What a strange and beautiful day.

The first thing I noticed upon my arrival to the pre-concert destination was the complete lack of condescension or elitist attitude from the veterans. In fact, it was the exact opposite:

We had Jimmy, who was about to go to his 64th or 67th show (somewhere around there…and about to increase by another half dozen within the next two weeks anyway); Kevin, who’s going to hit his 50th later this month; and Alex, who, having been to 20+, was gracious enough to guide me through some of the more digestible idiosyncrasies of the environment and show itself.

The three of them, and every other individual who had been to at least one show, showed a genuine enthusiasm and excitement for the first-timers. Their experience seemed to be enhanced by knowing others would be taking part in a celebration so familiar to them.

It helped being in a huge group (50+) with a diverse range of experience. Different people interacted with the music and each other in different ways.

5 Things That Struck Me:

1) The diversity of the crowd. There were entire families set up on the sides (with members aged 6 to 65, all decked out in gear). You had college kids, post-college kids, and men who work in your office. There were lots of happy-looking folks who I pictured walking around the dock with their floating keychains, and there were some disgruntled lawyers looking for an escape.

2) It felt like there was a divide/invisible screen between the band and the audience. I’ve never felt so little literal interaction between an artist and the crowd, and yet the connection was there.  They seldom spoke, but the music created a separate environment where people could mesh together in an independent (yet interwoven) dance. Speaking of…

3) Everyone must, and does, dance. And it doesn’t matter what you do. You move, and it works. A sigh of relief for Jews everywhere.

4)  It’s obvious, but it seems that more-so than with your traditional jam band, the entire day is to be a shared experience. The seamless transitions blending each song aid in bringing the day together as a whole.  It’s a sense of happiness that isn’t based on memories or reliving an event, but a present state understanding – the fact that there’s no pause (except the actual set break) only helps contribute to this feeling.

5) I was continuously baffled at what Chris Kuroda was able to do with the lighting; the synchronization with the music added an element to the sound that can’t be captured on a recording.  On a similar note, the acoustics sounded as if we were standing in the middle of live studio album recording (I suppose we were).

 

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Now, I’m really not qualified to discuss the music (before the show, I only knew every Phish song that Phish fans don’t listen to), so I’d like to make a few observations, offer my favorite tracks from the show, and leave it at that.

• The Line: It’s my current favorite off of Fuego, and to me sounds like three songs in one.  We move from a jazzy Steely Dan opening into a more rambunctious Squeeze-esque portion, with what pains me to say is a chorus that sounds a bit too much like this.

• Punch You in the Eye: The first song I listened to when I got home, it was my favorite of the lengthier ones they played.  There are parts of this song that I’m certain Dispatch ripped off.

• Carini: Character Zero was one of my favorites when I was younger, and I think the guitar riffs in this one brought me back to that.  This song also featured me screaming, “Don’t leave me on my dopey head,” which was promptly corrected.

• Harry Hood (photo should suffice)

• I also took special notice of Joy, Ghost, AC/DC Bag, The Velvet Underground’s Rock & Roll, and Sparkle

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By the end of the thing I just kept thinking, “Who are these people and where do they go after the show?  They really might just be happy creatures who emerge from the rubble when the lure of The Trey is heard off in the distance.”  The reality is, they probably all ran off to go charter a flight to Chicago for next weekend’s shows.

So, am I changed? Maybe.  Did I enjoy it? Yes.  Is it a truly unique experience? Yes.  Will I do it again? Yes.

To enjoy a concert to this extent without knowing 90% of the songs (and 99% of the traditions and quirks of the jokesters behind the act) is impressive.  I can only imagine the feeling of actually being familiar with everything and still getting that rush of unique pleasure upon hearing an over-familiar track in a way never before imagined.

For now I have my one little digital souvenir on LivePhish, and while it would be an audacious task to even attempt and learn a sizable chunk of their work before my next show, at least I have somewhere to start.  See you at MSG.