We Have Officially Moved to StandForJam.com

  
While this page will stay live for a while (for anyone who happens to stumble upon it), find all these articles and NEW ones on STANDFORJAM.com!

Our move to this new domain is only the beginning. The new page is currently under construction, so expect to see an evolution taking place. 

Stand For Jam is a grassroots enterprise with the central aim to provide opinion and commentary on all things that JAM. On top of editorials, there will be show reviews, interviews, photo galleries, and whatever else we can muster up that will be of interest to the Jam Band Community at large. 

Our name has a threefold meaning:

Stand For Jam is a jam-oriented newsstand for all things that jam. 

-We not only figuratively stand for all jam band related things, but…

-When jam is playing, we stand up!

***Join us (on the WebsiteFacebookTwitter & Instagram) as we take this ride together into the bountiful future of our scene!

Jam Sanders: United We Stand

2016: It’s Our Time To Make A Difference

Throughout the past year, a rejuvenated entity has taken the jam band scene and many of its devoted followers by storm. I am not discussing the recent Dead reunion, Dead & Company tour, or even Phish’s best year in a generation. What I’m talking about is a gray-haired, balding, four-eyed, seventy something year old man speaking his truth to the masses. A man who has declared his intention to run for the White House in 2016. A man who was largely unknown to mainstream America a short few months ago. By now you must realize I’m referring to the straight shooting Bernie Sanders from Vermont, by the way of Brooklyn. For an old dude, Sanders has pumped new lifeblood into the Democratic Party and the American political system at large. And he has undeniably struck a chord with countless jam band fans and musicians alike, and while not every phan is on board, Sanders is squarely the jam band scene’s candidate of choice for the presidency in 2016.

Back in May, for his official campaign announcement, Sanders was accompanied by the unofficial ice cream makers of our scene, and a band fittingly called Mango Jam. It’s apt Bernie chose a homegrown, local, jam band to help kick off his presidential run, as he is a homespun grassroots entity himself. Likely it’s his democratic socialist ideals that appeal to our community in a large sense. We wax communal ourselves, and often root for the underdog in music and elsewhere, so the more I ponder it, Bernie is the perfect choice for jam band devotees. He appeals to our tacit instincts embodied within our gatherings to help those in need. Our penchant for karma aligns positively with the idea that our society should not be oligarchic in nature, and Senator Sanders seems to be the only viable candidate hitting the nail on the head in respect to this broad notion. Whatever it is that Bernie is tapping into, our populace generally feels it’s the real deal. 

And we are not the only ones. Sanders has highlighted a course for this nation that many of the disenchanted and disenfranchised feel we should take. And while some may sense that this guy doesn’t have a holy chance in hell, I can recall an African-American senator with a funny name garnering similar recognition at this very point in the 2008 election cycle. So take notice, and remember Hunter S. Thompson poignantly saying that “if every Deadhead in Florida had voted [in 2000] the world would be a different place.” There’s contemporary truth to that quote, and we as a massive population of jam band enthusiasts have power in numbers. If every one of us jam Sanders supporters voted in the upcoming primaries and subsequent election, the world can be a different place. It’s up to us to get involved.  

And jam band junkies across the nation are heeding that call. From a Phans of Bernie Sanders table being set up at the Phish Dick’s campgrounds over the summer, to totems and larger than life Sanders cut outs raising awareness at festivals and shows across the nation, Bernie fever has fallen upon our community, and at no other time have I seen our members be so overtly politically active. Some will fret that politics should not be inserted into our special scene, but since our unique universe brings so many of us together on similar wave lengths it’d be a terrible shame if we don’t use it to potentially change the course of human history. Stakes are high, and we can make a major difference. Remember that. And if you’re not political, but care about our collective future, take a few moments to discover what Sanders and the other candidates are about. If you jive with what he has to say, register to vote at your next show with a Head Count booth. It doesn’t take too much to make an informed vote, and your impact could change the future of the world. Pretty heady stuff. From Jon Fishman to Horizon Wireless, artists are for the first time using their good names to endorse a presidential candidate. While that shouldn’t paint your point of view, such endorsements should encourage a closer look.Our future is on the line, and there are some colossal issues we’ll be facing in the upcoming decades that could forever alter or even extinguish reality as we know it. Our way of life is extremely precious, fragile, and very much a privilege. If you are politically apathetic, I don’t say any of this to piss you off, although I’m surely bound to aggravate some by broaching such a topic. And while far from all of us are on board the Bernie train, many are, and if these words contribute in a small way towards mobilizing our community it’ll absolutely be worthwhile, and I’ll happily take flak from those who send it my way. So if you’re feeling a sensation in your nether regions, a buzz in your heart or mind, a Bern if you will, head to the polls in the upcoming year and make a difference for all of us.

