SHARING THE SHOWS
tooSeven shows in seven days. Most civilians (non-showgoers) I told about my five-night WSP run, accompanied by two Phish shows as bookends, looked at me as if I was crazy (they’re completely justified there). Most of the other showgoers gave me some version of a thumbs up.
By day 7, though, I was drained, but reinvigorated by a different band and a different venue from the Beacon. After a day exploring the laid-back beachscape of Brighton Beach, I napped in my Airbnb and headed down to 34th Street to grab my last slices of NY pizza before my departure. From there, I got onto a Long Island Railroad train to get to Jones Beach. I was hoping to see a bunch of Phishheads engaged in some low-key partying on the way, a la this favorite video of mine, but it was mostly packed with commuters. I got an Uber to the venue (I had to direct the driver to where to drop me off, despite having only been to Jones Beach three times, the last of which was in 2008 to see Jethro Tull). But I found my way inside, and despite not being able to hook up with Sean or Fred, we still communicated via text. I was blown away by “The Curtain” opener (Jesse’s favorite), and “Say it to Me S.A.N.T.O.S” always ignites my inner dancer (or outer one). The guy next to me, Chris, also went solo and we commented on the jams. We were shushed by an older dude behind us, which I understand (I tend to get annoyed by people who spend the whole show talking). So we did. The highlight of the first set for me was the jam that accompanied the “Bathtub Gin/Maze” flow, and I can’t not play air piano during “The Squirming Coil.” Set Two was a scorcher. I saw “Leaves” for the first time live, which gave me a skingasm, as it did many times when I played Sigma Oasis on repeat for a few weeks during the beginning of the pandemic. “Everything’s Right” always sets my grooving gears in motion, as do the Picture of Nectar classics, “The Mango Song” and “Chalkdust Torture.” The real adventure happened after the show. I took my inspiration from Pete and inched my way out during the second-set closer, “Julius” so I could get to the Uber pick-up spot before the traffic starting getting really heavy. It turns out the joke was on me – hard. My Uber driver cancelled on me, and the Uber and Lyft apps kept having trouble finding drivers (a shortage on Long Island, I suppose, and many drivers just don’t want to deal with the hassle, despite a price surge and the ability to make good money). While waiting on a second driver, a Lyft, a dude asked me and the other potential passengers, “Anybody going to the Wantagh train station?” I said, “Yeah.” He introduced himself as John and offered to split the fare. Despite my anxiety riding high, I was happy about that, until my Lyft cancelled (although later, I did get a $5 credit for not being able to find a ride, and, in a display of my own schadenfreude, I’ve heard the drivers do get charged when they cancel their own rides unless the passenger refuses to wear a mask). From that point, he and I hustled after cabs while my app waited to find other drivers. Here’s a quick rundown: Driver #1 wanted to charge us $150 each to get us to the train station, about a 15-minute drive away. F ___k no. Driver #2 was charging a more reasonable $60, but could only take cash. Tip: if you’re driving a livery cab, try Venmo or CashApp or get a damn credit card swiper! You’ll make more money that way! It’s 2022; less and less people are carrying cash. The third time was a charm. John was able to negotiate the driver from $70 (I think) to $60, and this driver had Venmo. He was also a native Virginian. We got to the station at 12:14, three minutes before the train back to Manhattan was scheduled to arrive. One of the nice things about these shows is you never know who you’ll meet. One of the reasons I love public transportation is that it’s an additional opportunity to meet cool folks. John and I swapped stories about the shows we’d been to and were planning on, and a drunk guy nearby was going on about Gene Wilder and Richard Pryor. He also informed us there’s a Rodney Dangerfield memorial in Kew Gardens (note to self: check it out next time in NY). John and I parted ways at Penn Station, and I caught a late-night subway to my Airbnb, where once again, I was out the moment my hit the pillow. Seven shows in seven days was a phenomenal (if draining) experience, and I’d do it again. And I love doing them solo because, for me, I have more flexibility in terms of experience. And a huge congrats to my friend Jaclyn (6/17/22), who did her first solo show and credited to the outings to Uncle John Band’s I organized. As part of my work in Singles Studies, I always try to inspire others to be comfortable doing things solo, and hearing that makes all my labor worth it. That being said, I’m ready for a two-day nap with Chester. Besides, I have another show planned for Jerry’s birthday. Gotta gather that energy. Stay frosty, folks!
