It Was Mike’s Fault, I Tell You! All Mike’s Fault!
It was 25 years ago, give or take a day, when it happened. I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know what would happen as a result. Really. It was all Mike’s fault.
Let me explain. I am a child of the ’60s and saw Hendrix and Zep. My college years in the early ’70s were spent mostly at the two student radio stations. First saw Zappa in 1972. Parliament-Funkadelic in 1976. Grateful Dead in 1977. Those were my Big Three. I owned a small record store for four years. Went to some concerts throughout the ’70s and into the ’80s, although not as many. And even fewer in the early ’90s.
But it was 25 years ago, just about. It was a Sunday afternoon, and I had stopped at Sound Exchange, my favorite local album and CD shop in Tampa (at that time it was on Livingston). There was nobody in the store except for Mike, one of the employees. He would eventually open his own store.
Mike and I had talked often, so he had a pretty good idea of my tastes. That day, that oh-so-fateful day, Mike walked up to me with two CDs in his hand.
“You need these,” he said.
Now I trusted his judgment implicitly, and I examined both covers carefully, nodded, and said something clever like “OK.”
He handed me a 1990 album titled Lawn Boy from a band I’d never heard of called Phish.
And he handed me an album new that month by another band I’d never heard of: Widespread Panic. It was Everyday.
And my life was never the same again. Ever. After absorbing the albums, I was crushed to discover that both bands had just played The Ritz Theatre in Ybor City (Tampa), Panic on 01/16/93 and Phish 02/26/93.
As I listened more and more, I knew that the light was being rekindled within. I loved “Reba,” especially Trey’s magnificent solo, and to this day “Split Open and Melt” is my number one Phish jam. I was even more taken with “Pleas,” the beautiful mandolin and gentle nature of “Pickin’ Up the Pieces,” and the great story-telling in “Hatfield” and “Papa’s Home.”
And “Diner.” Oh, “Diner!” My son, Spencer, who was 8, and I would crank that baby up and air guitar like champs.
Fortunately, both bands were touring their asses off that year (and a lot of other years), so both returned to The Ritz that summer, Phish on 08/02/93 and Panic 09/12/93.
I didn’t understand the Doors at 9, show at 10 or later thing, so when I arrived at the Phish show, I thought nobody was going to show, but the crowd packed in fairly well by showtime. And I was totally mesmerized: mini-trampolines, beach balls, a cappella vocals, Argent’s “Hold Your Head Up,” and an atmosphere I’d never experienced.
[PHISH 08/02/93 ONE: Chalk Dust Torture, Guelah Papyrus, Poor Heart, Brother, The Oh Kee Pa Ceremony > Suzy Greenberg, All Things Reconsidered, Bathtub Gin > Makisupa Policeman > My Mind’s Got a Mind of its Own > Dog Log > La Grange; TWO: Also Sprach Zarathustra > Mike’s Song > Sparks > The Ballad of Curtis Loew > Rift, The Squirming Coil, Weekapaug Groove > Hold Your Head Up > Bike > Hold Your Head Up, Run Like an Antelope; E: Sleeping Monkey, Amazing Grace]
And then it was Widespread Panic’s turn, and it was impossible not to key on David Schools’ hair flowing in the fan breeze and Mikey Houser, standing, simply destroying my conception of what a guitar player could do. “Diner” was awesome, the two highlights for me were “Travelin’ Light” and “Junior.” Oh, and “Low Spark” to close.
[WSMFP 09/12/93 ONE: Wondering > Pigeons > Little Kin, Just Kissed My Baby, Diner, Stop-Go, Jack, Who Do You Belong To?, Walkin’ (For Your Love); TWO: Porch Song, Hatfield, Travelin’ Light, Pilgrims > Can’t Get High > Papa’s Home > Drums > Papa’s Home, Junior, Chilly Water; E: Ain’t Life Grand, Low Spark Of High Heeled Boys]
The rest, as they say, is history.
It’s all your fault, Mike. Entirely your fault.
I sure hope I get to say thanks some day.
(Also, thanks for turning me on to Squat — another superb Athens band.)