Words: Russell S. Glowatz

© Stand For Jam, 2015

Review: Phunksgiving – An Evening With Dumpstaphunk, Fishbone, & Dust Rays – 11/25/2015

 

On Thanksgiving Eve a merry bunch of music lovers descended upon Portchester, New York with full intent to loosen up, get down, and kick off the holiday season in style. Peter Shapiro’s recently revamped Capitol Theatre provided the perfect conduit for such endeavors as there is no better way to escape from the monotony of the day to day than with live music. It was Live For Live Music that booked the three fantastic acts that comprised the second annual Phunksgiving. And it was the Dust Rays, Fishbone, and Dumpstaphunk that imparted the evenings soundtrack, administering the funk with ease and energy to all those in attendance…..

Continue Reading and check out photo gallery on Grateful Music!

Words: Russell S. Glowatz

Photos: Chason Heins

Do Not Miss ‘Jazz Is Phish’

 They say imitation is the greatest form of flattery, yet innovation is superior, and innovation upon the revered discography of Phish is essentially flattery on steroids. Jazz is Phish, a brand new ensemble with the sole mission of interpreting the songs of Phish in an inventive and uniquely jazzy format, lays it on thick as it takes the preeminent jam band’s discography outside the stratosphere with soulful melody and funky beats…

Continue reading on Grateful Music

Healing with Music: In the Wake of Paris

(Originally published on Grateful Music)

Russell’s Round Room  

Music guides us, binds us, takes us through our darkest hours, and accompanies us through our greatest triumphs. It’s our therapy through tragedy, and our soundtrack through serenity. And on Friday evening, as music lovers perished, it was brutally besieged. In this age when terror attacks have become a daily possibility, and many of us have numbed ourselves to the specter of these catastrophes hitting home, a concert venue being the target of such hate chills us to the bone. Our sanctuary, our abode on the road, where we often find our truer selves, where we transcend the monotony of daily existence, has been breached by the blood and fury of those with the express mission to spread dread. Yet while music was viciously violated this night, it will be the very thing that heals us in the end.

No doubt upon hearing of this attack, many of us briefly envisioned what it would be like in such a scenario, as it isn’t a stretch to put ourselves in the shoes of the Eagles of Death Metal fans, crew, and band members at their Friday night concert at the Bataclan. Fear is natural, and is the direct goal of a terror event, driven home as this particular strike hit six different public spheres throughout Paris. We may feel unease upon our first entrance into a music venue after this attack, but France will recover from this tragedy, as our distress will pass. In marching through our fear, the music will heal our misgivings on the other side. As we trust in the melody to get us through, our resolve as a collective will help us move on.

Music is my therapy, and in a live setting it’s superbly intensive. Whatever social anxiety, shyness, or melancholia I sometimes experience on the outside is quickly shed afar at a live music gathering. When I get confused and listen to the music play, my ills often melt away. Now today as some of us are likely agonizing over a sense of innocence that’s been lost for our greatest escape, we try to make sense of the nonsensical. As live music has been the soundtrack that has kept our lives in motion all these years, this attack appears as a personal affront to our very way of being. Many of us happen to be the best versions of ourselves when taking in music firsthand with our loved ones. And as we contemplate and process these events, our transcendent selves will reign supreme, as we preserve our therapeutic outlet, and that outlet maintains us.

