In honor of our 250th issue, we moderated a discussion among three of our scene’s leading lights to discuss the past, present and future of the musical environment that Relix emerged from some 40 years ago. While that environment is constantly changing—as new bands explode onto the scene and older bands fade away—Phil Lesh, Warren Haynes and John Bell continue to push creative and improvisational envelopes.

A quick glance at their respective touring schedules this summer is a good indicator of how tenacious these artists remain in their desire to play—and, most important, to improvise—in front of large audiences. For fans able to attend festivals such as Mountain Jam or Lockn’, it was possible to see all three of these musicians during one weekend.

Here, they provide insight into the artistic process both onstage and offstage while also reflecting on their own journeys.

Who were your role models at the onset of your career and how have they changed over time?

WARREN HAYNES: For me, personally, it’s a strange question to answer because I look at role models in different ways. As an example, I took a lot of cues from Miles Davis in the way of not always doing what people expected you to do, not ever being happy with what you are doing and looking for the next thing to make you happy. But, I don’t think that would make him a role model, so to speak.

My dad was at work from the time I woke up in the morning—he would call to wake me up to go to school and he would work till sometimes 10 or 10:30 at night, so there were a lot of times my two older brothers and myself were fending for ourselves because my dad was paying the bills and we were raised predominantly by him. My folks divorced when I was really young, so I’m sure a lot of my work ethic came from him and a lot of my sense of what integrity is.

JOHN BELL: Anyone from George Carlin to Van Morrison—that would probably be a succinct enough answer. And that hasn’t really changed over time. George Carlin would play on words and roll with that kind of imagination, and then somebody like Van Morrison—who’s rock and roll but has realized there’s more of a jazz and spiritual influence, and definitely a stream ofconsciousness kind of thing—the way he approached music.

PHIL LESH: My artistic heroes were Charles Ives and John Coltrane. They remain so.

Talk about the last time you felt musically challenged or felt like you were working without a net. Is there a defining moment in the past two years?

LESH: That happens to some extent every night that we play. There’s always some moment where you feel like you’ve stepped into an empty elevator shaft, as Coltrane said about playing with Monk. There’s no favorite show and no favorite song—it’s beyond all that. It’s meta all of that. Everything else is secondary. What else could reach that level of necessity? That’s my reason for existence.

HAYNES: The scared part—let’s talk about the Jerry Garcia Symphonic Celebration—starting with the fact that I was a nervous wreck going into it because I have never worked with a symphony or put myself in a situation where there were moments where improvisation was not an option. Fast-forward to the first night we did “Stella Blue,” which was in Raleigh, [when] I added a bar in the bridge like I am prone to do. I had sung that song many times with Phil Lesh & Friends and The Dead, and it was always one of those things where if you added a bar, the band would follow you and it was no big deal. The symphony doesn’t do that. So the next thing you know, there [are] opposing sections of the same song being played simultaneously. [Laughs.]

BELL: I’d say just last night I felt musically challenged. You just got to face it. We went up without a soundcheck and it didn’t feel like my hands were connected; [like they weren’t] speaking to each other properly for the first couple of songs—that happens. It happens when you play golf, too, if you get out on the golf course without hitting a few practice shots. The only time working without a net was back in the day when I played by myself because beyond that, after meeting Mike [Houser] and Dave [Schools] and the rest of the guys, all of a sudden, there’s your net. There’s strength in numbers as far as that goes.

Is it easier or more challenging to get to that place in live shows—those transcendent moments—now versus at the beginning of your career?

HAYNES: It’s easier to do it when you are under less pressure and when there is not as big of an audience. It’s been in the last 10 years that I have actually done that: I have gotten to a point where I have gotten better at losing myself. I have learned a lot about how to go about that from working with all the different people who are great at doing that. And I have often thought about that when you’re on a major show, do you purposefully not go as far out
into uncharted waters as you would on a lower-pressure show? That is probably the case with a lot of us or all of us to a certain extent—it’s like the old
adage that the best shows were the ones that weren’t being recorded. The nights you are recording, you tend to think too much and as soon as the truck rolls out and is no longer recording, you have your best show on the tour.

LESH: It’s always been pretty much the same. You can’t push a button or flip a switch and draw that energy—draw that spirit down. You can’t coerce or seduce the muse. The muse comes to you when the music is ready and what you can do too is open yourself up to that every night. Walk onto the stage and be open: “I’m here if you want me. If you want to talk to me I’m here.” That’s how it’s been since the very beginning.

