|
superdee ::
kayceman ::
stein ::
getz
THE KAYCEMAN COMETH
There was no choice. There was never any choice with Phish. From those days in the early '90s up to their phinal shows ever, there was never any choice whether we would be there. I clearly recall those nights in 1995 when we would walk out of the show, there was never any question if we were going tomorrow night, it was simply a matter of, "what time do we have to leave to make the opener?" And so it was with Coventry, and this time you REALLY had to want it... No, you had to NEED it.
Trey Anastasio : 08.15.04 : VT by David Vann |
On Thursday night in Camden (the site of the last real Phish show--which was white hot by the way) prior to the now infamous weekend in Vermont, leader of Phish (and for many the entire universe) Trey Anastasio told me to wait until Saturday to enter the rolling hills and open fields that would serve as Phish's goodbye. He said it was very wet and they needed some more time to prepare, and as he repeated the fact that nothing was going to happen before Saturday we were easily convinced. And when the leader speaks, you listen. Thus we put the drive off, we slept a bit more and we let the time pass laughing with dear phriends as we prepared for the end of an era. Fast forward to Saturday morning, we're but a few miles away, it's about 9 a.m., we're listening to Phish's "Bunny" radio station being broadcast from the festival grounds. In some way similar (allow me to be melodramatic here, it was very emotional) to when the radio bled news of JFK's assassination, bassist Mike Gordon took the mic and "officially" told "everyone" to turn around. We pulled over; we parked our caravan on the side of the road as a full spectrum of emotions began to turn purple and red in my mind. "Shut up for a second. He said 'no cars' can come in." And like the "Secret Language" we all learned ten years ago, Mike was secretly telling me to park my car and get my ass in there any way possible. He didn't say, "Coventry is canceled." (Even if he had I was going in to find out for myself). I grabbed the radio by its collar and screamed, "Listen Mike, I love you, but we all know Trey is in charge. Trey said to come Saturday. It's Saturday, and I'M COMING!" I had just completed a 20 year course, I wasn't about to miss the final exam.
 |
 |
| left by Jen Katz :: right by Rie Kasahara |
Coventry by Mary Grace Dunn |
And so it began. Our long, ominous, arduous pilgrimage to Mecca was under way... And like all those stories you read in Sunday school, the religious pilgrimage would be grueling, and some wouldn't make it, but the most devout would simply not be denied. This connection to religion is not simply a nice metaphor. For a generation of 20-, now many 30-something's who have been disaffected by the mass religious commodity, where everything is sterile business and nothing is spiritual; in a time when religion equals hate and war is sacrament; in a day when the most holy of men, the priests of our congregations should be slung on a cross for what they have done to the youth behind closed doors--it should come as no surprise that our generation has turned to music, and specifically, we have put our Phaith in Phish. I never saw God in a book, but we have seen the holiest of holies in the rafters of Madison Square Garden, in the summer skies surrounding Trey's Languedoc.
We have tasted something much larger than life in Phish, and in bringing our community together and performing rituals, in bonding us all together in something that was far greater than our daily lives we truly found spirituality. As the great writer Kurt Vonnegut said, "MUSIC FOR ME IS PROOF OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD" and in late 2004 Trey and Phish are God's prophets, and Coventry was the phinal coming. Yes, I realize that is a lot to digest, and perhaps that is part of why they simply had to pull the plug, why they had to end it before the weight of it all imploded and killed us all... It was time to touch the heavens once more and then swim into the sky, it was time to say goodbye.
Page and Trey : 08.14.04 : VT by Tony Stack |
Goodbyes are always messy. Like leaving a love you simply don't want to let go of, but simply know you must; they're full of emotions, of tears, of cracking voices and weak knees. Phish was my first love, they taught me everything about what music could be. They opened the doors that are still flying open at a rate my ears can only hope to keep up with. They say you never forget the one who first took your heart, your virginity, and I will clearly never forget Phish. And if that goodbye to the girl you first met in high school was hard and cluttered, this, the phinal goodbye to four men who have served as friend, lover, and father to us all would prove to be muddled, raunchy, and messier than imaginable, yet it would also be exactly as it should be. It would be a microcosm for all that Phish was, and in turn, all that life can be.
