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
(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
(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
(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
(Originally published on Grateful Music)
Russell’s Round Room
“There’s something happening here. What it is ain’t exactly clear.” In our jam band bubble, we are lucky enough to take in stupendous music year after year, yet some periods are more special than others, and 2015 is one for the record books. Enchantment is abundant in our world, and for the surviving members of the Grateful Dead not much has been run of the mill in respect to the various celebrations for their 50th anniversary. Since we aren’t talking about any band here, there’s no such thing as status quo when it comes to a Dead type tour, but for the first time in the post-Jerry years, the community that surrounds the surviving members of the group seems to be more vibrant than in any of the days since August 9, 1995.
While we’ve all been lucky enough to experience countless amazing musical and community moments since the passing of the unofficial patriarch of the Deadhead Diaspora, I can’t think of many instances that top what has already occurred during our current trip around the sun. Yes, there have been some top-notch tours with the Core Four, together and apart, but I’d be hard pressed to find a collection of post-Jerry shows that reached the collective heights of Fare Thee Well. And while the melodic merits of Santa Clara and Chicago will continue to be argued by every card-carrying deadhead, not one of us can deny the communal clarity that those final Dead shows brought to fruition. While I only imbibed via the movie screen, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that those concerts were the closest representations of bona fide Grateful Dead experiences to have taken place since the untimely passing of Jerry. Whether via the interweb or in person, everyone that has survived the highs and lows of the past two decades were there, basking in all the glory embodied in the phrase, “There’s nothing like a Grateful Dead concert.”
Now three of the core four have tapped into the notion that something special is transpiring in our promised land and formed Dead & Company. While I can’t blame Phil for not joining in, as I don’t have many details, other than speculation and hearsay from a handful of folks supposedly in the know, I do wish he were taking part. However there will still be plenty of chances to get our Phil fix through shows at the Capitol Theater in Portchester, NY, his rambles at Terrapin Crossroads, and the expected Core Four appearance, amongst other combos at Lockn’ Festival. Phil is celebrating GD50 in his own way, and I wish him all the best in everything he does. But while Phil does his personal thing, I am truly stoked for Dead & Company and all its possibilities.
As I have subjectively high expectations for the shows about to go down, intellectually I know that this incarnation has every ability to fall flat on its face. Weir, Hart, and Kreutzmann are taking an incredible risk introducing a complete outsider into our scene, and the backlash from some fans has been palpable. But Mayer is a commensurate guitarist and performer, and all evidence suggests that he is holed up somewhere right now studying his ass off for tour. While the potential to bomb is prevalent, this ensemble also presents us with the possibility of musical majesty and reinvention that has not been heard on such a large-scale in decades. And for those that think Mayer doesn’t have the chops to pull this off, rumor has it that he will have some help on the way from a smattering of different guitarists at various tour stops. With great possibility comes great risk, and I’m certain the boys are keenly aware of this and will do everything in their power to ensure success in autumn.
And thus far ascendancy has been the name of the game in respect to marketing this shindig. Not since the mid-nineties has a Dead oriented tour found so much response in respect to ticket sales. While famous venues such as MSG generally tend to sell out without much effort on any given tour, demand has varied even in the recent past. Tickets could be found lining chain link fences, or left on the lot as trash at show time for the Dead reunion at Penn State University in October of 2008. Dead Tour 2009, which is the most recent comparable arena sized tour, largely did not sell out. While this tour will more than likely have some dates added still, word on the wire is that every show pass will be claimed nationwide. For three dudes considered passed their prime, and a man that was until recently largely loathed by the majority of Deadheads, this feat is immensely impressive.
And while the expected sell out has been nursed along by a few annoying, but germane marketing practices, sales ploys can not be all that’s behind this triumph. Although the mere idea of the fiftieth anniversary being the last hurrah has drummed up a certain sense of nostalgia for older deadheads who got off the bus a while ago, and mustered the possibility of seeing the magic happen live and in person for younger deadheads that never got to go out on real Dead tour, the overwhelming energy currently felt within our community can not solely be driven by these factors alone. There is certainly something happening here, yet what it is truly cannot be defined. Luckily for us it can be wholeheartedly embraced! The various spinoffs of our favorite band are more popular than they have been in a long time, and the surviving members have been successfully tapping into this energy.
So whatever reservations you may have about this tour: the cast of characters, the exorbitant prices, the runaround getting tickets, the redundant notion that this all is a money grab, and John Mayer being at the forefront of it all, I implore you to catch a show or two, or ten. This could be the last circus of its size, or not. But it will most certainly be the last group of shindigs for 2015, and if I could tell you one thing about this year, it has been full of symphonious sorcery with more to likely come. There’s been another band at the helm of our scene having its best year in a generation; you guys may have heard of them. For those piscatorial fellas and what’s left of the Dead, something mystical is in the air. Take it all in before it passes you by.
Words: Russell S. Glowatz
Russell’s Round Room
by Russell S. Glowatz
Phish ain’t lyrically Dead, so stop fucking comparing them on that level! Pretty pretty please?! I imagine you won’t, but I’m asking anyway because your comparisons are nonsense. So stop. Or don’t. But either way, don’t like Phish lyrics? Fine. They’re not for everybody. There’s nothing wrong with that. Your ticker tape parade will be thrown on the Avenue of Heroes in NYC at the end of Phish tour. But to compare the two bands lyrically is not only foolish…it’s obtuse. End rant. As Ringo would say, I say all this with peace and love, a sincere desire to evoke empathy within the jam band community at large, and the notion, likely some of you realize, that while these bands share many things, lyrics are not one of them, nor were they ever intended to be.