BELL: It’s probably easier now because we have more control over our musical environment. The equipment is consistent, the PA is consistent and you don’t have to cite the idea of just a crummy house PA or something like that. But then again, you’re always grateful for those moments because you know there’s a difference between everybody playing well and then, taking it one step further, where it’s into a more meditative state. And it’s one of those things where, if you’re trying too hard, you’re going to sabotage that experience. So it’s a situation where you have to be in control of what you’re doing, but you also have to loosen up and lose control and just go with it. You can tell when the moment’s there because you can hear that everybody else is listening and responding—it’s like being in a conversation where you can tell everybody’s on the same page.

From your perspective as an artist, to what degree do you feel that the live experience of concerts has been overly commodified?

HAYNES: Let’s start with all the endorsement and product-placement stuff that is part of it. The names of the venues no longer have their classic names—they have the name of whoever is paying them money for the next year. That’s a real drag, but this is something I could go on and on about. The whole concept of paying $20-$25 to park closer to the venue for VIP parking: I understand it, and I am even guilty because this is my life and my world so if I go to a concert, I want to feel the VIP experience, too. But I think it’s gotten to a point that the average rock-and-roll fan can’t afford to go to a show.

BELL: Well, as always, there are different factions of the industry trying to cash in. But when it comes to the music itself, that’s pretty untouchable if you stand your ground. And we’ve obviously not gone into a commercial type of application of our music. But you know, some bands do, and that’s a personal choice. And there are so many kinds of genres and audience types out there. There’s something for everybody. But yeah, there’s a lot of commercialism out there—everything from glow sticks to advertising on the tickets.

LESH: That’s something that is inevitable. It’s a basic human thing. But I came here to move minds. I came here to transport people out of their daily awareness and into a more communal spirit. So as far as I’m concerned, however it has to happen.

While Jerry Garcia’s passing was a tragic loss to the music community and the Grateful Dead suddenly wasn’t touring, it allowed many bands who followed a similar model to gain much more traction. Was that ultimately a good thing?

HAYNES: Deadheads need other bands to listen to and, for the most part, it’s a dichotomy because Deadheads—especially the hardcore ones—only like
the Dead and very little else. And in some cases, they might find one of the jambands that they wanted to follow, musically speaking, after Jerry’s passing, but there were just as many people that decided to stay home at that point.

BELL: Personally, Jerry was a big influence on me as far as the way he communicated the songs. I was very surprised when I realized that, lyrically, he was working with somebody else because—to my ears and my experience in watching concerts—his interpretation and vocal stylings seemed to come from the heart and the soul. I was amazed that he hadn’t written the lyrics himself. And the way he played guitar was like his guitar was speaking as well. It was embellishing the imagery that was coming through in the song. So when he passed, that was a drag. We’re lucky to have the Grateful Dead as they were, and the remaining folks that are out there now, still plugging away.

HAYNES: It’s hard to convince a hardcore Deadhead that there is other music that’s alluring and equal but in a different way, and that is OK because I have always spoken about the fact that music is a personal thing—what you like is what you like. No one can change the fact that I like something or the fact that I don’t like it, and it should be like that with every music lover.

BELL: There was undeniably a lot of folks that—the Grateful Dead had embraced jug-band music, improvisational stuff and different styles of music—were introduced not only to the Grateful Dead but to other forms of music and in a doorway where that musical exploration was very acceptable. It was a fun way to approach playing together and learning how to play together with your bandmates. And that’s still happening. But there are a lot of different audience types, a lot of different music types, a lot of different ways to use the stage. For us, we groove more on the improvisational, rock-and-roll side.

How important is it for bands to record albums for physical release in this age of live shows and digital releases?

LESH: I frankly don’t think there’s any reason to do it. I don’t want to do it myself. That said, I think [with my sons] Grahame and Brian and their bands, so far, what they do is they will make a record and they will distribute it digitally and they will also have CDs that they sell at their shows. That seems to be the model that they’re following. There are so many potential avenues of distribution that really, you can’t single out one that’s superior to the other.

HAYNES: I don’t know how important it is—it seems more important to me than it probably is in reality because I grew up with vinyl records, gatefolds, oversized artwork, concept records and the idea of an album being a collection of songs that were intentionally put together. But, some fans don’t view it the same way. I have a theory that we are in a similar place right now—not so much that I operate in but culturally speaking, in the music business and the world of commercial music—to where it was in the mid-‘60s prior to Sgt. Pepper’s.