0 Comments
So I’ve been out and about in the Big Apple and have some down time now, so I’m playing catch-up with my posts for the last two nights of the Panic Run. On Sunday, I met up with my friend Laura on the Lower East Side for a free swimming session in a public pool, which was definitely an oasis in this heat wave (I could practically hear the angels singing). That evening, I met up with my brother, Jeremy, for dinner in Little Italy, where I indulged in some fried mozzarella and penne vodka (“Fugayzi! Fugahzi!” goes to Drew), and I couldn’t resist snapping this very New York picture: I met up with Ken before the show, and talked to a couple of cool people named Curtis and Barbara. The crowd was sparse (never miss a Sunday show, people!) It was a pretty standard setlist, but I always get a good skingasm during “Bear’s Gone Fishin” and “Red Hot Mama,” both of which I heard for the first time on 4/30/16 when Mark, Maggie, and I headed down to Raleigh, NC to see them. I had been converted into a Spreadhead by Mark two months earlier when I saw them in Richmond’s Altria Theater. On Monday, I met up with some of my DC friends, who had made a trip up to New York for our friend Mickey’s birthday. After downing a Ferrara’s chocolate cannoli for breakfast in Little Italy and working it off by walking across the Williamsburg Bridge, I convened with them at Peter Luger’s Steakhouse in Brooklyn. We had some good conversation, even if I did have to split off to catch a power nap before Show #6. I met up with Ken at Viand Café, where I enjoyed a classic New York diner burger, fries, and milkshake. Ken called a bunch of the songs they hadn’t played it, and I predicted it would be a rager. We met up with our friend Mike outside the venue and talked for a bit about the setlists, predictions, and upcoming shows. It turns out Ken and I were both right. He had predicted “Chilly Water,” “Blackout Blues,” “Disco” (though I was sad we didn’t get “Diner”), “Hatfield,” “Conrad the Caterpillar,” and “Surprise Valley.” I was additionally stoked to hear more of my tops, such as “Saint Ex,” This Part of Town,” “Postcard,” “Airplane,” and an epic “Tie Your Shoes.”
The real treat for me was the five-song encore. I had never listened to Col. Bruce Hampton, but “Basically Frightened” was fun, nicely jazzy. “Mountain Jam” was a nice surprise, a tribute to the Allman Brothers, who I used to see every March at this venue. “End of the Show” felt like just that, but then a SWEET surprise came in the form of Black Sabbath’s “Fairies Wear Boots,” which I’d never seen the boys perform live. A “Heroes” bookend closed the 40-minute encore. While I had been dragging the last couple of days, this show perked me back up. And I was conked out within seconds of hitting my pillow. All in all, I’m glad I did the run. No regrets. I didn’t blog about Friday night’s show because I did a volunteer commitment that I’m choosing to keep private (if you really want to know about it, you can message me privately).
I grew up outside of New York City and worked in Manhattan in my 20s, but I never really fully immersed in the Big Apple as a tourist. So I’ve spent the couple of days pretending I live here, riding the subways. I bopped around the Lower East Side Friday; Saturday was Coney Island of Warriors fame. I came out to play for sure. The heat did too, and it beat the everliving crap out of me. I was dragging as I headed out to the show, but I was determined to make it. The shows have been starting approximately twenty minutes after the scheduled time, so I got to the venue at 8 and was met by a long line. Fortunately, it moved quickly, but I had to rush to get my much-needed water. The lights went off at the exact moment I reached my seat, which was awesome. “Pigeons” opened the show. Every time I’ve seen groups of them congregating in spaces here, I think of that song. I’ve pasted the setlist here. I dragged during most of the set, but when you’ve hit a bunch of shows in a row and braved the heat on the beach, you really don’t have to rock superhard every night. That being said, I gave it my all during “Junior,” “Glory” (which always gives me a skingasm), and a true surprise, the Grateful Dead’s deep cut, “Cream Puff War.” During setbreak, I chatted with Ken, and met some new friends, Sean from Long Island and Mike from Mahopac. Those interactions revived me for Set 2. “Flicker” is another skingasm-inducing tune, and the “Dear Prudence” was another nice Beatles-inspired surprise. The highlight for me, though, came at the end with “The Waker,” which also closed out 6/30/19 at Red Rocks and seems to be a favorite with fans, probably because the boys play it so rarely. Stay cool, everyone! Sorry for the lack of pics; as I type, my phone is at the other end of the Airbnb, and I just don’t feel like getting up to send them over. Pics to come on future posts. Those people on my Facebook page know that I have this running gag where I make lame jokes and then laugh at them for extended periods of time (10 minutes, usually). It all started in December 2017, during a particularly hectic finals week during my time as a professor at Hampton University. Students would be panicking about exams, and I joked that there was “widespread panic” on campus. I have a new though. The best way to prevent widespread panic is to LISTEN to Widespread Panic (WSP, or WSMFP). And to see them. Hahhahahahhaah…hahahahhahahhah…eh?