Even putting aside the various collaborations that have occurred between members of Phish and the Grateful Dead in the post-Jerry years, these two bands are linked at the hip, and will inexorably remain that way until their songs and respective followings are snuffed out of existence (if that ever happens). This linkage largely exists due to the two bands’ proclivity towards improvisation in their performances, synchronicity on stage between band and audience members, varied and unique set lists, similar business practices, and an overlapping devoted fan base. However musically and lyrically, these two bands could not be any different. While both were heavily influenced by the American musical landscape, and the musicians that came before them, they also both came of age at completely different times, and this generational gap is reflected in the different style of music they put out.
While one bands verse may seem more profound than the other, I truly contend we should not be comparing these two bands on the lyrical level anymore, because it inevitably leads to hating. When it comes to lyrics and making comparisons, it’s like trying to compare the taste and texture of an apple to a pineapple. They are both fruits and have the word ‘apple’ in their respective names, but besides those similarities, their flavor and feel could not be further from each other. Yet both apples and pineapples are wonderful and delicious in their own right, but in spite of that I don’t see folks equating them very often. So as we don’t compare pineapples and apples, lets aim to do the same with Phish and the Dead on a lyrical level.
Putting the musicianship aside, which most would agree is stellar coming from both bands, even if you don’t personally jive with both bands, lets focus on the words. For many years I have been trying to explain the lyrics of Phish to friends and strangers alike that just don’t get it. They’ll complement the musicianship of the band, but then explain away their inability to get into them as due to Phish’s “idiotic” locution. Invariably the topic will always digress into a conversation about how compared to the prophetic nature of Grateful Dead lyrics, Phish lyrics are generally gibberish and of a juvenile nature. One friend even used to slap a bunch of random rubbish together, and sing in a Phish like way, gyrating as if to imitate one of the band members, ultimately showing me that this is what Phish sounds like to him. While I never got through to that friend, and we are no longer friends at that (for completely unrelated reasons), and it’s okay that he doesn’t get Phish because it’s not for everyone, but wherever he is, I hope he stopped contrasting the damn lyrics to those of the Grateful Dead, and ceased upon hating on folks for their musical predilections. The lyrics are not meant to evoke the same things, and are written in completely different context as the different bands and lyricists relate to society as a whole on a different level.
For those who have trouble relating, it is imperative to look at Phish lyrics differently than you do to those of the Dead. Hunter/Barlow lyrics are exceptionally prescient, in a non-dogmatic way. They are meant to be that way, and have remained true to form throughout the years. Phish lyrics, often written by the likes of Tom Marshall and Steve Pollak (The Dude of Life), are for the most part not supposed to be viewed as prophetic, however a few insightful gems exist amongst their massive catalog. While commensurate storytellers, the Phish lyricists seem to base their compositions in a fantasy world…a world where nursery rhymes are written for adults. Perhaps influenced by the song Prince Caspian, I often compare Phish lyrics to a Narnia Chronicles for grownups.
And on top of the whimsical fairytale like atmosphere many Phish lyrics convey, some of them are just plain silly, but that’s not a reason for scorn. They are supposed to be silly, silly. Whether it’s an inside joke between the band members, or the phan community as a whole, these comedic lyrics create an atmosphere unlike anything ever achieved at a Dead show. They convey comedy and commentary much like several of Frank Zappa’s lyrical odysseys. While Phish lyrics may not be as politically influenced as Zappa’s, the resulting madness is similar. A community of phans not only meeting their spiritual needs through transcendent jams, but achieving their therapeutic needs through sheer comedy as well.
While I write this piece in jest in part, specifically some of my words in the introduction, my sentiment remains true to heart. I have a deep connection to both of these bands. Their music and verse has seen me through some of the hardest times of my life, as well as the most marvelous moments of my existence. I do my best to see each of them for what they are, and while I can be as critical as the next person, as much of the respective fan bases tend to be, I try to keep the criticism in the constructive sense. Recently I saw a deadhead in a Facebook group say that those that appreciate Phish are a seriously troubled group of people. I responded with the tidbit that oddly enough, the vast majority of society feels the same way about Deadheads…they look at YOU as troubled. So in essence, it’s easy to cast aspersions when ignorant towards something that seems weird to you. It’s a lot harder to take the time to understand and empathize, even if it ultimately isn’t your cup of tea.
Over the past seven months plus, I’ve seen a lot of vitriol thrown towards Phish’s way due to the news of Trey Anastasio’s inclusion in Fare Thee Well: Celebrating 50 Years of Grateful Dead. While this hate has more or less always existed, much like the recent upswing in racial tensions in our nation, the inclusion of Anastasio in the final Dead performances has brought all this animosity to a boil. While the inauguration of our first African American president may have in part stoked the racial tension in the nation at large, and this analogy only serves to highlight my point in the most superficial of ways, we as a community, a community a jam band devotees, are supposed to be better than the rest of society.
And if we are not better, we should aim to be better, because betterment is the core of human existence, and I can not think of a much better place than a Phish or a Dead-oriented show, where humanity is better represented in all its possibilities. And taking those show vibes to the next level, as a community, and as individuals in this community, instead of hating, we should aim towards love, and empathy. Empathy is key here. If one can’t grasp someone’s love for Phish and their lyrics, at face value, instead of publicly hating on them, perhaps one should try to put themselves in that phan’s shoes. And while this may be common sense for some, on the surface it seems that it’s a long lost notion for others. Without empathy we are a farce. “It’s completely insane, it’s a revolving cast, but it’s the same old game,” “without love, day to day, insanity is king.”
© Watts Glow Grateful Productions, 2015
stand for jam 