I’m hoping that is what is going to happen because, you know, if I were a 15-year-old kid and I decided to download The Dark Side of the Moon, if I just started with one of the songs, I might not get it—but if I listen to the whole thing the way it was intended, I would definitely get it.

BELL: It’s important because it’s fun to work in the studio and it gives you a balance between playing live and doing the studio thing, which is more like a painting where you can sit there and add paint and mix colors and do basically whatever you want, for however long you want, till you dig what’s going on, on the canvas. And with a live performance, that’s a one-shot deal. And I see great value in both of them. They support each other, too—the positive aspects of one lead to the other.

What impact do you think the proliferation of festivals has had over the jamband scene in the last decade?

LESH: It all began from a desire of musicians to play outside for people dancing under the sky and under the trees and at night under the stars. That’s
how it started with us in San Francisco playing for free in The Panhandle. As time went on, more people were attracted to that and it grew. The big difference now is it’s a commercial situation—people spend money and a lot of people make money—but it’s really not that different.

BELL: With festivals, you’ve got every kind of music coming together. Bonnaroo’s a great example: They mix up the lineup all the time—anywhere from The Police to Neil Young and Emmylou Harris. They had some hip-hop acts cooking over the years, Paul McCartney this last time—that one came out of left field for me. [Laughs.] The best thing about the festivals is that it brings all the different kinds of music together in one place for a weekend; folks can really get exposed to a great variety and, there again, it’s just bands.

LESH: It’s a great thing to see all the festivals springing up. It’s a really enjoyable way to see and hear music. I can see why they’re so popular. It also means more work for us and we’re very happy about that. The vibe of the people who are coming to the festival—they’re leaving their lives behind to come out and be a part of a community and just dig music and dig each other. It’s great and I hope it continues.

HAYNES: Festivals are a big part of the music scene in general these days because people can’t afford to go see every show they want to see, so a festival is an opportunity to see a lot of bands at once and get a lot of bang for your buck. Having said that, a lot of the festivals that started out as jamband festivals—at some point, they decided that in order to carry that into the future, they had to widen the scope and not make it strictly a jamband festival. Because if that were the case, you would have a lot of the same bands year after year. So why not add bands that are coming from a different direction? I know we’ve done that with our festival, Mountain Jam. But I think sometimes that philosophy can go a little bit too far, too. And the original concept gets diluted—but it’s not up to me to decide that.

BELL: The idea of jambands—that definition or image is kind of wearing thin. It’s becoming less [of ] a genre because folks are finding themselves musically, and bands are finding their own approach to music that makes everything—you know, all the bands are different from each other, so it’s almost not fair to try to fit them into a category like that. Personally, I go back to something standard like rock and roll, or blues or jazz. With those definitions, you can play your own type of music and express yourself in a unique fashion, but those genres are never diminished by the passage of time.

Does it surprise you that you have young fans?

HAYNES: We always hoped that would be the case. And it’s starting to happen more, largely because there are certain generations of music fans who feel they got ripped off and they’re starting to look backward. Teenagers are discovering Hendrix, Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd for the first time and it’s impacting them the way it’s impacting us. And we’re one of those bands that keeps all those things that made us play music in the first place alive. So, some young fans might get an experience at a Gov’t Mule show or [with] a Gov’t Mule record that they’re only gonna get from those kind of bands. And that’s a positive thing: It means that they’re listening open-mindedly and searching for more than just the immediate.

LESH: I’m very grateful for that but, to me, it shows the strength of the repertoire and of our approach to making music. If that’s what moves on into the future, then that’s a good thing.

BELL: I feel fortunate and I do notice it because as I get older, they still kind of look the same. [Laughs.] But I think every generation has a group of folks that really groove on not coming into things with expectations and to see something new unfold.

You’ve all lost a founding member of your band. Could you talk about the process of how you move forward—whether you continue as the same band or a different one? And after some time since their passing, have your sentiments or feelings changed?

HAYNES: I don’t think there’s any way to know how different the path we forged with [Allen] Woody is than the path we would have forged with him would be because we never wanted to stay where we were. We always wanted to expand and not look back and continue to utilize more of our influences. When Woody passed away, we were given no choice. If we were gonna stay together, we were gonna have to rely on a new, fresh chemistry because—as I’ve mentioned many times in previous interviews—to search for the same chemistry you just lost is futile, and nobody wants to try and clone someone. So you wind up looking for a chemistry that’s different and, hopefully, potentially as good in a different sort of way. That’s the most anyone can hope for under those circumstances. But it forces you to rethink every step that you take.