The boys were originally supposed to play a five-show Beacon Theatre run last September, but the Delta Variant ruined that. They postponed it to January; I had a 3-day weekend for MLK, so I decided to purchase Saturday and Sunday night (never miss a Sunday show). Omicron ruined THAT, so they postponed to July. I’m off during the summer, so why wouldn’t I go to all five shows? I arrived in the Big Apple at about 3, and after unpacking and napping in my Airbnb, I bopped around the Upper West Side (UWS) and found a Thai restaurant. After this, a nice walk in Central Park, where I happened upon some pigeons (“Pigeons” is a WSP song). Once inside, I got to the balcony and chatted with a pair of dudes, Mark and Lou, who had ventured up from Knoxville. “I have no responsibilities other than a job so I can do this,” Mark said. I hear you, brother. The childfree life is the one for me. That’s what I said to my friend Mark who ribbed me gently about me taking time off from my administrative responsibilities in a Facebook group I’m devoted to. But, to put it simply, vacations are good. After an easy Amtrak ride up to Philadelphia and a nap, I took the time to indulge in the requisite Philly cheesesteak at Cleaver’s, recommended by my host (which I like to call “Bypass in a Box”). I tried to take SEPTA’s Trolley Line out to the Mann, but it was conveniently shut down for a few weeks. I then remembered hearing about a Loop Bus that went from downtown Philly to the Mann Center, so I headed over to Rittenhouse Square. I had trouble locating it, but was informed by a pair of friends named Jesse and Jaime that I was at the right spot. I can’t recommend the Loop enough to go to the Mann. For only $2.50 (exact change only, as per urban public transportation), it’s a nice 45-minute ride out, and it’s a nice way to meet folks. I had a nice conversation with my seatmates about what we’d hope they’d play that night. Upon arrival, I thought back to that two-show run I attended back in 2016 with Drew/Brometheus, Scott, Ashley, and Chelsea. It seems like such a ways away now. But after filling my water bottle at one of the stations (much appreciated in this motherf*&ing heat wave), I met up with Pete at our seats, where he showed me a couple of the mist fans set up throughout the venue. Another G-dsend. Running into Fred (10/20/18) was a nice surprise as well. Pete also led me to some spots where I could get could shots, which I bestow upon you here. The band started with one of my favorites, a funkified “Steam,” followed by “Runaway Jim,” another top five tune. The wistful “Tela” is a rarity, and the jam that accompanied “Kill Devil Falls” ignited my spirit. “Theme from the Bottom” is always a nice one, during which I fist-bumped at “Keep what’s important, and know who’s your friend.” “Birds of a Feather” was next, which was the song that pushed me into Phishdom.
