NYC ROLL-TOP: Beating the Chill

May Jah rain blessings upon Johnny B. Fishman's pointy little head. Besides
his impossibly low-key country-funk outfit, Pork Tornado (not to mention his
work with quasi-outsider metal GJ. Willis Pratt) the Phish drummer
hasn't engaged in many side projects, and certainly none with the ambition
of his bandmates. So, it's always nice to see Burlington buddy Jamie
Masefield pull the increasingly defrocked musician off his family-bound
keister and out on tour with the Jazz Mandolin Project. Because, well, that
means that we get to hear Fish play jazz (or somethin' like it), and it
means that Masefield gets to have one of the most compatibly sensitive
musicians on the planet play behind him.

It was due to the aforementioned ambitions of Phish keyboardist Page
McConnell that the Jazz Mandolin Project opened for McConnell's Vida Blue at
New York's Roseland Ballroom on January 9th — a step up for the rotating
cast of Masefield's compatriots, who usually find themselves in smaller
rooms. It was a happy surprise, then, that the JMP – comprised this outing
of Masefield, Fishman, bassist Danton Boller, and trumpeteer/keyboardist Mad
Dog – translated so well to Roseland's echo chamber. Fishman's drumming was
clear and precise behind Masefield's mandolin abstractions, which have been
getting further out in recent years, while still retaining the old-fashioned
romanticism of his chosen instrument. It is ironic, in a way, that – of all
the Phish-related projects – it is their drummer's which is the least
groove-oriented. Or maybe it just makes perfect sense. But, either way, the
JMP's set was incredibly fluid, though reigned in by Masefield's
occasionally dissonant melodies. In a perfect world, they would've been
headlining, instead of the other way around.

Which isn't to say that Vida Blue's set wasn't fun, which it was, it just
wasn't – perhaps – the most amount of fun one could have with all of
the given components. Yes, back to ambition. For his second album as a
bandleader, McConnell recruited the Miami-based Spam Allstars, a
drum-machine driven Afro-Cuban collective led by DJ Le Spam, to accompany
himself and the rhythm section of bassist Oteil Burbridge and drummer
Russell Batiste. The resulting album, The Illustrated Band, is good
fun, but nothing particularly special — which is to say that it's sort of
generally special (or maybe particularly normal, but whatever, the music
sounds familiar upon first listen and doesn't yield too many hidden
pleasures, it's just a good time).

He brought 'em along on tour, too. The stage at Roseland was bloody well
packed — McConnell at the far right, with his baby grand piano and Phish
accoutrements, Burbridge and Batiste lost in the coterie of Spammers: two
percussionists, a DJ, a guitarist, and a couple of horn players. At its
best, the music was airy and light, propelled by a half-dozen or more
interlocking parts, and sounding – in places – like the expanded band that
played on the Talking Heads' Remain In Light (and its accompanying
tours). But, unlike the Heads in the early '80s, who had David Byrne's
neurotic vocals and Adrian Belew's righteously freaked out guitar squalls,
there was nothing to focus Vida Blue. For better or worse, as the marquee
name, McConnell was jacked up in the mix. It was nice to hear, but it's as
if he just doesn't have it in his nature to aggressively lead a band.

The irony is that Vida Blue and the Spam Allstars is the group Trey
Anastasio occasionally seemed to want to be leading with his own hippieified
big band, but was too much of a control freak to let develop. Vida Blue was
fluid, but all fluid — even McConnell's cover of Radiohead's
"Subterranean Homesick Alien" and his dips into the Phish songbook couldn't
snap the evening into shape (though his solo rendition of "Strange Design"
was charming).

But, in the end, it was a good night. It was a fine excuse to get out of the
house (or wherever one's been locked up lately to beat the cold) and dance
(to stay warm) and drink (the more you drink, the better they sound, as I
discovered), hang out with people (any Phish-related gigs tends to urge
people outta the woodwork, so there's always good company), and be merry
(hey, it beats workin'). And that's nice, right?