This is something I thought about recently. We’re probably in a similar place to where we would have been had Woody lived. But there’s no way that it could be the same, and there’s no way you could know what that difference would have been because [with] any band, especially bands that are as concerned about expansion and growth as we are, it’s inevitable that you’re going to wind up somewhere different. The scary thing is how similar Jorgen Carlsson—our new bass player for five years now—is to Allen Woody in the way he thinks, the way he sounds, his approach to music. It’s ironic. So in certain ways, we’ve come full circle and revisited the past more since Jorgen joined than we ever did prior. But it’s a nice balance now. We’re respecting and accepting the past but not resting there.

BELL: Obviously, it’s never going to be easy. Especially when you’re a collaborative band. All the guys in our band, we learned to play together, but we also learned how to play without learning traditional ways of playing—we each discovered our own way of playing, and then playing together.

Mike’s first way of playing guitar was one of the least recognizable forms, with his use of the volume petal, and basically, he never learned a lick—he just learned to play along with music on his own. So there was nothing really traditional about the way he played. It was all Michael’s personality. So we lost that, but there again, there were still five of us, still there plugging away, not to mention all of the folks that are part of the Widespread Panic family. We have some other considerations to think of as far as keeping families and their jobs, and their health concerns and basic stuff like that—the business end of things. We also thought it was probably the best medicine for our process to continue playing. And so that’s what we did.

And now, we’ve had Jimmy for six or seven years. We knew each other for a long time, and so the way we approached music and songwriting was not foreign to Jimmy. So he’s a different cat with different talents—a lot of them, a lot of talent. And most important, there’s a friendly rapport between all the band members. We still call it Widespread Panic. We still play, we write new songs and we still play our old catalog. But in essence, it’s a slightly different band because one of the components has changed with a new personality.

Are the challenges greater for new artists now or when you began your career? What advice do you have for younger artists today?

HAYNES: There used to be a thing called artist development. And when a new artist or a new band got signed, there was a pool of money set aside to help that band develop its career and there were people who were assigned to that same task. And with some labels, you got more than two or three chances. Some labels, if you were developing an audience and they had faith in you, then they would continue to allow you to make record after record after record. But at the very minimum, you got two or three records. But these days, if a major label spends money on your first record and it’s not successful, you don’t make a second record.

LESH: The challenges are always great, no matter when you start or who you are. When you’re starting at the bottom, the slope is all the same. In the old days, you’d get a record contract, you’d tour behind your records, and then, you’d become a big star if you sold records. Then, that sort of crumbled and the touring artists now are the engine that’s driving the industry, rather than record sales.

The Internet has not made it easier for artists to break through because there’s so much [music on it]. How do you find your way through it if you’re a consumer? The challenges are still all the same: Find an audience and get your music out to them.

BELL: As much as you can, share equally what’s happening as far as the creative process goes, be forgiving, be understanding of each other and [try] not to be too protective of what you might call your own material. After a while, you’re in there together for so long that I couldn’t really say—even if a whole song comes out of me—it would’ve never have happened without this relationship with the other guys. So the biggest pitfalls to avoid are the rock-star ego mentality. That wears thin on people around you. But ego’s gonna be there. There’s always a little personal tug-of-war with that anyway. But it’s best to recognize that—well, look at your bandmates as your No. 1 allies, as your nets.

HAYNES: One piece of advice is don’t limit your influences to the previous one or two decades. You gotta dig deeper and go further back if you really want to find your own voice and establish longevity and compete with the people who have made a lot of the greatest music ever made. Another would be: If you don’t feel like this is what you want to do with the rest of your life, then just enjoy it from a casual standpoint and don’t put the pressure of having to pay your bills with music on yourself.

LESH: It’s always a question of how do you put your music where it will be heard by the largest number of people who will like it. It’s not so much the scattergun approach, but what I think you want to do today is find where your audience is or develop your own audience and play to them and, as you do so, that audience will grow. People will tell their friends to check it out. Word of mouth is still the best advertising. We always have to make music that seems true to us. In the beginning—and all the way through—the goal is, “Play music to people. Play music to people.” It’s that simple.