Anecdote: I may have written this before, but back in the 1990s, I was the DJ for my fraternity’s parties, and a group of Phishhead brothers who had pledged before me (Keith, Travis, Sloz, Al) used their rank to get me to play songs off Story of the Ghost. It wasn’t long until I got the album, joined their ranks, and it was all downhill from there. I sat down during the a capella tune “I Didn’t Know”, but stood back up to see Fish vacuuming in his trademark dress. A rockin’ “Funky Bitch” was next, and “Split Open and Melt” got deep and psychedelic to close the set. During setbreak, Pete and I cooled off as we walked above the lawn (our seats were in a sauna). I tried to get single dollar bills from the bus, but in post-COVID, none of the vendors were taking cash. Fortunately, Pete was able to help (know who’s your friend). The second set was jam-heavy. I started with “AC/DC Bag” followed by “Soul Planet”. From there, they started the opening chords of “Simple” (Bruce’s fav) in an F-sharp key with a nice transition to F. “Light” (another top song) was next, and then the highlight came: an intense “Party Time” jam. The boys slowed the tempo with “Lonely Trip,” the melody of which had me in a reflective state, thinking of the past eleven years I’ve been sober and have been able to enjoy life and these shows in ways I never could when I was drinking. It hasn’t been a lonely trip, that’s for sure. A nice “David Bowie” jam closed the set. Pete and I found a spot closer to the exit so we could beat foot traffic out. We found the beautiful spot not far from the pavilion that you saw at the top. “Waste” (another fav) opened the Encore, followed by the Rolling Stones’s “Loving Cup.” After Pete and I parted ways, I found the bus waiting, and there was already a boisterous group of people chatting manically about the show’s highlights. I sat next to a cool guy named Adam, a high school math teacher from Boston who’s doing the whole tour (sans Atlantic City and Bethel), where we compared show notes and talked education. It was a ten-minute walk from Rittenhouse Square to my Airbnb, where I winded down with some Netflix and snacks. It was too hot this morning to walk around Philly in the limited time I had before my Amtrak took off, but I was stoked to see I was right next to Suprema Coffee, a cool shop with fresh roasted coffee and giant pastries, a perfect way to recuperate when you have another train trip and another show. Vacations are good. Imagine a bunch of teenagers playing baseball on a nice spring day in a high school gym class. Now imagine a ragtag group of other teenagers walking around a track just so they can get credit for participating. I fell into the latter category, which is where I learned about the Circle Jerks. During my junior year of high school, my friend Jason Parks and I would walk around the track during Physical Education, surreptitiously smoking cigarettes and talking about music. On one of those days, he gave me a tape of the Circle Jerks’s Group Sex album. I’m pretty sure I played those twenty-something minutes on repeat over the next week. I never got that much into punk, but when I heard this group was playing in DC, a landmark of punk history, I figured, why not? This particular show had been postponed three times over a period of two years due to the pandemic; it was supposed to celebrate the 40th anniversary of Group Sex, released in 1980. I was supposed to go in April, but their singer, Keith Morris, got COVID. Better to stay healthy, and I’m glad he’s better. At any rate, I got off the Metro at about 7:30 and was greeted by a long line outside of the Black Cat. While on line, I talked with an interesting young aspiring chef named Sam, and we talked about the types of specialty restaurants and bakeries in DC, as well as interesting ways to cook things (see my Bachelor Cooking blog for stuff I do). Once in, I had to get some pictures. The Black Cat is a historic DC venue, mentioned several times in the book Dance of Days, a comprehensive read about the history of punk in DC, recommended by good friend Jason (different guy). My favorite picture is the men’s room door labeled “Urinals.” At around 8:45, the opening band, Negative Approach, went on. I wasn’t impressed. I don’t mind when screaming is the singer’s MO, but after a while, all the songs began to sound the same. Much more impressive was the second band, 7 Seconds, which had an upbeat rhythm, and the lead singer resembled the actor Harry Dean Stanton.
