluegrass ditty, Mind's Got a Mind. I was calling for a Bathtub at the end of this, but instead we got another bluegrass number, Trey singing Del McCoury's Beauty of My Dreams. This song has really improved since they first started playing it, I think. THEN came the Bathtub, the highlight of the first set for most that I talked to. Not really much in the way of "Type 2" jamming, just a long Trey-led rave-up with some very interesting textures - basically, '99 style. Next up was Free Thought, a moderate-length instrumental that has a Latin feel to it, and then Sand, a cool song with a very repetitive groove and a long jam which gave us more of cosmic Trey soloing similar to the Bathtub jamming. The set ended on a very mellow note with Waste - I was certainly not expecting the set to end after this song, but they sure do keep you guessing.
II: Gotta Jiboo, Ghost > Taste, Brian & Robert, Mike's Song >Simple -> Train Song, Weekapaug Groove
Set 2 started us off dancing with the super-funky Jiboo. Well, the rhythm section is real funky on this song, and Mike's recent work with the Funky Meters down in N'Awlins seems to have piqued his interest in laying down a REAL funk groove, solid, not like the "phunk" grooves (which I love) that we started getting lots of from him back around '97. The music coming from Trey & Page in this Jiboo was anything but funky, though - more like dissonant space. An odd combination, but much fun, and pure Phish. Next up was Ghost, which probably raged as hard as anything they played all night. Not an epic version, though, just really good. This segued into Taste, which was a pretty standard version. Definitely not up there with the amazing summer '97 versions. Brian & Robert was extremely mellow as usual. Trey's not doing the Robert Fripp thing on his guitar in this song any more, and it was a lot more like the acoustic tour versions, I suppose. Mike's got everyone moving again, and the jam was blistering and often dissonant. This dropped right into Simple after the "post-tramps" jam (though they haven't used trampolines in this song for many years now).Simple was beautiful, and the interplay between the band members in the jam was probably the best I heard all night. It was one of the few jams of the night that didn't sound like 90% Trey to my ears. This segued into Trainsong, another really mellow song, but one that I love. The expected Weekapaug closed the set and raged hard, but wasn't particularly long or exploratory.
E: La Grange
Awww, yeah, this was really fun. My first Phish version ever of this ZZTop classic, and Mike had me cracking up with his deadpan vocal delivery. You could tell they were getting themselves and everyone on tour ready to head on over to Texas. Trey basically shredded the jam, '99-style, with lots of textures that would never have ANYBODY thinking this was ZZTop playing the song.
We drove back to Tucson all night long, arriving shortly before the sun came up, satisfied with the 4-show run (which also included Chula Vista and Irvine, but that's a different review). Work was awful the next day, but Phish is worth it. :^)

Panic Strikes the Celebrity Theatre!
Widespread Panic
The Celebrity Theatre - Phoenix, AZ
October 5, 1999
by Sam Fox
Spreadheads invade peaceful megalopolitan area! Dateline: Tuesday Oct. 5th 1999 Location: The Celebrity Theatre, N. 32nd St. Phoenix AZ
As we wheeled into the gated lot, there were already heads out and about, partaking and prodding the scene alive. As always, It's good to be home. The venue was rumored to be the best place in town to see a show but the squat round profile did not inspire belief in these accolades. Only when you passed through the full bar, down a flat yellow hallway, and up a set of stairs flanked by velvet walls did you realize what lay ahead. A small round stage resides in the middle of the room and seats wash out accordingly. The seat at the very back wall is 75 feet from the stage, effectively giving all in attendance the sense that you are in someone's living room. This is intimacy, and you could see the glow in the Southern Spreadheads eyes as they drank the setting in like fine moonshine.
Widespread Panic has been relentlessly touring and playing for quite some time now, and they are poised on the edge of the double edged sword of breakthrough. Their most recent album, Till the Medicine Takes, is reportedly a shot at commercial radio acceptability. However, do not fear faithful, their (to the uninitiated) unintelligible lyrics will filter out the less than dedicated rather quickly I imagine.
