“I’m sorry that you feel that way, the only thing there is to say…”

And that brings me to that other, much smaller population of people who aren’t just indifferent about the upcoming Chicago shows, but are vehemently upset about them because it’s Trey in Jerry’s spot.

Ever since the announcement, I’ve heard more arguments than I care to recount decrying the grievous offense of inviting Phish’s front man stand in for the Grateful Dead’s former front man. Some claim the only reason they chose Trey was to ensure the highest volume of ticket sales or so they could charge premium prices. Others say it should have been Player X, except for Gossip Y and Rumor Z. Still others say they don’t care who plays, they’ve been done since Jerry died and this isn’t going to change anything for them; they’ve said their goodbyes and they’re not about to turn back now, 50th anniversary and final shows ever or not.

Of those groups, it’s actually the last group that I understand the most. There are people out there that prefer to live their lives in chapters with very crisp, clear title pages separating each section. Jerry’s passing marked the end of that chapter for them, just as Pigpen’s passing marked the end of that chapter for some (we bought our first home in Vermont from one of these old school fans… you should have seen his reel-to-reel collection!). It’s those that find fault with Trey’s inclusion that I’m having a really hard time wrapping my head around.

Let’s take a minute and consider that perhaps Trey was chosen because – and this may come as a shock, so brace yourselves — he’s the guy that “the core four” want in that spot, on that stage for their 50th anniversary celebration.

You do remember that this is THEIR 50th anniversary, right? Is there anything that you’ve been doing consistently with several other people and their individual personalities, faults, flaws, priorities and peccadillos for 50 years? Interpersonal relationships take work, commitment and perseverance in order to withstand the erosive effect time can have on them; not all of them are built to last. For these four men to have reached this milestone and still be not only willing, but happy to share the stage once more to play, smile, laugh and celebrate what they’ve achieved together is going to be an experience that everyone who’s lucky enough to be there will cherish for our next 50 years, if we’re lucky enough to stick around that long.

In that sense, this celebration will be for the fans too, of course, but it’s not only for us. They’re the ones who’re up there playing the songs. They’re the ones who’ve worked through every challenge they’ve faced, both together as a band, and individually whenever differences of opinion would arise. They’re the ones who have, over the years, unknowingly auditioned every player whose name we’ve heard thrown around over the past few days… and they’re the ones who reached consensus that although all those others could play the songs beautifully, it’s Trey that they want.

Isn’t that enough? Don’t you trust that if anyone would be a vigilant protector and loyal steward to Jerry’s memory and the Grateful Dead’s legacy for their final 3 shows together, it would be the surviving members themselves? If they want Trey, how can you find fault with that?

To me, even if I set my clear and obvious bias aside, choosing Trey makes perfect sense. Like it or not, Phish has inherited certain aspects of the Grateful Dead’s legacy — the good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly — and I sincerely doubt any of that is lost on Bobby, Phil, Billy and Mickey.

“Every silver lining’s got a touch of grey…”

Like many who’ve spent a significant amount of time in the company of Deadheads and Phish Phans over the past 20 years, I’m well versed in the varied and ridiculous comparisons between Jerry and Trey. Since we now find ourselves in a scenario that irresistibly begs the comparison, let’s just have at it and get it out of our collective systems… shall we?

Jerry had 30 years of experience in dealing with the pressure, the expectations, the criticism and all the baggage that comes with being the lead guitarist in a band with a following known for their excessively obsessive fanaticism.

Jerry was an undisputed master of his craft, having spent countless hours immersed in honing his skills at both listening and playing, drawing inspiration from influences across the canon of American music traditions that included rock, blues, jazz and bluegrass, among others.

Jerry was famously adept at channeling the Muse in a way that could range from soul crushing to face melting, but was always uniquely his own and could never be duplicated without there being a tell that it’s not authentic.

Jerry struggled with self-destructive behaviors that took a toll on his health, his musical ability, his personal relationships and ultimately resulted in his death and the end of the Grateful Dead.

The same can be said of Trey for almost all of these, save the one divergence in that Trey hit rock bottom and was able to turn his life around, get back on top of his game, mend those strained relationships and get his band back. I am not pointing that out to smugly (and offensively) state the obvious, but to call attention to the fact that Trey probably understands more about the gravity of what it means for him to be a part of this celebration than anyone is giving him credit for.

Opinions on “the core four” inviting Trey to play these shows with them are as varied as the perspectives that created them. I don’t expect to win over anyone who’s anti-Trey with this article, but if you consider yourself to be squarely in that camp, I sincerely hope that the negativity you feel about that choice isn’t so overpowering that it will keep you from what promises to be a real good time. I know some of you still look at Phish phans and want to scream, “GET OFF MY LAWN!” – and I get that, I do – but if you’d just give us a chance, I think you’d find that we have more in common than you think.

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