This post has nothing to do with Gone With the Wind or the South’s shameful history of chattel slavery. Instead, it’s your chance to sink your ears into “one of the most sublime transitions Phish has ever pulled off,” the set-opening Story of the Ghost > Slave to the Traffic Light from Atlanta’s Lakewood Amphitheater, July 4, 1999. Go on, click it. You won’t regret it. Trust me. I was there.
For a few days each spring and fall, while the increasingly volatile meteorological pendulum swings from frozen sewer to sweltering garbage heap, New York City enjoys perfect weather. September 11, 2001 was such a day, and so is today — 60 degrees, not a cloud in the sky, and an unheard-of ratio of smiles to thrown elbows at the corner of Broadway & Steinway.
So why I am I still inside, blogging? To share a few linkworthy items, along with my ever-evolving muxtape and another lousy short film: whiplash and Mozart, together at last. If you’d like to join us for the season’s first open-air Jever, drop by the Astoria Beergarden later. I’ll be the guy pointing a camera at you.
It sounds like a lame joke but it’s true: it took me all week to figure out that I wanted to post the following bit of wisdom from the Hagakure, via Ghost Dog:
In the words of the ancients, one should make his decisions within the space of seven breaths. It is a matter of being determined and having the spirit to break through to the other side. (listen)
Certainly lines up nicely with T.H. White’s lesson on how to pull the sword from the stone, quoted earlier. One person who clearly has the spirit to break through to the other side is fickle-blogger Ryan Adams, who can make a movie and write a song called “Thursday Night” and post it on Friday morning.
All week, I’ve been checking back on PhilLesh.net, hoping for the promised photos from the show, reasoning that you can’t possibly post about Ryan Adams’ birthday party without at least one good shot of Ryan’s green knit pom pom hat. I’ll update if any hat photos ever surface; in the meantime, my own camera-phone shot of Phil seen through my friend Walter‘s white shock of late-era Garcia hair will have to suffice.
The shows? Phenomenal. After Halloween‘s cover extravaganza, Tuesday‘s sets mingled classic rock standards — Dixie Down, Brown Sugar, Revolution — with Grateful Dead warhorses like Deal and Shakedown, and seeing Phil drop Other One bombs from the rail was bone-shatteringly good. I was just beginning to miss the ballads when Death Don’t Have No Mercy, sung by Jackie Greene, provided a rare treat, topped off by a sweet, sweet Brokedown Palace for which I happened to be the audience member closest to Phil. A deeply satisfying concert, as good as anything I’d ever hope to see from anybody who didn’t use to be in my favorite band.
But Monday was the real reason I’ll keep on coming back as long as this music is getting played. After a first set loaded with primal late-sixties Dead grooves enhanced by Los Lobos’ Steve Berlin on sax, the second set was pure Deadhead heaven. It happened to be Ryan Adams‘ birthday, reason enough for Phil to splurge and extend the show until after 1am for four hours of music filled with some of the best tunes in the Dead catalog, played with vigor, love, and inventiveness.
An informal poll conducted on the way out confirmed what we already knew: “That was profound” and “Wharf Rat dominated my skull.” Walter, who’d come in from Düsseldorf to see Phil for the first time since 1994, could hardly have picked a better time–if you’re going to take a transatlantic flight to a rock concert, this was the night. Two more shows this weekend top off what by all accounts has been a stellar 11-night run. Thank you, Phil.
Phil Lesh and Friends, Nokia Theater, 11/5/07 Set 1 (with Steve Berlin)
Brown-Eyed Women, The Golden Road (To Unlimited Devotion), Viola Lee Blues > Operator> Viola Lee Blues> Next Time You See Me> Viola Lee Blues, Chest Fever, Sugaree Set 2 (with Ryan Adams)
Happy Birthday Ryan, Eyes of the World> Scarlet Begonias> China Cat Sunflower> Bird Song, Goin’ Down the Road Feeling Bad, Ripple, I Know You Rider> Uncle John’s Band> Dark Star> Franklin’s Tower> Dark Star Encore: Wharf Rat
Phil Lesh and Friends, Nokia Theater, 11/6/07 Set 1: Bertha> Deal, Big River, Gone Wanderin’, Just Like Tom Thumbs Blues, The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down, Cosmic Charlie Set 2: Brown Sugar> Shakedown Street> Revolution, Beat It On Down The Line> Cryptical Envelopment> The Other One> Death Don’t Have No Mercy> The Other One> Brokedown Palace Encore: Not Fade Away
Tunes For your listening enjoyment, audience recordings of Monday’s skull-dominating Wharf Rat encore, Tuesday’s Revolution, and Death Don’t Have No Mercy. Torrents for the Nokia run are up at etree.org in flac format, but if you’d rather grab mp3s, you can download 10/31 (312 MB), 11/5 (247 MB), and 11/6 (229 MB) while the bandwidth lasts.
YouTube has a pro-shot clip from the 2005 Jammys, when Ryan first came out as a Deadhead, also with Wharf Rat. If you squint, you can spot me in the audience. Carefully, this clip is brutally cut at the ten minute mark — and Ryan’s not wearing any green knit hats, either.
From the author of the historical thriller Kino, a “fast, complex, exhilarating roadster ride through history and time” (Frederick Barthelme) comes a gripping psychedelic mystery steeped in sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll.
When legendary improvisational rock band Phish returns to the stage after a five-year breakup, longtime fan and hardboiled hippie sleuth Quentin Pfeiffer has to be there — even though he is older, wiser, and the father of an adorable baby daughter now.
But not everything is sunshine and rainbows in the freewheeling circus surrounding the band’s summer tour: after the millionaire skipper of a drug-drenched luxury yacht goes missing, Q and his crew are drawn into a dangerous intrigue of dreadlocked dames, shady tape collectors, and spun-out wookies chasing after the long-lost recording of a mysterious late-night jam.
Inspired by Raymond Chandler and set during a series of concerts at Long Island’s Jones Beach amphitheater, The Ashakiran Tapetakes readers deep into the spiraling ecstasy of Phish’s epic shows and the seductive underworld of the obsessive fans following them.
Praise for Kino:
“Kino is an intoxicating Euro-brew, written with enormous skill and dedication.” – Frederick Barthelme
“A debut of great intellectual force.” – Teddy Wayne
“A delirious melange of conspiracy, magic, sex, history, bad behavior, and cinema, Kino is a stellar entertainment, and Jurgen Fauth is a writer of rare, sinister imagination.” – Owen King