Peaches En Randalia #42
“It isn’t rambling if you see a few fun spots along the way.” – Bugs Bunny, sometime in the 20th Century…(I think he said that.)
A few months back I was interviewed for a Writer’s Workshop series by editor and writer Ryan Dembinsky. A few of my answers explain how I feel about my craft, and how it also relates to my strong passion for improvisational music, especially my deep fondness for the music of Vermont’s Finest. I thought I would start off this brief discussion of the Return of Punk Rock Phish at Hartford on August 14, 2009 with a few excerpts from that interview to help explain my thesis. And what is that heady thesis? Phish is at its best when the band dismantles their songs down into tiny fragments which allow the audience to break through their own barriers to the band, and the music solidifies the collective union in a Townshendian way. Hence, Phish is occasionally a really good punk band.
Or something oh so deeply nutty yet spiritual like that.
Gentleman Interviewer: If you had to take a crack at defining your writing style and approach to differentiating yourself, how would you sum it up?
Rogue Writer: “Organized Chaos, which succeeds if I can plant unique visual imagery in a reader’s mind. When the writing fails, I am trying too hard. Style should be a four-letter word. Sometimes, I want the black and white words on a page to move like one is on a rollercoaster; sometimes, I want imagery to zoom by at random intervals like one is on a carousel; and then, sometimes, I’d like the portrait to resemble shattered pictures within a kaleidoscope. Sometimes, I haven’t a clue.
I like mystique, and I start off from an interesting point of origin, move towards clarity, and then return to that original point of mystery—hopefully, with some unique spin on things. I do my homework, and research my subjects. I also concentrate on the work, because the written word, after all, survives, so I keep that in mind with any project.”
Later, he asked me about my interview process. Yes, after over 100 Q&A’s, I do tend to get nervous before the cat gets on the phone with me, or we meet somewhere to chat. That will hopefully never change. I responded to his question in this way: “the only musician I’ve ever been really nervous speaking with was Trey Anastasio because we weren’t actually talking about easy subjects, and, like thousands of other cool cats, hippies, Wookies, Phunky Bitches, legendary loonies, and heady scribes, Big Red will always be a very creative and iconic hero to me, despite his faults.”
Still nervous around Trey, eh? It is interesting that Phish has spent 2009 doing what they needed to do to re-solidifiy that pretentious but telling collective union with its fan base.
For the most part, after Summer Tour – Leg 2 was completed, the consensus was—either by those who attended, or listened to the downloads, or did both—that Phish is back playing music with excellent chops, skill, talent, and an occasional desire to experiment.
That last attribute has always been my most favorite aspect of my little Phish fandom. I love how the band would either rehearse or spontaneously break into a rather geeky routine that was both musically compelling, and memorable as a theatrical set piece. I am writing this column for veterans, like myself, who may have moved on from the band, and only catch occasional marquee gigs due to family commitments, or an overall sense that Phish is in their past. Therefore, I will not provide oodles of examples of how Phish has broken the 4th wall, dashed over the invisible barrier at the front of center stage, and joined the audience. The tapes are out there, so is the film, just go treasure hunting. It’s more fun anyway. [Author’s Note: can you have an “Author’s Note” within a column? Isn’t that vaguely how-do-you-say “dissociative identity disorder,” or something official like that? Part of me says yes; the other, of course, is in complete denial…anyway, as we were saying: in one of many interesting passages in the recent Waful feature series on the site, Jefferson explains how fans have lost their grasp of the great aura surrounding a band—due to quick and easy access to live shows (both audio and video)—that is critical to sustaining interest and developing a unique mystique around said band. I concur.]
At Hartford, the setlists looked comically over-the-top like someone else, some great fan, or group of phans, or the Green Team wrote an All-Star Setlist. Thankfully, after seeing each song pop up on the Internet as the show progressed and salivating and hoping that the show was as incredible as it looked on paper (remember rule #1: for the most part, setlists don’t mean shit on the improv circuit), the tapes offered the proof: Punk Rock Phish was back, if only for a fleeting moment on August 14, 2009.
Hartford is the only Phish show since Hampton that I have listened to more than once. There is a profound sense of rule-breaking, excellent group mind playing, communion with the audience, and just plain fun going on here from the first set’s ridiculous one-two-three jab-right cross-uppercut sequence of “PYITE,” “AC/DC Bag,” and “NICU,” to the following “Colonel Forbin’s>Mockingbird” sequence without narration that was quickly ratified when Trey playfully lectured the audience in the second set. Elsewhere, a triumphantly weird (is that description of the combo possible?) “Stash” serves as a bridge between “Lawn Boy” and “I Didn’t Know” reminding one and all that a) the band is cheesy, and b) they can all sing pretty well, too. (I’ll throw you a melodic bone, Fish.)
However, the second set, when one was following the show on-line as the songs would be posted on the screen, looked even better. Indeed, the setlist looked completely fake. Or, Phish had decided to play another “If the World Ended Tomorrow, Could We End it on a High & Mighty Note?” gig that is critical for a band to remember. A band, at any level, needs to hit the stage like no one knows who they are and they have something to prove. The crowd needs to be critical and opinions should be based on the music currently being played, and not any past notions of what Phish once did from ’85-‘04.
At Hartford, Phish had been coming off two rather lackadaisical shows, and perhaps they knew that. Doesn’t matter much. They play one night; they play another; ever onwards. Perhaps, they finally had something to prove again. Doesn’t matter much. What matters is that Phish played one of their greatest versions of “Slave to the Traffic Light” in the middle of an epic second set in August of 2009. Later, Phish concucted that magical bit of wacky weirdness and sense of glorious wonder that had been missing in 2009 with a Pong-game theme that ran from “Piper” through “Icculus” and fed into a fine yet unpredictably off-balance run through “YEM,” their crown jewel.
To wrap up all of this madness with a thematically-taut thesis conclusion, I once read an interview with Jimmy Page (influencer of said Phish; influencee of the late Les Paul) in 1979 where he stated that the punk rock movement was filled with passion and rock needed a good kick in the nuts in the late 70s to shake complacency from its foundation. But what got the Zeppelin leader perplexed was that with every revolution, one needed to see where those who would be in power would be going. What was their agenda? If you ain’t got a plan, then who are you to destroy the Emperor?
I liked the Hartford show because, for the first time in 2009, I could see where Phish was going after the revolution: they want to take chances, but they also don’t want to lose the audience’s interest while they are experimenting with tearing down the 4th wall. It’ll be interesting to see if Phish can continue to do that without having a noticeable generation gap between the artists on stage, who have already painfully and through countless experiences, mastered the art of transition from peasant to prince to king to wretched self-abuse to redeemed soul, and back to the throne, more cautious and aware of their inevitable mortal fate, and the audience, some of whom have never faced failure or The End in their lives, or use Phish tour as an excuse to avoid their myriad of problems.
What makes Phish great is that when they’ve played truly transcendent “storm- the-palace-gates” shows, they’ve done so by not having an agenda, by not seeing the forest through the trees, by not having a place to go after the revolution is over which Mr. Page had requested. Phish still encompasses the Great Mystery by finding new ways to play a memorable gig, by communicating with the audience, by breaking a hell of a lot of rules, and by…oddly enough…being a punk rock band, and sometimes that’s all there is—history is yesterday; today is for fighting complacency; tomorrow is another show.
See you at Indio. I’ll be the one carrying the writer’s head filled with Organized Chaos.
_- Randy Ray stores much of his work at www.rmrcompany.blogspot.com