Finally, the main act came on, and Morris told us the story of this performance’s two-year delay. He then had us greet the bassist, Zander Schloss, and informed us he wouldn’t be singing “Feeling 7-Up.” This is a reference from that wacky cult comedy, Repo Man, and there’s a hilarious scene where he plays an 80s nerd who annoys our protagonist by singing that song. I started cracking up, and had the song in my head the whole home. Of course, I ended up singing it in my baby voice to Chester. I did borrow the film from the library and plan to watch it tonight as well. The band started with “Deny Everything,” and transitioned to “I Just Want Some Snack.” They also played “Beverly Hills,” and “Behind the Door” off Group Sex. I’m not as familiar with Wild in the Streets, released two years later, but Morris stated this would also be the 40th anniversary tour of that album as well. They played “Wild in the Streets” and “Moral Majority.” They also busted out “Coup d’Etat,” which I associated with this scene from Repo Man. I had to bust out of the venue early to catch Metro, as did quite a few other people. As a public transportation advocate and denizen, I do wish these clubs would keep Metro hours (however crappy they may be) in mind when they book bands; most of the people at the show are imbibing, and do they really want to encourage drunk driving? Additionally, parking and Ubers are priced through the roof here, and people have to spend money on those they could easily spend at the club. But that’s just my rant, which I’ll turn into an email to them (not that I expect it to do anything, but punk rock is about social action). The ride home was interesting; some drunk derelict kept slamming on one of the subway car’s door, competing with two little kids who kept opening it from the other side trying to goad him. I winded down with some protein-based snacks (an Atkins bar, tuna, and a lot of cheese) and an episode of Married with Children. As much as I love the jam bands, it’s nice to vary my genres once in a while. And I’m hoping for more opportunities to do so. I don’t typically get political on here, but it was nice seeing the boys stick up for women’s rights and the right to choose how you live your life. I can’t write this blog without at least mentioning the travesty that occurred on June 24, the overturning of the historic Roe v. Wade, which had been around my entire life. In preparing for this show, I listened to the one Dead & Company played at Chicago’s Wrigley Field that night, during which they played songs that celebrated women such as “Man Smart, Woman Smarter” (which is a true song because it’s based on science), “Bertha,” “Brown-Eyed Women,” “Althea,” and “Stella Blue.” I’m not supernuts about D & C, but I was getting nostalgic to see my Hampton Roads show crew, and as I’ve been reclaiming my life this year by getting to shows, this had to be part of what I’m deeming the Summer of Craig. It had been three weeks since my last show, at which point I start to jones a bit. I got back to DC last week, and was enthralled to have my own space again. Since driving in the DMV during rush hour traffic is only slightly preferable to getting drilled by the dentist and I’m a city boy now, I did an “urban” thing ordered a ticket from Rally Bus, a crowdpowered service whereby if a certain number of people sign up for a bus ride to the show, that bus will get you there and back. And if you wanna indulge in libations, they’ll let you do that too. Most of the folks on the bus were 20somethings, and they took the opportunity to pregame. I heard interesting talk about all the shows people had been to, and one kid gasped upon hearing I was going to all five nights of Widespread Panic in New York. “That’s a lot! I think I’d be dead after three nights!” I was amused to hear a spry 20something say that, it shows my stamina is just, well, awesome. This exchange was preferable to having to negotiate my way through the commuter traffic, which was present in spades. It was a crawl to the show once we exited the highway, but we made it! There was some drama about the driver wanting to leave at 10:45 (he was quite insistent), but apparently, a few people convinced him to leave 45 minutes after the show (which, to be fair, was advertised on the site). Essentially, this night was meant to be a reunion with my Hampton Roads peeps. Once in the show, I had Maggie, Dan, Mark, and Sheila waiting for me on the lawn, which was a great welcome and homecoming. We did the usual catching up before Mark and Sheila left for the royal seats known as the Pavilion, which Dan, Maggie, and I stayed up on the lawn with the other commoners. Lydia and Jonna (both of whom I met for the first time after being friends on Facebook for years) would join us later on with their people. As far as my current people are concerned, I bumped into John, whom I’ve hung with at DC shows, during setbreak on the way to the bathroom. It took me a second to recognize him, as I’ve only seen him in the darkly lit indoor venues, but it was still nice to see him. “Man Smart, Woman Smarter” opened the first set, during which the “Save Our Rights” sign flashed. A DC-area show would naturally bring some politically charged tunes. So of course we got “Throwing Stones.” I was hoping for some “U.S. Blues” but hey, a show’s a show. I’ve pasted the setlist here. For me, the highlights were “New Speedway Boogie” and “Terrapin Station,” and I even sang into my pen during “China Doll.” Still, it was nice getting together with my suburban crew. Maggie, Dan, Sheila, Mark, Jonna, Lydia, we’ll make it happen again. Johnny Mac, Drew, Gary, sorry I missed you. We’ll make it happen eventually.
|
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
April 2024
Categories |