Superball IX is part of a noble Phish tradition: the summer festival. Tracing the rise of the band and then their sudden collapse, these events are defining moments, each a document of its era. They may not have been the best shows, but they always were the most memorable event of the year. Between the art and the surprise sets and the random encounters that happen when thousands of people camp together, the Phish festivals transcended the concept of being a concert. Phish had a chance to create their own events and in doing so redefined what an event could be.
The Proto-fest Amy’s Farm – 8/3/91
While some might argue that Ian McLean’s Farm in 1987 was home to the first festival, Amy’s Farm seems to fit that bill better. Coming at the end of the Giant Country Horn tour, Phish staged a free (Well almost… there was a nominal parking charge) show at the home of famed First Fan Amy Skelton. While drawing nowhere near the crowds of later festivals, some of the ideas were already starting to form. There was a parking/camping area and a blocked off concert area that was only open at show time. The sides of the concert venue had food vendors; albeit without Mr. Sausage. It felt like a miniature version of what would evolve.
Other than some “I Love Lucy Theme” teases, a Jamie Janover sit in, and an incredibly long held note by Trey at the end of “Stash,” this show is largely remembered for the first encore. The infamous Dude of Life came out to perform three of his songs, one with the aid of Page’s wife to be.
While the guests helped, the one thing that makes this event feel like the root of what was to come happened in the camping lot. After the last notes of “Harry Hood” rang out and the space was cleared, a rumor started to circulate. Phish was going to play a fourth set late that night. It might not have come to fruition at the Farm, but late night bonuses would become a defining characteristic.
A Beacon of Light in the World of Flight – the Clifford Ball 8/16-17/96
The first airmail flight from Pittsburgh to Cleveland was made by a plane named Miss Pittsburgh – a vehicle owned by a Clifford A Ball. The festival named after him resembled Amy’s Farm in roughly the same way that Miss Pittsburgh reminds one of a 747. All of the elements are there but the difference in scope overwhelms the similarities.
No one really knew what to expect from a festival held on an Air Force base in northern New York. Perhaps Phish themselves weren’t sure. Any idea that sounded cool was added to the mix. Stilt walkers greeted fans walking into the event. There was a town center with a ball based theme and a room where you could record a confessional for the band to view. An orchestra played between sets. Planes flew overhead with funny messages behind them such as, “A dime from here would penetrate.”
Even Phish’s sets were infused with randomness. “Harry Hood” had a massive fireworks show at end of the song. Acrobats came out and performed during “Tweezer” and “Antelope.” For some reason Ben and Jerry came out and sang during “Brother,” demonstrating why they made ice cream instead of music.
The two defining moments of the Ball came at the end of each of the shows. Sometime in the middle of the night, Phish got on the back of a flatbed truck and drove around the campground while playing a jam. Some people ran after it, others just slept through it. Even for those who missed it, it was something incredible to hear about the next day. The encore of the event didn’t get quite as favorable of a review. The “Harpua” was supposed to end with a stunt plane flying overhead, but there was a miscommunication. The band couldn’t see the plane and the story wasn’t able to coordinate. The unfinished “Harpua” and the confusion surrounding it was one of the few complaints. A band with no hits or radio airplay drew 60,000 people to an Air Force base in the middle of nowhere. They were onto something here!
An Easy Drive From Any Direction – The Great Went 8/16-17/97
The one problem with Plattsburgh is that it was just too darn easy to get to. A real festival should be played at the very tip of Maine. That at least seemed to be the logic behind The Great Went. Take I-95 to the end and then drive another 50 miles north on US 1. Eventually you’ll get to Limestone, ME.
The Great Went was one of the biggest events to ever hit Aroostook County, even bigger than the Potato Blossom Festival! Residents as far south as Houlton sat in their yards and watched the endless traffic stream by. People even stood on overpasses on I-95 to check this out. The circus had come to town.
Once fans made it past the endless two lane highway, there were some twists to the event. In addition to a town square – now complete with a building filled with fighting remote controlled appliances and the debut of the Bubble House, perfect for your need to be immersed in soap bubbles – there was also a corn maze (albeit non-challenging as the corn wasn’t high enough) and a giant clothesline.
On stage, Phish quickly tried to alleviate Clifford Controversy by ending the “Harpua” as part of the “soundcheck,” a.k.a. the first part of the show. By the end of the second night though, there would be a new one.
One of the booths in the square had a place where you could paint pieces of plywood. The art was all collected and during the second set of the second night, right after an all time great version of “Bathtub Gin,” the band created their own and passed them over to the giant sculpture that had been erected. During “Harry Hood,” Trey asked for the lights to be dimmed so we could all look at the sculpture. This led to the spontaneous occurrence of a glowstick war, birthing the tradition that would last for years.
The second setbreak was filled with discussion about how great the “Gin” was, how cool the glowsticks were, but also about Trey’s speech about the art we had collectively created, how it symbolized the connection that they had with us. And that’s why it was so stunning during the encore when the giant matchstick caught on fire and torched it. Perhaps a statement about the ephemeral nature of the artistic process, how the improvisation can only exist in the moment, it still was rather shocking to see.
The Return to Limestone – Lemonwheel 8/15-16/98
We started to have the system down now. People discovered the utility of the Bangor airport and had the local hotels scouted out. Some poured over maps and learned back roads into the venue. We knew we were going to the ends of the earth and prepared accordingly.
The design of the central area was an Asian one. The Garden of Infinite Pleasantries had a rock garden and a pond, but it was mainly remembered for the Porta-John Pagoda, a stacked up collection of portable toilets. It was best to visit that one on the first day before people actually started using it.
