In defense of Phish

Q: What did one Phish fan say to the other when they ran out of drugs? A: "Dude, this music sucks!"

Hahahaha ... now that we've gotten that out of the way (and I've heard that joke on more than one occasion) I'd like to tell you about my favorite music in the world. For those who know me even slightly, that music comes from the band Phish. Known by that horrifyingly stereotypical moniker of "jamband," Phish came into being in the mid-1980s, but were unknown to me until the late 90s. That's kind of the way they like it. 

Instead of bursting onto the scene and flaming out just as quickly, Phish spent the better part of 20 years playing music the old fashioned way — live, in front of more and more people each time. They have done this without the benefit of radio airplay or MTV. They don't have a hit single nor do they have charismatic members, unless you call a drummer who wears a dress to every show charismatic. They are four nerds, for lack of a better word. And yet their music has transformed me in a way that none other has outside of The Beatles.

I think the reason that I respond to it so well is that they really love music. What other band out there can realistically pull off traditional rock and roll, a prog-rock composed piece, bluegrass, funk and barbershop quartet, sometimes in the same show? They truly are "students of the game."

Three of the final four members — Trey Anastasio, Mike Gordon and Jon Fishman — joined forces in late 1983 with another original member, Jeff Holdsworth, to play at the University of Vermont ROTC dance. It is believed that Phish performed "I Heard It Through The Grapevine," "Proud Mary" and "Long Cool Woman In A Black Dress" among other bar band favorites. The band stated that their performance was so bad that Michael Jackson's Thriller was popped into the tape deck during their break in order to get everyone to dance. The band didn't perform again in public for another year, when they settled into the haunt that shepherded the early part of their career, Nectar's, a bar and grill in Burlington, Vermont that still stands and serves a mean french fries and gravy.

A few months later, keyboardist Page McConnell joined the group, and a year after that, Holdsworth exited, leaving a foursome that has stood to this day. The group was still unknown to anyone outside of a few Northeastern college towns, and it would take another two years for the group to venture outside of their own state, all the way to ... Rhode Island. 

But that's where the legend takes off. This is a band who ripped a page from the Grateful Dead's playbook: Play here, play there, play everywhere. And that's what they did. About the time that I was cruising the halls of Jonesboro High School in Arkansas listening to Milli Vanilli and Fine Young Cannibals, Phish was building a fan base whose loyalty has yet to be exceeded. They played 108 shows in 1989 alone, while at the same time releasing their first major label album, Junta, and playing their first New Year's Eve show to 1,700  devotees in Boston. In what would become a tradition of NYE merriment, the band provided hors d'oeuvres and champagne to the crowd while Fishman bypassed the traditonal tuxedo garb worn by the other three members and came out on stage in nothing more than a top hat and a g-string.

In the following years, their influence began to spread wider and wider, although always underground of what mainstream music was accomplishing. While they were filling up larger venues in Vermont and neighboring states, Phish would still play to less than 100 people when they ventured south or west. At least that would happen the first time. If they ever returned, they would see those numbers increase exponentially. The now routinely play multiple nights at Madison Square Garden to sold out shows. Their NYE festival in 1999 was in the Florida Everglades in front of 90,000 fans. To paraphrase the late great John Houseman, they were becoming a big-time rock-and-roll band the old-fashioned way — by eeeaahhrrrning it.

Two Phish fans left a show, both of them complaining. "Man, that show was horrible," the first one said. "Trey sang off key, Mike never came in at the right time, and Page forgot all the words." "I completely agree," the second one said. "And it was way too short."

The stuff above is just a history lesson. What I really want to talk about is the music. Phish is formed out of four guys who love music ... all music. They are sponges. While the earliest songs have the basic rock backbeat to them, the writer of most of the songs, Anastasio, was really learning how to create large composed pieces and turn them into prog-rock songs along the lines of early Genesis and Rush. But instead of sounding dark and gloomy, these songs sounded fun. I realize that some of the lyrics deal with walking lizards and dancing pigs. I realize how nerdy it can feel to try and gain meaning from the words, "The tires are the thing on your car that make contact with the road." It ain't Dylan. I mean, there is a song called "Dinner And A Movie" where all they sing is "Let's go out to dinner and see a movie." Their song "David Bowie" has the immortal lyrics ... "David Bowie ... David Bowie ... David Bowie ... " well, you get the idea.

But there are poetic moments. A favorite of many non-Phish fans is "Waste" which I included on my wedding CD.