While everyone processes tragedy differently, we should aim to let the music heal, as it has always done. Let us walk through the despair together at our next live music event. Let us use this tragedy as a reminder of the privilege we sometimes take for granted, the honor to see our favorite musicians year after year in safety. Let’s look out for each other on our musical journeys, and while we’ve always done this, let’s pay extra special attention to those around us, and lend helping hands when we can. We never know when danger is around the corner, so lets be cautious, but as it’s sometimes unavoidable, let’s live it up in the moment, traversing our trepidation, one show at a time, with each other.

Let’s project those good vibes when we can, because in the end positive energy will outweigh the negative, if we let it. And through the music positivity reigns freely. Never will terrorists’ hell bent on disturbing our way of life take away our hymns and harmonies. As long as humans roam the earth, there will be live tunes to absorb. It could be the cockroaches and a couple of us, and we’ll figure a way to make music. Music is inbred in our souls. We take as much a part in creating it as it does in shaping our lives and our surroundings. No one can take that away from us. Ever. Music is our binding force, music is our home. As Mickey Hart poignantly said in response to these attacks, “music is the best healing agent we know.” Music is our lifeblood, one of our quintessential reasons for being, and it can never be silenced.

Words: Russell S. Glowatz

Keepers of the Flame: Review – Melvin Seals & JGB, Brooklyn Bowl, 10/23/2015

  Walking into Brooklyn Bowl on Friday night, one was struck with a mellow mood. Tip-top tunes from the opening act filled the intimate venue, and the multitudes milled about imbibing in choice brews, gobbling up good food, and mingling with positive people. The New York based Turbine is an exceptional jam band, and those that showed up early received a surprise treat as they laid down lick after lick loosening up the crowd for the night to come. As the main event approached, fresh folks filed into Peter Shapiro’s flagship venue. Part bowling alley, part concert hall with a bar and grill, Brooklyn Bowl has the makings of an adult playground, perfectly conducive to communal carousing. As the venue never reached critical capacity this night, there was copious dancing space for the crowd to let loose, and once the melodies started flowing, the audience took every opportunity to spread their wings and fly.

Opening the night with a high energy…

Read more and see more photos at Grateful Music!

Words: Russell S. Glowatz 

Photos: Lori Bockelken

Review: Trey Anastasio Band, Kings Theatre, 10/17/15

 (Originally published on Grateful Music) Anticipation was high heading into Kings Theatre on Saturday. The previous evening saw the Trey Anastasio Band lay it all out on the table, and expectations reached a crescendo leaving many fans wondering how Trey and his merry band of misfits could possibly top the energy of the prior night’s show. Well the Saturday night audience needn’t have feared, as TAB continued to hit on all cylinders, pumping through groove after groove with such ferocious intensity, we had to scoop our jaws off the floor at the end of the night. Kings Theatre provided the perfect landscape for this epic throw down, as the former movie palace was recently reopened, and refurbished to its pristine twenties era majesty. Originally a film house that doubled as a vaudeville theater, its name is fitting as we all felt like royalty walking through its hallowed lobby and cavernous concert hall. And it’s apt that the tour opened at the Kings, as like Trey, this theatre once shined brightly, suffered through some dark days of deterioration, only to be restored to all its glory in the modern age. As countless audience members found themselves zoning out on the bold and intricate ceiling design throughout the festivities, Kings Theatre itself was the opening act to TAB’s epic headlining performance.

Commencing the night with Sometimes After Sunset, the evenings only draw upon the forthcoming Paper Wheels, the band was off to a roaring start. Song name and lyrics germane, as sometimes after sunset we go see shows that often “reveals to me the inner me,” as live music has the inexplicable ability to break down our inhibitions and see our better selves. With Cayman Review up next we delved hotly into TAB’s classic repertoire, where we’d largely stay the rest of the night. A mid-set Night Speaks to a Woman, off the same 2002 self-titled album, allowed for some extended jamming that showcased some tight interplay between Anastasio and keyboardist Ray Paczkowski. Next up a Trey Band debut of George Harrison’s What is Life sent the crowd soaring into nostalgic bliss. While the band kept true to original form on this tune, its good-natured feeling kept the dopamine pumping hard through our brains. A zesty Tuesday put the first set in the books, and we found ourselves amped up wandering through the angelic theater once again.

