The Phish tank was in a hazy thick fog before the show, the enthusiasm was stimulating, and the buzz was a feverish feeling combined with elation and thrill calling out for the school of Phish to gather. I have witnessed many shows from many genres but what I have witnessed this day was a feeding frenzy that I haven't seen in all my years of attending concerts or that I recorded in the five hundred plus SCUBA dives. The Phishing lines tangled up traffic lanes leaving the city to believe that the end of the world was only moments away. It was Woodstock in Syracuse brilliantly colored in a spectrum array of vivacious colors fluttering from flags, the Birkenstock sandals that were apparently fashionable in thirty degree weather as they are on a ninety degree foot sweating mud-puddle-skipping day of yore. Reflections of years gone by, of the deadhead clans, and of the seasons of love are long but over. It's still cool, man and the day was heavy, man. What I witnessed was the gathering of one mind for one cause with Phish at the epicenter of this twenty first century hippie universe. All this hit me when I stepped out from my conformist vehicle after my Michael Jackson's history funkadocious in car concert. After four hours, a raspy voice from singing, and some three thousand cows grazing on the pasture on my pilgrimage ride up North, I planted my Harley boots down on Syracuse pavement and took in a deep breath of Phish bated air. It was the Phish Phan's way of greeting me welcome while bidding adieu to any conscious way of thinking.
Everywhere you veered your eyes shined a bedazzled spectrum of rainbow stripes printed on long dresses and on so many tie dye suits you couldn't help to feel groovy. The smiling domino effect drenched Syracuse with free thinking Phishermen and Phisherwomen who spread their beauty in peace, shared their beers unconditionally, and who basked in their baking huddles with new found revelations under common displays of unleashed enjoyment. The lady's twirled their orbiting talents through acrobatic hula-hooping. I am sure Ms. Sticks would have lead this event proudly on the parking lot stage. i was shocked to know that it was only 1:00 PM and Phish wasn't going to be taking stage until 8:00 PM. Pre show parties filled out the schedule with regional music artists who displayed their talents on the street and at the official pre-show party at the Oncenter War Memorial Arena Complex. The transformation downtown simulated a floral parade of twenty-first century hippies shocking and awing the locals who congregated for their annual free Turkey drive. I was waiting for the bout to begin. In one corner the fifteen pound Turkey and in the other corner the hemp granola bar, but the arbitrator by mother nature kept order and peace allowing the free spirits to dance, hula-hoop, and to remain toasty in the late autumn chill (Toasty being the emphasis).
I met an amazing woman whose energy and passion for her work exudes her. The passionate Sandra Baker, VP of Sales & Marketing for the Oncenter received me with a great smile and a warm hug. "The Oncenter is dedicated to all the men and women who gave their lives and limbs to keeping our families and our country safe from harms way. It's a remarkable venue with a wonderful museum displaying some of our hometown heros who served in the unfortunate wars and conflicts we have witnessed as a nation. Our ability to memorialize our local Vets is something we are proud of and honor with great respect." Sandra shared insight with me to the history of the Oncenter Complex and welcomed me to take walk the glass enclosed memorial that also captured the attention of many Phish fans. Everyone seemed to be touched by the artifacts, the uniforms, the names listed on the glass windows, and respectfully walked with a serene calmness before entering the Phishing hole. It was here where I felt a sense of pride and a knot in the throat to see both doves and hawks uniting under one roof in the name of music.
The house lights blacked out and the venue fell into darkness swallowed up by the uproar of Phish fanatics making their presence clear. It's was time to put away the stress of yesterday and time to devour the jam band of our generation. Phish walked out into the blue and white lit stage like ghostly apparitions of men walking into Vermont mountain scene. The hysteria penetrated the through the skin piercing the heart. I gathered flash frames in my mind of the faces in the crowd expressing awe, of emotional meltdown, of acceptance, and mostly of true appreciation. The reception, just short of gaggle of screaming bobby girls in the Ed Sullivan theater welcoming the Beatles back to New York, thrust the crowd forward. They waves of fans jumped high in the air reaching out to the boys from the Green Mountain State, and like that, the amps quaked the cameras in my hands and we were off on a very long strange trip that even Jerry Garcia would be proud to say he grandfathered.
The lighting captured the feel of a star burst beaming through thick forests cascading the mass in emerald greens, rich blues, luscious reds and vibrant yellows. I was compelled to stop shooting and to absorb what was taking place right in front of me. I turned around to face the crowd and took the entire moment in. The lighting coursed through the arena much like a river refracting the sun. Trey Anastasio, Mike Gordon, Jon Fishman, and Page McConnell make up current day Phish. Four simply dressed men took their individual talents and blended their instruments into a bending musical sound welded together in flowing harmonies and breezy riffs. Phish took their place on stage, overtook and captured the minds of seven thousand plus adoring fans with a playlist set that had one beginning and no end in sight. "Rift", "Weekapaug Groove", "Stash", "Llama", and "Tweezer" were just a few selections that were mixed into the massive overload of music performed by what will be the longest running show off-Broadway. There are very few bands who can do what Phish has done by beating the odds as an American culture whose success was built mainly on their live performances rather then a concentration on creating new album material. Phish is now and will always be an institution to their liberal viewing audience and fans. These four free thinkers are going strong and face a long music journey ahead to play their innovative, improvisation, jam band music and have rightfully earned their place as heirs to the Grateful Dead throne. Phish has been swimming upstream for over twenty years now and I hope they will keep swimming because what they leave behind in their path is a stream of the finest music and a live performance unlike anything you have ever been a part of. All I can say at this point is, Phish on!
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