There are other pearls of wisdom including "Can't this wait 'til I'm old? Can I live while I'm young?" or my favorite, "Whatever you do, take care of your shoes." The immortal line "This has all been wonderful, but now I'm on my way" has been scrawled on more than a few yearbooks. But on the whole, if you're trying to get true poetry, you might as well stick with Paul Simon, John Lennon or Robert Hunter.

Like I said, I am interested in the music. This is a band that has never rested on its laurels. In the mid-90s, they wanted to learn how to play real bluegrass, so they enlisted a tutor and incorporated their progress into their shows. Remember that in attempting this, the bassist played banjo, the drummer played mandolin, the pianist played upright bass and the guitarist played ... well, guitar. But it was different. They wanted to do something new by learning their musical history.

While none of them are really strong singers — there are definitely no Freddie Mercurys or heck, even Steve Perrys in the group — they have learned to sing together, and they have flirted with barbershop music from time to time. Venturing into acapella territory during a rock show is not how you keep the party going, but they cared more about getting better and exploring all types of music.

When you can't pin down one particular type of music, it makes going to these shows so much fun. Every concert is different because they play whatever they want. Without one hit single, they can play a completely different setlist four or five nights in a row. And since they are musical chameleons, they have attracted every type of respected musician to sit in with them. The diverse list includes Allison Krauss, Bela Fleck, Bob Weir and Phil Lesh, Dave Matthews Band, B.B. King, Kid Rock, Neil Young, Paul Schaffer, Carlos Santana, Jimmy Buffett and some of these gems ...

Wynona Judd

Jay-Z

Bruce Springsteen

There are no rules in a Phish concert. They once arranged all their songs so that they could spend an entire tour with a horn section. On one tour, they played chess with the crowd (one move was made by the band and one was made by the crowd during each show). Their Halloween events have included playing entire albums from The Beatles, The Who, The Rolling Stones and Talking Heads. They aren't afraid to tackle other musicians' songs as well, and they have tried their hand at "Gettin' Jiggy With It," "Tubthumping" and "Purple Rain" just to name a few. Their NYE shows can involve anything from marching bands to broadway dancers to a human cannonball. But at the heart are just four guys playing for about three hours (along with a killer improvised light show) and the possibility that you may hear or see something that you never have before. 

Q: How many Phish fans does it take to screw in a lightbulb? A: 100. 1 to screw it in, and 99 to tape it.

Phish is one of the most successful rock acts in history, but it's not traditional means that brought them there. Unlike many artists, who lashed out at unauthorized use of their music in the age of the mp3, Phish encouraged the taping and trading of their live shows, knowing that word of mouth would be a much sweeter brand of success than having one particular song shoved down people's throats. Yes, there have been concessions. One video was made for MTV. One song appeared on an episode of "Dawson's Creek." But by and large, the reason Rolling Stone called Phish the most important band of the 1990s is because they were at the forefront of bringing a fan base together through music trading and the Internet.

Before Napster, Phish fans were emailing each other shows and placing them on Web sites. Of the 1,400 or so concerts that they have played, there are nutjobs out there trying to track down a copy of every one. I was once one of those nutjobs, but I have since decided my time is better spent just listening to the couple hundred that I already have. But even better than listening to them at home is seeing a show live. The experience is unique to say the least. While the outside world may laugh and use much of the fan base for jokes about drugs, the majority of Phish's core base, including myself, is there for the music, and although I have been to some of the greatest live shows by music legends, I never have felt the energy that I do at a Phish show. It is a day-long event. You don't just arrive 30 minutes prior. You get there early and spend all day with your new "friends." Phish is basically the SEC of musical tailgating.

My first show started in the middle of a cornfield. I was introduced to Phish while I camped in the sweltering Indiana heat. I can remember almost every moment of that first show, and although the rest tend to run together, I know that I will experience something magical almost every time. I will make new friends, and I will forget my troubles for a few hours at least. I am going to do it again this year ... in North Carolina. I have seen Phish in San Francisco, Seattle, Saratoga Springs, NY and Columbus, Ohio. I have seen them in the midst of a raging storm and in the middle of flying tortillas and marshmallows. I will continue to see them until they quit. They have tried to quit before, but it never sticks. And despite Trey's horrible grammar in the clip below, he is absolutely right. There is nothing more real on this earth than music. It can get inside you more than any book or movie. It can connect with you in a matter of seconds. And everyone knows what I mean. Your "Phish" may not be Phish. It may be Brooks & Dunn or Justin Beiber or Bon Jovi. But it means something. And you know because you will be able to defend it to anyone.

Now quit reading and go listen to some music.