There are some things you simply cannot control, things like the weather, the mud, and traffic. Things like when your cat dies or what songs Phish will play, or if they will ever play again. And that, like Phish in some ways, reflects our existence on this planet, and this one time, these last moments were simply not about notes and transitions, flubs and miscues, it was about being with phamily and saying goodbye. If you wanted to see Phish in their element, doing what they do best, you should have been in Camden (or countless other shows over the past 21 years). Coventry wasn't about that at all--that was over. Coventry was about bidding pharewell to our heroes.
Trey Anastasio : 08.14.04 : VT
By Tony Stack |
Saturday August 14, the first day of Phish's two-day pharewell concert was a whirlwind. If you were able to negotiate the maze of traffic and traverse the mass of land, if you actually managed to get into Coventry on Saturday, you had already won. More so than any other night with Phish, just being there was enough.
I'm leaving you a message
I'm leaving you a trace
I'm leaving thoughts for you
I hope that time will not erase
-Walls of the Cave
To think that these final six sets were not scripted, from the first song to the last note, would be naive. This was 20 years in the making and you can be damn well sure that Trey carefully placed each song his band would play. And so the opener was "Walls of the Cave"--leaving us this final message that time could never erase. This was the final offering we would be given, and it was underway with the ever-so-perfect words to fit the moment.
Perhaps even more so than on Sunday, the first day of the festival was plagued by rough spots and wrong notes. Imagine the stress this must have put on the band. To have to turn phans away, to almost have to cancel their festival, to have to deal with the weather, the police and the safety of us all, I can't even imagine what such headaches did to their level of focus. And again, to just be there was all that was needed, nothing else mattered anymore. This is a band of absolute pros, and in turn their fans are professionals as well. Similar to making the long trek from Alpine Valley to Hershey Park in one night, fighting the forces of nature and unthinkable consequences, getting into Coventry was the light at the end of the tunnel, to have made it was enough.
Trey Gives Away the Trampolines
08.14.04 by Libby McLinn |
One of the most telling (and of course scripted) moments of the weekend came during what very well may be the band's signature song "You Enjoy Myself." After Trey and Mike enjoyed the trampolines for one last time Trey walked out across the rocks that lay in front of the stage. He stood in front of his disciples some how akin to Moses in front of the Hebrews. In a symbolic sacrificial offering that said more than words ever could, Trey gave us the trampolines. He handed the sacred instruments out to hungry hands and in doing so he made it clear: "That was the last time you will ever hear 'Y.E.M.' I no longer require these bouncing devices. They are yours. It's over."
Musically things hit a fresh stride when Trey decided to "blow off a little steam" for the first time during the Set I closing "Fire." It would be the end section with feedback and ethereal white-grey-black-red noise swallowing the crowd that would find those rare moments when things get a little strange and the music takes on a life of its own. Yes, "Y.E.M." and "Antelope" had moments of glory, but it was the final minutes of "Fire" that screamed success.
Mike Gordon : 08.14.04 : VT
By Tony Stack |
Taking off where "Fire" had ended, the Set II opening "AC/DC Bag" would be a highlight of the entire weekend. Like all of us, I trust Trey has an easier time opening up when the sun goes down, and the back of "Bag" was as good as anything Phish has done in recent years. A botched "Yamar" (shit, I'm still glad I heard it) led to a discussion about Phish. Trey took the mic and told us about the ancient cabin with no electricity that he holed up in only 15 miles away. He spun a tale of candlelight writing sessions and searching his mind for what his legacy would be. He explained the tenets of his writing; he told us there were two songs that exemplified all of this, one he would play now, the other tomorrow night. Trey explained his need to find out, "How far can you push it in the harmonic and rhythmic language and still have people dancing?" He was talking about a prototype for what their music would be. He was talking about "David Bowie." Matching the "AC/DC Bag" in intensity, "Bowie" was awesome, darkly inspiring and satiating.
The third set began with "Twist," a song that the band worked and reworked over the past few years from a barely enjoyable throwaway to a deathly nasty jam platform. A painful "Wedge" followed (again, very rough, and at times hard to swallow, but for some reason still enjoyable?) and a very deliberate and drawn out "Stash" rescued the band. To match the "Bag" and "Bowie" of night one, the "Drowned" we all knew was coming (due of course to the torrential down pours, hurricane conditions, and mud bog that threatened Coventry) had a hard time getting on path, but the jam that ensued was full of life and sweaty passion. It was enough to erase the skid marks, it was all we needed.