Second set took off with a horn heavy Curlew’s Call, as the band continued through their retrospective on Trey’s solo work. Into an epic Plasma the crowd was deeply entrenched in the goings-on. As everyone was amply loose, and swinging, Kings Theatre seemed to transform into another time, a forgotten place, reminiscent of the roaring twenties with contemporary tunes. One could easily transform themselves into the theatre of yesteryear, with its smoke-filled vaudevillian madness. As the set seemed to fly by at a moments notice dancing to the band’s stellar jams, all of a sudden a bust out of Dazed and Confused tapped into our collective psyche like a shot of B-12. Jennifer Hartswick took lead, and her exceptionally powerful vocals easily carved out her place as the night’s MVP. The band took a bow with a vigorous Push On ‘Til the Day, capped off with Trey frenetically dancing like a madmen on a musical mission, spreading the message of the Helping Friendly Book like he only knows how.

In his preeminent side project, an impeccable ensemble of musicians accompanies Trey, and each accentuates the grand vision put forth on stage. With several years behind them, and only a handful of lineup changes, this band truly gels as one, with Big Red as the shining centerpiece. Including a horn section that would fit right in at a New Orleans second line, to a New York jazz club, or an all out funk infused bonanza, Trey Band offers a unique sound that diverts wholly from Phish, and significantly from the jam sphere at large. In a discussion with a complete newb to the scene that experienced the show, he remarked perfectly that while the music was playing he felt contemplative about his life; not in the normal anxious way one often goes about such things, but in a meditative, positive light, and while the band carried on, he felt an overwhelming sense that everything will be okay. In a nutshell, Trey and his cohorts brought us much joy on Saturday night, evidenced by all of our melted faces as we exited the venue.

Against all odds, trials and tribulations, we are experiencing what could easily be dubbed “The Year of Trey.” Through practice and patience in the lead up to Fare Thee Well, Trey not only applied his newly electrified approach to playing in those five magical shows, he took his panache with him through the most legendary Phish tour in a generation, and now on the road with Trey Anastasio Band. Even from afar, one can see that Anastasio’s spirit is simply infectious, and as he continues to soar through the stratosphere on this fall TAB tour, it’s apparent that whatever he’s got is contagious. When he is humming, so do those around him. So as TAB continues this journey with Halloween weekend stops at Brooklyn Bowl Las Vegas, get on board for a priceless experience before the Trey train passes you by.

Words: Russell S. Glowatz

You Ain’t Gonna Learn What You Don’t Want To Know (The Dark Side of the Dead’s Illuminated 50th Year)

(Originally published on Grateful Music)

 
Russell’s Round Room 

Deadheads have always been a critical bunch. For decades we’ve waded and waffled over albums, tapes, set lists, soundboards, and so on, with monotonous detail. We’ve attended shows with aim to transcend the boundaries and limits of day-to-day life, yet when something wasn’t quite up to snuff, we’d be the first to appraise, and offer up notions on how it could’ve been better. Since Jerry checked out we’ve been hypercritical about every show, often unfairly holding them up to concerts from the best days of the Dead. And while sometimes we can frankly be oversensitive imbeciles, it’s this very way that we showcase our dedicated nature that makes us the very best fan base in the world. We don’t mince words. We will tell you if you suck. Likely you don’t blow or we wouldn’t attend your shows, but when you have one of those days, tours, or even one of those sets or songs where you couldn’t tap into the collective synchronicity, you’re going to get an earful. As a musician I can’t imagine a more terrifyingly wonderful prospect, because you will get the credit when it’s due. Genuine is a word that wholeheartedly defines deadheads.