Again, the fiercely vital underground scene in Phoenix failed to materialize, leaving plenty of room for the following flock to drink in the night. We swiftly found an eighth row seat to the left of the soundboard and settled in. With a hefty hour and a half wait before showtime, there was plenty of time to meet many crazy people.
Panic is nothing to fuck around with. Their music and fan base is honest and loyal, and like to get LOADED and have a good time. Many friendly cocksure southern accents about and much much MUCH buzz about the room and the night. As their tour had just made it across Texas and was headed to San Diego, this was by far the smallest room in recent memory and it was positively ALIVE with anticipation. In the south, Panic plays huge venues, amphitheaters, and arenas, so this tiny room was a taste treat for the faithful who made the trip. People were partyin' folks, and with a cash bar in the room, we wuz just beginnin'. Promptly about eight p.m. the lights dropped, a nice surprise, and the roar rattled the rivets in the roof. The guys strode up the short walk to the middle of the room and smiled about them. Widespread panic resulted.
Viewing this band at this proximity is roughly similar to having your brain used as Parkay on the worlds largest blueberry muffin. Thankfully, the levels were adjusted for the room and the tapes should reflect the clarity and subtlety of the tonal interplay. Apparently Panicweb.com, the setlist posting site has been shutdown momentarily due to invasive hackers, so all my apologies to 'heads for rolling through the show! The opener was predicted by many, Goin' Out West, by Tom Waits, I believe, and set the bar for the night. The sound was killer, the lights were on track, and the joint was jumpin'! Blackout is the third song, and one of few I recognized, as it is one of my favorites from the MT shows last October. There was a tremendous Sleeping Man in there, many funk undertones, and a host of crowd favorites that provoked serious singalongs and fist pumping.
All too quickly it seemed we were at the intermission and the vibe was still ridin' high. At this time I must give a public service announcement regarding the female Spreadheads.
In my brief experience with this band and the genre as a whole, Panic has produced the most attractive female crowd by far. I must say that the combination of Southern belle's and Phoenix beautiful ladies was a match made in heaven. Widespread brings the ladies in, sho' nuff! Yes, yes y'all, back to the show...
Suitably re-liquored, smoked, and jacked, the crowd was positively shaking with anticipation when the lights hit. Again I must apologize for the incoherent song listings but due to deadlines and cyberspace issues, we must go on. In particular, a seriously pop-ified and arena-ready Climb to Safety got the crowd slidin' and jumpin', as well as showcasing some very interesting interplay between JB and the lead guitarist, as they took turns exploring the corners of the small room. Rushing WAY ahead, the high point of the night IMO was a stirring rendition of Wish You Were Here, the simple Pink Floyd classic. The whole room was singing and swaying, and lost in reflection and hope. As my friend said this morning, meltdown. That led into more Panic-inducing rock and roll, which in time segued into drumz, which built up into a rhythm section jam, culminating in everybody back up and launching into, I believe, Conrad the Caterpillar, which blew the roof off. That is your entertainment dollar, folks.
The encore was stirring, and yet again I must let my Panic song ignorance shine gloriously forth, but rest assured it was suitably soothing then spine-jarringly loud. As they left the stage, the sound man popped in Have A Cigar, off of the Floyd album Wish You Were Here. "Come in here dear boy, have a cigar, you're gonna go far..."
Blown, twisted, and pleasantly exhausted, my cohort and I slumped blissfully into some open seats. The straightlaced guy at his first show next to us had disappeared, as did the 'shrooming older hippie behind us. 'Heads circled about, rejoicing in the show and making crash plans, then onto San Diego! " Goin' out west, they'll appreciate me..."
For more accurate Widespread Panic information and setlists, check the connections linx through their homepage, www.widespreadpanic.com, and check 'em out in your hometown!

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