Mmm. Recycled content.

However, the recent attendance of some friends at a Phish show made me poke through my shell account looking for this, which I wrote shortly after my first Phish show, two and a half years ago.

Enjoy.

~~~~~

I knew it was going to be a good evening, because as we drove out East Capitol, the sunlight turned golden, a rarity at this time of year.

Well, if you had told me even a month ago that I'd be bouncing up and down singing along to "Rocky Top" while completely sober, I'd have said "feh." But if anybody had 12.28.97 as the date when Amanda loosened up--and I know there had to have been a pool on that one--collect your winnings.

So, I have seen Phish.

I have partaken of a Kind Veggie Quesadilla. "Hey, what's in that?" "Like, Cheese, Broccoli and Salsa, man." I have debated with myself over buying a Made in Ecuador sweater. (The "Don't" side won because I was already wearing one and have another at home. The one at home itches.)

I have stared, wide-eyed and gape-mouthed, at nubile young things in patchwork granny dresses. I have been the only woman in a two-mile radius wearing lipstick. I have noticed that pillowcases still serve as blouses in some wardrobes.

I have decided to buy warmer gloves as soon as possible.

Overall, I wasn't that impressed with the parking lot scene, which I hear tell was diminished by cops of various kinds. The location cops wore yellow and red jackets, and were much in evidence as they travelled the rows in packs looking for vendors. It would have been much better, or at least more interesting, if it hadn't been 30 degrees.

I determined once and for all that the star I've been wishing on is not a star at all. It's Venus. (I kind of knew that already.) I polled the crowd, which seemed to think that meant my wish counted for double.

Optimistic bunch. I think that was the coolest thing about the whole evening: almost everybody looked like a fresh-faced kid, full of ideals and possibilities.

I'd never been patted down before entering a concert venue before. I guess that goes to show how long it's been since I went to a show of any size. The woman thought my hair clip was sunglasses. I'm not sure what difference it was supposed to make.

I was skeptical, I mean, I'd never seen a jam band. I used to have a Dave Matthews Band CD, but that's as close as I'd ever come. I had never heard a Phish song; have heard a few Dead songs, I think. But I went in with an open mind.

Our seats were great, right behind the tapers and the soundboard. ZZ knew all the sound guys names, it was kind of funny.

After a bit, the music started. During the first song I was still a little bit detatched, watching the crowd swaying, hopping up and down in these orderly rows, like a room full of bobbing head dolls. The colored lights playing on the smoke looked like water. It was definitely fun to watch. One thing was clear, though: Phish is a really tight band. By the end of the first song, I was officially enjoying myself.

And then they broke into "Cities." It's one of my favorite Talking Heads song. The original is hard driven and forceful, a little edgy because of David Byrne's vocal. Phish kind of turned it inside out with a very straight forceful vocal and a syncopated reggae-tinged beat that was just the drums in the last minute or so.

It got me.

I was a little freaked out.

There's no way I'm the first person to say this, but the jams are kind of like righteously great sex in that nobody has to say anything, you don't know exactly where you're going or what you're going to do next, and much of the appeal is that absolutely anything can happen.

At one point during the second set, the piano and guitar were jamming alone. The people around me were hearing quotes from Dead songs, and "Roundabout." I heard Rimsky-Korsakov's Scherazade. It was just gorgeous.

The thing about Phish that I don't see in a lot of other bands is that they play with great affection: for the songs, for the fans, and for each other as musicians. The set seemed to be very much of the moment. I liked that.

It's hard to describe how I felt, because I wasn't thinking about my emotional reaction as much as my physical-sensory reaction. That in itself got me thinking about the difference between emotion and sensation... but that's another story.

The bottom line is that I was able to let go of all my stress and have a really good time sensing the music. I've been to lots of shows, but the lighters at the end were never as moving as Sunday night at what will always be the Capital Centre to me. I thought of stars in a dark summer sky. There was cheering and screaming and thunderous applause. The crowd made a joyful noise and my whole self opened up to take it all in.

I don't remember the last time I felt so unfettered.

So, if you enjoy music, or claim to enjoy music, go see Phish.

before - after