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Leftover Phish

Band talks reunion, politics, hot dogs and the endless jam

DAVID FRICKEPosted Feb 10, 2003 12:00 AM

Phish interviews are a lot like the band's shows: real long and full of intriguing digressions. For the group's first Rolling Stone cover story, guitarist Trey Anastasio, keyboard player Page McConnell, bass guitarist Mike Gordon and drummer Jon Fishman individually spoke at great length about Phish's history, breakup and reunion album, Round Room; their stage antics, jamming philosophies and plans for the second phase of their career. What follows are previously unpublished excerpts from those conversations -- a taste of the outtakes from nearly ten hours of interviews.

TREY ANASTASIO
On not screwing up and the giant hot dog ride at Boston Garden, New Year's Eve, 1994

The hot dog started with a conversation about how we could get closer to the guy with the worst seat in the house -- whoever showed up at the venue, looked at their ticket and went, "Ugh, this seat sucks." So the idea is, we'll fly out there to this guy. How are we going to do that? We came up with the hot dog. And we did it. We went right up to this guy and waved to him: "Hey, man!"

There is definitely that weight of expectations now, and trying to do what the audience has always expected. It can get to be too much. After all the work that went into Phish becoming what it is, I didn't want it to be a weight on my shoulders that would drag me down. It was starting to feel a lot like that.

Now I just feel lucky, very lucky, for a lot of reasons -- that everybody's still healthy and together. I had a funny experience with Graham Nash. We went to see Crosby Stills Nash and Young at the end of February 2000. That was a pretty crazy time for us. Everybody was out running around, being rock stars. It was getting pretty nuts. So we went to see CSNY. We went in a limo, went backstage with all these people hanging around. It's a big scene. David Crosby comes up and says, "Phish, I heard about you guys." Then Graham Nash comes over and goes, "You're in Phish, right?" I say, "Yeah." He gets right up to me and says, "Congratulations on your success. I heard about you guys. You're in a great position right now." And he's getting closer and closer to me. And as he's talking to me, he reached out with his hand and grabbed my shirt, pulled my face right up to his, and goes, "Don't fuck it up!" Pushed me backwards and walked away. I was just laughing so hard.

But then I thought about it -- "Man, I'm gonna take that to heart." You think about everything that he's seen. My God [laughs]. "Don't fuck it up."

So that's how I feel now. I'm really glad that I haven't fucked it up.

MIKE GORDON
On filmmaking and songwriting

Music is my deepest passion, unquestionably. I decided that, from graduating college [where Gordon majored in filmmaking] to turning thirty, that I would really concentrate on music - and after that, open it up a little bit, to exploring filmmaking again.

Trey is such a prolific songwriter, and always has been. There is so much creative energy in the band. A lot of my favorite experiences were these real right-brain jams: being on stage, these peak experiences. But I have this part of my personality that needs to use the left side of my brain, which I can do with filmmaking, because nobody around me was doing it.

I spent 5,000 hours working on one of my films, Outside Out. I edited it myself, over a four-and-a-half year period. I actually wrote some music for it. And it was about music. So I wasn't forgetting music. And I was playing with Phish and really loving it, for those four years. But I think I could have written more songs and contributed more in other ways.

Trey has gone through phases when he was worried about that. But I love working on his songs. I don't have to be the writer and leader. It's also hard because I'm pretty shy. And I haven't written enough songs to know how to bring them to the band and be able to see them through.

But this year was really good for me. I finished Riding Low [Gordon's movie about Gov't Mule] at the end of last year. And I was tired of filming music rather than playing it. I was living in New York. I got myself an office in the Woolworth Building, and I went in everyday and wrote a song -- a song a day.

It was my most prolific time ever. I played Trey a couple of demos when I was in Boston -- I sat in with his band at Great Woods for the encore -- and then we got together, after the hiatus, and everyone had stuff to play. But I had more stuff than I've ever had. By the time we got to band practice, I'd made discs for everyone that had twenty-two songs. We worked out pretty good versions of about eight of them, which is more songs than I'd ever brought to the table.

"Mock Song" [on Round Room] was really a mock song. I was just setting up the gear in my studio. I hired an engineer to come in and teach me some things about miking drums and running things. We needed a song, and since we didn't have a real one, we put together a mock one. And people liked it.

The band ended up recording five of the songs I brought to the sessions and put two of them on the album. I haven't had two songs on a Phish album in ten years. So that's not too bad.

PAGE McCONNELL
On weirdness and pushing forty

Everything about Phish -- it's all one big, giant inside joke [laughs], although I would say, on the new album, there's a lot more emotion. At least a little bit more -- we don't want too much emotion in there [laughs]. But we are kind of like that -- goofy, dorky, silly on certain levels. We try not to take ourselves too seriously. At the same time, we are very serious about so much of what we do. We're very focused and dedicated.