Trey and Mike on the Rocks
08.14.04 by Libby McLinn |
The encore of "Harry Hood" found Trey and Mike on those same sacrificial rocks in front of the stage, inches apart, face to face, working the sections of one of the band's most beloved movements. Was it the best, tightest, most uplifting "Hood" I've ever heard? No, not even close. Was it the way I would have performed my final "Hood?" Certainly not. Does any of that matter? Not in the least. It was how Trey wanted to bid "Harry" goodbye, and that, my friends, is good enough of me. It damn well should be good enough for us all.
It was a strange, emotional, overwhelming, and very heavy sensation to know we were about to witness the last show from our band. To know beforehand that it would be the band's final show is unprecedented in rock 'n' roll. No one knew when Jerry would die, and no one knew the day Mikey Houser would be unable to go on. No one can predict helicopter crashes and drug overdoses, so to have it marked on the calendar and go into August 15, 2004 with the knowledge that Phish very well may never play again created a sensation that will likely never be duplicated. I'm not even sure we have the words in our dialect to describe exactly the mix of emotions that were swimming inside as the band took the stage and launched into the last opener ever: "Mike's Song" > "I am Hydrogen" > "Weekapaug Groove." Again there were miscues and the set was far from perfect, and from afar, from simulcast and downloads I'm sure it was magnified, but somehow in its imperfection it was just at it should be, just as it had to be. It was what it was, and we loved it.
Trey & Page : 08.15.04 : VT
By Tony Stack |
The "Reba" that hadn't been touched the entire mini-tour was a much needed sound, the "Chalkdust Torture" fierce and grinding with a massive heated section on the tail. "Wolfman's Brother" found Trey again giving explanations, offering tidbits some of us knew and all of us wanted. He told how Fishman is the Wolfman's Brother, and he related the tale of that phone ringing. Trey and Mike brought their moms out and did the "Sexy Bump" with them. Page jumped on the clavinet and brought Phish's version of dub-rock to fruition. The set ended with a hot "Taste" and more borderline angry interaction with their instruments.
The second set of the second and final night was the moment of complete connection and elevation I needed from the weekend. It was the last time I would be completely tapped into the frequency, it was the last time I would completely give myself to the band receiving the message via the mainline.
 |
 |
| Coventry : 08.15.04 by David Vann |
Waiting for the time when I can finally say
That this has all been wonderful but now I'm on my way
-Down With Disease
Playing the glowsticks : Down With Disease
08.15.04 by Libby McLinn |
You knew it was coming. You knew the day Trey posted that note on Phish's website telling us all that it was over that this was coming. And I'm very happy to report that when they decided to open Set II with "Down With Disease" it was completely over the top. With all the glowsticks that have ever glowed flying through the air and Trey even picking a pair up and using them to manipulate his guitar, the hinges began to come unglued. Phish was summoning the spirits from above and sending the UFO into hyperspace. As if too much for even them to handle they pulled the levers back and placed us firmly in the emotional mud of "Velvet Sea." With a completely exposed, raw Page fighting tears and damn near having his own meltdown, it was the genuine emotion and heartfelt look into their souls that actually made "Velvet Sea" bearable for me. It was actually the one and only time I cheered during this song. No, I wasn't even really cheering for the song, but for Page, and his fully open wound that was spilling over the masses.
Page McConnell : 08.15.04 : VT by David Vann |
Trying to work the delicate "Glide" after the crying and clearly overwhelming emotions of the moment was hard to watch. "Glide" was butchered beyond repair, but as Trey fought back his own demons, his own weakness and emotions, he told us not once, but twice that it was yet again time to "blow off some fuckin' steam." And as the skies threatened rain, dropping a few morsels of water and showing ominous clouds over the hill, Trey took the Phish stake and drove it to the core of the earth. The band stopped playing music and became a conduit of the earth's energy spouting vibrations into the sky and forcing Mother Nature back into her abyss, clearing the skies as if to proclaim, "No, not now. You have made it hard enough. You rained for weeks leading up and you will rain when we are done, but you will not rain now. You will not ruin this. You will go away and we will open up the earth." And with that "Split Open and Melt" would be the unequivocal moment of glory that I needed in my final Phish experience. Dark and nasty, full of all the grit I once depended on, "Split Open" melted into "Ghost" as the band continued to ride the devilish ambience of their time-space continuum. Those 45-odd minutes when all life stood still and Phish held the energy of music, Mother Nature, and existence in the air, it was all happening, Phish had complete control of our psyche and took us to an elevated state of being.