The previous two years had had unannounced fourth sets in the campground; this year they made it official. Phish announced at the end of the encore that they would be playing an ambient set. They took a break and then lit the stage with candles while playing a beautiful jam. The dynamics of the fourth set were interesting as the mellow nature of the music combined with the chilly Maine night caused some people to drift out towards the campground. Those who stayed had plenty of room to lie down and let the music wash over them.
Perhaps the biggest influence on future festivals happened towards the back of the field. For the first time Phish would bring in a Ferris Wheel , the wheel in the Lemonwheel. This would be so popular that it would reappear at almost every subsequent event. Lives have been changed waiting in line for these, couples have formed (one of which is getting married just up the road this very weekend), all due to a play on words.
Also new for Lemonwheel was the clarity of the ending. There would be no controversy in 1998. As “Harry Hood” ended, a fuse was lit. This wrapped around the stage and slowly burned to the side where it ended at a statue of a giant elephant. It raised its head and slowly moved towards the exit to the strains of “Baby Elephant Walk.” We had a leader to guide us out of the venue and back to reality.
The Heat Goes On – Camp Oswego 7/17-18/99
If you ever wanted to make a living as a psychiatrist specializing in Phish fans, offer up, “Camp Oswego,” in a game of word association. If they don’t answer with a variant of “Hot,” or “Incredibly hot!” or “I thought I was going to die from the heat,” then they’re obviously functionally insane.
There are times where the weather overrides everything. Camp Oswego brought out some good ideas, some of which would be recycled at Big Cypress (which like Festival 8 is not a summer festival and is out of scope of this article) such as having the festival square – The Green – outside of the venue. This way if you wanted to go into the Bubble House (brought back for a third straight year) or play some Atari 2600 games you could do so at 3 AM. They also had actors wandering the area pretending to row canoes on the asphalt.
One idea that didn’t catch on was the second stage. On any other weekend, being able to see Son Seals and The Living Daylights and The Slip would be a good thing but people were largely huddled under shade during the day. Seals did make an appearance on the big stage, letting Phish play “Funky Bitch” with the author. Along with the welcome appearance of “Have Mercy,” and a bizarre “Icculus” where Trey explained that “Cat Scratch Fever” and “Smoke on the Water” are the same song (but “Smoke on the Water” is still better), it was a highlight of the weekend.
Our Intent Is All For Your Delight – IT 8/2-3/03
After five years off, Phish returned to Limestone in 2003. Unfortunately this time they brought rain with them. Some last second logistical changes led to incredibly long delays for people trying to get into the lot. Sawdust was dropped, mud was dealt with, and no one knew how fortunate they were compared to what was to come.
IT’s artwork was perhaps the most elaborate project. Dubbed The Sunken City, it featured a post-apocalyptic town, complete with a Bob’s Big Boy, a hotel, and a piece of neon that gave the koan-esque decree of, “Yeah is good.” A sub-theme of the weekend was Groucho Glasses. These were handed out. Even the water tower to the side of the stage was decorated with a massive set. It seemed to be building towards something but it was just a random joke.
As befitting the 2.0 era of Phish, It was defined by long jams. There was an interesting space jam between “Waves” and “David Bowie,” a high energy 30+ minute “Ghost,” and a “46 Days” that lasted nearly 46 minutes. The best jamming perhaps occurred during the third set of the first night, a fluid tour de force of some of the newer songs, bookended by songs that had “it” as a crucial part of the lyrics.
As interesting as the art and music were, they were overshadowed by a legendary moment. Phish played a surprise set on top of the airport’s control tower as dancers rappelled up and down the structure. Most of the attendees were oblivious to this happening, but for those who were lucky enough to stumble across it, it was an exquisite combination of music and art.
God Says No – Coventry 8/14-15/04
2004 was not a good time to be a Phish fan. In the wake of a disastrous run in Las Vegas, Trey announced that the band would be ending their career with the summer. What was shaping up to be the first Vermont Festival would now be a farewell instead.
In theory something must have gone right at this event, but few stories are told about that. Days of drenching rain turned the field into a muddy quagmire; at least we all hoped it was mostly mud. The few cars that could make it into the parking lot were largely getting stuck. Finally the Vermont State Police made the call. No more cars would be allowed in. This was the watershed for fans stuck on I-91. Many people chose that moment to make a leap of faith, parked their car on the highway, and walked as much as 20 miles, carrying the bare minimum of camping supplies.
It would be nice to be able to say that those fans were rewarded for their effort with an epic show. However, despite some nice moments in the jams, this is an event defined by failure. The art installations were largely unable to be delivered. The maps handed out were inaccurate. The fourth set to be held in the covered wagon had to be ditched.
What do people remember about Coventry? Trey stumbling on the rock sculpture in front of the stage, Page breaking down during “Velvet Sea,” Trey repeating the same rambling story both nights, having to restart the final song because it was in the wrong key, and – most of all – the abomination of “Glide” where it seemed like Trey had lost any ability to play his instrument.
As awful as the “Glide” is – and it’s immortalized on You Tube for anyone to see – it does serve a purpose. As we get ready for a new summer festival and the excitement builds, the low of Coventry is just as important as the highs of the previous years. The potential for joy at this event is even stronger knowing how close we came to losing the band – if not Trey himself – a few years ago. If you get a chance, take a moment to reflect on how lucky we are to be here on this racetrack seeing this band playing these songs that we love. We get another summer festival, another chance to wonder what surprises await us. That alone will make this a super ball.