And this year, tons of gratitude has poured from our ranks towards the Core Four, their counterparts and the various 50th anniversary incarnations, yet there has been an incredible level of hogwash as well. And I’m not talking about constructive criticism regarding a show that already went down; rather referring to deadheads a plenty taking their preconceived notions about a certain artist or ensemble and prejudging events that have yet to take place. While it’s far from the bunch, and may be a minority (there’s no way to really know), a group of heads has made an indelible mark in various corners of the interweb with premature expressions of doubt. First with Trey, the hysteria was palpable, and people that practically based part of their very being on hating Phish, were met with a musical identity crisis of massive proportions. Folks flipped their shit, and that vibe wafted throughout our scene, and touched everyone, including Big Red himself. But now that Fare Thee Well has come and gone, the Anastasio bashing has nearly ceased, as most realize they don’t have two legs to stand upon when attacking his abilities. So at this juncture as Trey stands on his merits, some have certainly learned their lesson about prejudgment. Still I can’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu with the yet to be road tested Dead & Company and their lead guitarist. John Mayer’s inclusion in Dead and Company has left him as the new public enemy number one. After the unjustified Trey hate barrage, I thought many more would take the high road at this juncture, but my optimism outshined reality, as the trolls and drama queens are at it again. And a message to them: your intransigent non-constructive criticism serves no purpose whatsoever, other than to justify your years held prejudices. Disliking Mayer’s mainstream music should not be basis for condemning the Dead and Company venture. Even Mayer himself believes his pop tunes are garbage, merely a means to pay the bills while pursuing his true passions on the side. Moreover a heaping handful of evidence suggests that Mayer can in fact play guitar, and play it quite well. So instead of condemning the man out of the gate, how about giving him a chance to demonstrate his proficiency without any prepossessed notions. Simply, it’s called open-mindedness, and I thought we were a pretty receptive bunch.

As Mayer has received his fair share of hate from the general public over the years, and has likely grown a thick skin, it’s not his feelings I’m concerned about. It’s our community, and what we tacitly stand for that should be upheld. Many are stoked for these shows. We hear your hate on a daily basis. While you may be ultimately right, and Dead & Company bombs due to the incorporation of Mayer into the collective, you’ll be vindicated based on your prediction, but you won’t be upon your behavior. The name-calling and ad hominem attacks are unbecoming, unnecessary, and your prematurely negative vibes are harshing our widespread mood. So for the betterment of our community, mellow out, open your brain, ears, and heart to the possibility that something good might be brewing. And if you can’t do that, and your irrational hate is so deep-seated, then stuff it for the duration and let us have our good time without the ongoing pessimistic commentary from the peanut gallery.  Ultimately your vibe won’t ruin our experience in the least, but it does take its toll, and perhaps in recognition of that, you’ll take it down a notch.

Whether this tour will be the greatest thing since Fare Thee Well, present itself as a mediocre happening, or crash as an abysmal failure, we don’t know. Those touting the merits of Mayer, or attacking him on insignificant levels, simply have no inkling. So in the vista of uncertainty, why not wax positive. Positivity and transcendent music are the main features of our community that brought us here in the first place. And without the former, the latter often doesn’t come to fruition. Life is a whole lot easier looking upwards and onwards, rather than downwards with a constant eye towards past dwellings. If these shows are second-rate, then take all the time you need to constructively criticize after the fact. I may very well join you. But if the hate parade continues towards Dead & Company’s opening dates, I have to ask: what kind of people are we? We can be the people that live by the creeds commonly suggested in Grateful Dead lyrics, or we can throw everything we’ve learned on this trip to the wind, and devolve into our lesser selves. The choice is yours. “Ain’t no time to hate,” even if it’s John Mayer.

Words: Russell S. Glowatz

Logo: Jeffrey Peltzman

Review: Phil Lesh and Friends, Central Park SummerStage, 9/16/2015

(Originally published on Grateful Music)

 
No venue in Manhattan is quite like Central Park SummerStage at Rumsey Playfield. Centered in the bucolic and historic park, the surroundings themselves are worth the venture alone, yet when a surviving member of the Grateful Dead is playing, the scenery serves merely as a gateway to the main event. With a capacity of roughly 5000 people, SummerStage was packed to the rafters on Wednesday night, yet due to its relatively small size the venue provides an intimate environment, often not seen at many outdoor concert grounds. So strolling through the park prior to the show, I found myself drawn to the nearby rocks where folks regularly congregate before events. Meeting old friends and new, the aura outside was terrific, mellow, and anticipatory for the night to come.