Anastasio & Gordon : 08.15.04 : VT by David Vann |
Five sets down, and just one more to go... this was it. It almost seemed like a race to find out what that final song would be. They already played "Reba," they already gave us "Hood" and "DWD." What could it be? Where would they go? But before the end, they opened one more set with the perfectly fitting "Fast Enough For You."
"Seven Below," one of the few "later-era Phish" songs of the weekend was strong, featuring a never-before-seen psychotic vocal section. After a swirling "Piper" the band did something so quintessentially Phish that in some ways it was the key moment of the set. Instead of simply thanking their crew and dropping the necessary names, Phish created a song to give thanks unto their monitor engineer Mark "Bruno" Bradley. As Trey explained, we (the universal "we the Phish community") had never once uttered a word about the exceptional, absolutely crucial work Bruno does behind his monitors. So to properly acknowledge this they wrote a song called "The Bruno." This was the quirky, dorky, ingenious Phish that grabbed me ten years ago. This was the band that can improvise like none other; this was the sense of humor that was always so critical to their delivery. This was another side of Phish, perhaps not as head-splitting heavy as the "Split Open" or "DWD," but certainly a vital part of the organism.
Trey Anastasio : 08.15.04 : VT
By David Vann |
After an emotional, tear-jerking, last goodbye to our nemesis "Wilson," Trey led the band into the cathartic, marvelously played "Slave to the Traffic Light." As powerful and moving as anything they performed all weekend, "Slave" released the shackles and made up for any and all errors we may have heard. Whether it was perfect or not, IT WAS PERFECT. Tears were flowing and hugs exchanged, fireworks lit up the sky and if I may dare to speak for 70,000--it was 100% surreal.
One song remained. The weeks of speculation were about to pop, we still had no idea... for some reason I couldn't even wager a guess. "The Curtain With." Are you fucking kidding me. How could I not have ever put my finger on it? It was the most obvious, most perfect song for this situation any band could ever have dreamed, and it was in their arsenal. This was the second song Trey was waiting to play that was tied to "David Bowie" in that cabin in the woods, the other song he believed was the prototype for all of Phish's future. It was as if Trey knew 20 years ago this would be the last song they would ever play. This was the one he was saving, thank God. And this one time it just didn't matter that they had to restart the jam because they were out of key. I hardly noticed. This was it, and it was absolutely perfect. To spell it out, we were granted the imagery of the curtain coming down after the show is over, the ultimate sign that the show has reached its conclusion. But that is only a third of the equation. With our show-ending imagery we hear our leader's voice uttering, "PLEASE ME, HAVE NO REGRETS." Could there be a better phinal phrase? Absolutely not. And finally, on top of the imagery and the words we have "The With"--the jam, the critical musical component that Phish was spawned on. "The Curtain With" and time stood still one last time. "The Curtain With" and all was at peace. "The Curtain With" and that was it.
The Phinal Bow : 08.15.04 : VT by Libby McLinn |
After all was said and done, what was Coventry? Coventry was the exclamation point on a 20-plus-year career that has proven that we were the lucky ones who witnessed what very well may be the most influential band of our lifetime. Coventry was also the ultimate testament to the band we love. As Jon Fishman said on that final day, "For all you people who walked in here--(long pause)--that's the greatest compliment that we could ever have. Thank you so much. That's just unbelievable." What greater statement could we have made than to literally do WHATEVER it took to be there with them. To walk up to 18 miles. To sit in up to 50 hours of traffic. To fight every odd imaginable, but yet to be there NO MATTER WHAT. What greater thank you could we have given them?
As I sit here days later, still contemplating and digesting, I am left with one complete notion of satisfaction. They have satiated my thirst and left me where I need to be. They did it. Somehow they made me love them again (which I did not think was possible) and then they quit. I hope they never come back. This is the taste I want in my mouth, this is how I want to remember Phish.
In the end all I can do is send love and thanks to all the people who made it possible. To all those wonderful people in Vermont who opened their yards and their hearts to the thousands of us stranded in a foreign land. To the Bruno's and Kuroda's, the bus drivers, Paluska-Colton managers, to the moms and to the dads, to Ernie Stires, and to all of you. And of course, most of all, THANK YOU to Mike, Page, Fish and Trey for showing us the way and giving so much. Thank you Phish, thank you. Pharewell my phriend.
The Kayceman
JamBase | Worldwide
Go See Live Music!
|
