A Phan Looks at Phifty

It was 19 years ago when I entered college. I was young, impressionable and open to a world of musical discovery. My musical tastes had already gone from new wave 80’s to hair band to punk to pre-grunge alternative to The Dead and classic rock staples. I always felt like my mind was open and I still had love for everything I had discovered to date.

On my first day in the dorms in ’91 I bumped into an old friend from middle school and he said you really should check out this new band and he handed me Nirvanna’s “Nevermind.” With that, the grunge period began and basically captured the entire town of Blacksburg, VA and the rest of the world for that matter. We were immediately surrounded by flannel and teen angst and aggression.

About a month later, I followed my Dead roots and fell into a group of friends that represented the other side of college in the early-90’s. The peaceful, antithesis of the ever-present grunge era. They were still seeing the Dead, going up to the mountains of Southwest VA to have parties and lose their shit and exploring music in a different away but being fully influenced by the aggression around them. I met a guy named Dave that was a friend of a high school buddy’s girlfriend. Several folks actually called him Dave Weed for some obvious reasons. Dave was a smart, likable, funny dude who loved to party and explore music and his mind. I remember the day clearly when I was over at his dorm room doing what Dave “Weed” and I would do and he said, “check out this tape dude…it is this sick band from Vermont that’s playing up in Charlottesville at Trax in a few weeks.” It was some horrible-sounding late 80’s audience recording Phish that had songs like Contact, Fee, Alumni Blues, Ride Captain Ride and others on it. I struggled with it at first but I couldn’t put it down. It was so Goddamn weird but so new and such amazing playing from the unit. It captured the heart of what I grew up listening to…the Zeppelin mixed in with the Dead and the Alternative and 80’s influences that had shaped my tastes…but it also spoke to my inner-dork. That piece of you that played video games, watched Star Wars movies and checked out untouchable, hot sorority girls on campus from afar.

I didn’t make it to that Trax show in November of ‘91 show but I continued to listen and explore the band the rest of the school year and finally saw them for the first time in my home town of Richmond, VA during the Summer break between my Freshman and Sophomore year of college. The band had just gotten off of the innaugural H.O.R.D.E Tour and in a couple of days they would begin touring the US with Santana. I remember the venue being packed and it was the Cleary brothers from High School and my own brother, Martin, and myself. We were there on time but the line was down the street. The show was sold to capacity and fans were clamoring to get in to see “What this band would do next!”

We got in midway through the first song and settled into the balcony. The Flood Zone down by the canal was this old warehouse that set up like the ThunderDome in Mad Max. The entertainment happened on the stage but the band was surrounded by people in front to the side and above. It was a closeness that is hard to describe in words. We were directly above the band and the visual of the whole thing was as crazy as what they were playing. Dwarf drummer at the front of the stage in goggles and a dress, the tall head of hair bouncin’ to the sounds of his pounding bass lines, the mad scientist on the keys and ever-present vocal frontman that wailed on guitar and made the strangest faces as he floored you with his powerful sound. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. I knew the songs from the tapes I had listened to all year but I had never actually seen the mayhem that produced it. The internet was in its infancy. The only picture of the band I had seen was this random article in the “Too New to be Known” section of Relix. But to see them live and in their element was different. The band gave it to the crowd and the crowd fed the band. It was an incredible experience to watch the symphony all happen from that railing. There were moments where you ran yourself ragged dancing with all your might and other moments that you just stared stunned with complete sensory overload and at times you just laughed at the spectacle.

This was not the Dead…the Dead let you relax in the groove, close your eyes and feel the music. This was visual. It was active. It was intense. It took your breath away at times and you didn’t want to leave your seat. I remember very few pee songs in that show. We didn’t want to walk away because we had no clue what would occur next and we couldn’t miss a moment.  And every night in those days something inevitably would happen. It was as much improvisational theater as it was a musical performance. These guys were caricatures. You would inevitably get a treat each night that made your experience unique. Sometimes they worked. Other times they failed miserably but ultimately you never forgot the experience.  Our treat that evening was Trey somehow figured out the Linda Rondstadt song, Blue Bayou, during one of the 2^nd set jams and worked it in nicely. As Page was getting ready to roll off with The Squirming Coil encore, Trey kept interrupting with his newly discovered song like a little annoying 4 year old. It was fun and loose and all happening in real time and both the band and crowd were enjoying the candid moment.

This week I saw my 50^th show in 18 years. I do not claim to be the biggest fan, the guy that has seen the most shows or has listened to the most tapes. Hell, I’ve never even heard the show that I detail here…nor do I really care to. I like to remember it as a moment in time in my life that captured my sense of discovery. The band has grown as have the venues and the experiences have had their peaks and valleys. I forget sometimes what it is like to feel a crowd and this band that we love work together in unison…the same way they did that summer night in Shockoe Bottom Richmond. 

Thanks again, Dave Weed.