And expectations were wholeheartedly met as Phil Lesh and his current company took the stage and Tony Leone belted out the familiar drumbeat signaling the Samson and Delilah at hand. If folks took this as evidence of a show heading in the direction of late seventies up-tempo Dead, they, as I, were markedly mistaken, as the band forayed into the longtime Jerry staple, Catfish John. The soulful tune allowed ample time for guitarists Eric Krasno, and Neal Casal to open up and cut deep. The interplay between the two lead axemen remained to be a strong point all night long, accentuated by the versatile keysmanship of the latest Black Crowes keyboardist, Adam MacDougall.

As the music moved forward, it was evident that we were in for a blues heavy show with back to back Pig Pen tunes, Hard to Handle, and Easy Wind. As MacDougall, Casal, and Leone are all Chris Robinson collaborators of past and present, a bluesy element emblematic of the Crowes emanated through the players, and created a unique sound relative to past Phil & Friends incarnations. Robinson delved into his roll as lead vocalist with ease and swagger, and at times seemed to be channeling the late great Ron McKernan, not only with voice, but also through a gritty harmonica solo in the midst of Easy Wind. As set one came to a close with Big River, the band presented us with a fresh take, and I found myself reaching a transcendent state for the first time in the evening.

The fact that Phil’s still bringing us full length shows of stellar live music well into his seventies is a blessing and a miracle. For that, I can’t blame him in the least for the extended set breaks that have become commonplace at his shows. I know many folks his age that are long in bed and asleep while he’s raging onward night after night. So while the lengthy intermission allowed Phil and company to reenergize, it gave us heads ample time for bathroom breaks, beer runs, and mingling with our friends and family. As the sun went down on the Park, and the lights brightened on the stage, we all dug in for what was to be a smoking second set.

The He’s Gone opener was met with rip-roaring enthusiasm from the audience, as the song has taken up special meaning since the passing of Jerry Garcia. At this juncture it occurred to me we haven’t heard much from Phil in respect to fronting vocals. While many deadheads have taken umbrage with him appropriating a lead on certain songs, there are a few he has adopted and truly made his own in the post-Jerry years. And as clear as the summer’s sky, his voice shined through in singing Saint Stephen and Franklin’s Tower. With the night winding down, the double encore opened with the recognizable riff of Mr. Charlie, a fitting choice with Robinson’s ability to conjure the essence of Pig Pen. Each band member took a musical bow with respective solos, and in capping it all off, the ensemble left us with a sentimental U.S. Blues that evoked nostalgia of the epic summertime “come and gone.”

All in all this was a well-executed show, with a handful of highs, and some middle of the road moments. For many of the Northeast deadheads in attendance, this was their first opportunity to see Phil live and in the flesh in this fiftieth year of Grateful Dead (or at least since before Fare Thee Well), and that vibe waved wide and high as we danced and sang the night away to our favorite tunes. As a New Yorker, I consider myself to be among the fortunate since Lesh retired from touring, as I’m still able to get my Phil fix fairly frequently. As he rides off into his twilight years, I imagine Phil will venture less commonly from his home at Terrapin Crossroads. So with a run of shows coming up at the Capitol Theater in Portchester, NY at the end of October, I’d encourage all who can make it to catch Phil and his friends as they round out this epic year in Grateful Dead history.

Words: Russell S. Glowatz

Crosseyed & Painless: Phish 3.1

(Originally published on Grateful Music

 Russell’s Round Room

“One good thing about [Phish], when it hits you feel no pain.” And we’ve all been crosseyed and painless this summer as our favorite band was hitting it nightly. Spectator to unarguably the greatest tour of 3.0, and likely the best run of shows since the 1990’s, I couldn’t be more elated for our community as a whole, especially us youngins in the bunch. No more can that handful of apathetic old heads trample on our good time with the tired old adage that “it just ain’t the same.” While Phish 2015 is far from the band with the same moniker from two decades ago, they are finally reaching the same summits again, and old and new, contemporary fans have laid witness to all their glory. And to understand how I personally feel about this latest peak from our favorite ensemble, lets head back for a moment to the lowliest point in Phishtory.