There are times, with Trey's lyrics, where I have not been completely attached to, or know exactly, what I'm singing. Sometimes, it's more like these are just words that sound good coming out. They have a musicality unto themselves, aside from whatever meaning Trey or Tom [Marshall, Anastasio's co-writer] put to them. Other times, I'll attach my own meaning to things.

"Gamehenge" was an epic that started thirteen, fourteen years ago. We were much younger, and it was a joke. Things were a lot funnier then [smiles]. I was never into Dungeons and Dragons -- none of us were -- but it was a play on that whole thing. It was also a takeoff on Stonehenge -- the Spinal Tap joke -- and some of the Genesis-Yes-type lyrics, the progressive rock that was such an influence on us. Those were not necessarily the greatest lyrics ever written, but the fantasy-wordplay of those bands became such a big part of our career.

But when we got to the Rift album, in 1994, we had the song, "Fast Enough for You." We were like, "Okay, we're actually going to do a song that carries some emotional weight and seriousness. It's about two people, a relationship." I remember that being a big deal -- "Can we pull this off? Can we sing something like this?" It was the first one we did like that. We were on our fourth album, and we finally had a serious song on there. It was a sign forward.

Trey was very nervous when he brought it in. It has to be difficult to bring songs to us anyway. But I remember that one specifically: "Now we're going to try and sing a song that is just a pretty song with some nice words about a relationship."

I love songs. And I think some of the greatest songs we've ever written are on this new album. I tend to like songs with nice melodies. "All of These Dreams" [on Round Room] is a good song with a great chorus, good harmonies and a simple chord progression. Over the years, there has been a dichotomy of, on one hand, the goofy side of us, and on the other, a more serious side trying to get out. We may even have been trapped by our reputation: how we were perceived, what we think the fans are expecting.

We've been looking at the song list for the new shows and going, "I really want to play 'Fast Enough for You.' But the other songs -- do I really want to play this or that?" I don't know. We used to have about 200 songs on the song list that we would play, that were in our repertoire. And I know there are least twenty that we're excited to go back and play.

Others will filter back in. But we're trying to look forward. Part of the breakup was the pressure of feeling, "I'm not twenty-four anymore. I'm pushing forty now." We want to play what feels like us.

JON FISHMAN
On politics and the future

I had a couple of different concepts of what I would do next, if Phish wasn't going to come back. I would have probably played in Pork Tornado and the Jazz Mandolin Project for a little while longer. Then I would have weaned myself off of being a live touring musician -- had it become more of a personally gratifying thing for myself, at home. And I would have run for governor. I'm dead serious. I would have gotten involved in the political process. I don't know anyone that bitches more than me about stuff going on.

I have this mental block -- I've never felt, "You can't do that." I've been like that my whole life. My mother was definitely like, "Go for it, kid, live for your dreams." My dad had the pragmatic thing: "It would be good to have something to fall back on." My mom was like, "Fall forward!" And they were both right. We don't talk about politics that much in the band. We all know what's going on. But I'm the one in the band . . . if it were up to me, we would have gotten more involved in politics. But I feel that I have been sufficiently argued out of that, with very convincing reasoning, by all three of them.

The four of us have done so well at letting Phish not be the result of any single person's agenda. What it has amounted to, the real vision there, is as purely as possible -- music for the sake of music. And I really do believe that things have to exist in the world that are just for their own sake, their own beauty. Everything doesn't have to be tied to what side of the fence you stand on -- although I have very strong opinions. My whole interview with you could be nothing but just ranting about that [laughs].

We don't know what's next. And that's the beauty of it. It is more of an open-ended commitment. It's different, but that's also what makes it good. The last two years of my life have added so much more meaning to what I'm able to apply to music. Becoming a dad is pretty huge; I'm in the longest relationship I've ever been in. All kinds of changes have happened for me. And all the material things that you can indulge in: they've all worn off. The only thing left is the music. And that's the reason you get into it in the first place.

I could fucking care less if everybody downloads our album off the Internet. We're not in a position to be screwed by that at all. We have the one thing the Internet can't touch -- live music. If you can actually go out and play your fucking instruments, you won't be replaced by the Internet. If you're a good live act and you put on a good show, people will buy a ticket to see your show.

For years, people were going "Oh, Phish don't sell a lot of albums." Maybe someday we'll have some hit single or hit album by accident. But at this point, it can't hurt us. Before, it would have done a lot more damage, because everyone is expecting the follow-up. And if it doesn't sell, you just disappear, and people think you're done. Then the Internet comes along. If selling records is your bread and butter, welcome to the land of the doomed.

I like being part of the minstrel class [laughs]: go out and earn my alms by putting my hat on the ground. If people think you're worthy, they'll pay for your music by coming to see you live. There are just some things you can't improve on.


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