If Phish was Poster Nutbag, I jumped on the phan bandwagon right before he kicked the bucket. My journey to Phish was a tedious one that began in the summer of 2004 with a decision made by my group of teenage friends to head up to Coventry, Vermont for what was then to be their last music festival. At the time I only had dabbled in some of the band’s more well known tunes, and my only notion of what a Phish festival or show was like came from watching Bittersweet Motel. While the rest of the seasoned Phish community was already mourning the loss of their favorite spiritual/therapeutic/musical outlet, my friends and I set out upon an epic, but arduous journey that marked the very beginning of my true insertion into this wonderful jam band community.

While I now understand how weird, pensive, and not so serene the vibe was at Coventry, at the time I thought I was at a run of the mill Phish festival. I was in heaven. Ankle deep muddy heaven. I even thought the mud was a normal occurrence. It rained! Of course there’s gonna be mud so deep one can’t even take care of his shoes. I was a newb. And as I walked into the venue barefoot, hundreds of phans busted through a fence from their several mile trek to the fest. I met a head that had his chest ripped open after he scaled a waterfall and failed while hiking into the campgrounds. He still got to the show. I knew this wasn’t quite the status quo at the time, but what struck me was the dedication of these phans, making it to their last hurrah hell or high water. When the music started, that dedication was unfounded, as Trey rambled on, and the rest of the band attempted to carry his addled self. And while the weekend was a musical and logistical bust, I did pick up something from Coventry. A need to understand where this fanatical nature came from. So over the course of the next few years, I delved deep into the Phish catalogue, caught the boys solo when I could. One particular Trey Anastasio & 70 Volt Parade show at Jones Beach, on the 60th anniversary of the Hiroshima bombing felt like a personal apology for the atomic blast that was Coventry. After that show, fishing further, finding all those gems in the band’s catalogue that veterans so energetically talked about, I held out hope for a Phish reunion. Then my and thousands of others’ prayers were answered with the Mothership shows in March of 2009. While that run left much for wanting, our band was back together, and I was experiencing present day good and genuine Phish performances for the first time in my existence. With both the Dead and Phish setting out for their first full-length tours in five years, 2009 made for a largely legendary year of music.

Fast forward to 2015. Phish has been out on the road again for seven years running. While during the last lucky seven heavy rotations around the sun we’ve witnessed many highs, a few lows, and a lot of middle of the road shows, we are buzzing off a tour that exceeded all of our wildest dreams. Even us relative newbies’ never expected harmonious heights synonymous with the mid-nineties. We never envisaged musical mastery exceeding all of 2.0 and 3.0 combined, yet here we are. A collection of shows that rivals most groupings in the last two decades. Incredible. Speechless. This is why we keep coming back for more. And to cork it off, Sunday night’s THANK YOU encore at Dick’s placed a juicy cherry atop all that’s transpired this summer.

For the first time in this 3.0’ers life, I feel like I’ve experienced all of what Phish has to offer. Upward and onward! 2015 ain’t over yet. Rumor has it we have an MSG New Years run in our future, followed by 2016 shows that our Mexican Cousins will have a chance to jump on. Then the rumored US winter tour. Born again, rejuvenated, whatever you want to call it…the boys are hitting on all cylinders and magic is in the air. Nothing currently suggests that it won’t continue into the winter and New Year. So save your pennies, recharge on this break, for the future is bright, and time’s got nothing on Phish. Mid-life they may be, but they look like a bunch of giddy teenagers on stage, and their enthusiasm is widely reflected in the music they’re producing. And as the music plays the band, the band plays us. Thank you Trey, Page, Mike, Jon, CK5, and the crew that brought it all back home for each and every one of us on this tour. Until next time, united we stand.

Words: Russell S. Glowatz