Arts & Entert ainment Coventry marks end of Phish

RICH MAGDA GUESTWRITER SKTCHMTB00@AOL COM

From Camden Waterfront Amphitheater, Phish guitarist Trey Anastasio threw a boomerang of feedback across the Delaware River towards Philadelphia. The stage lights dimmed to darkness. The band delivered sharp silence as the crowd echoed the return of the high-pitched cry with energy and anticipation.

The lazy cadence of “Wilson,” like the calm before a storm, cued thousands to chant the song’s title, “Wilson! Wilson!” The final Phish show in the Philadelphia area was underway.

One day earlier, Ryan Aten, a senior at York College of Pennsylvania, and Josh Klingerman, a senior at East Stroudsburg University, embarked on a journey from Bloomsburg, Pa. to Coventry, Vt. They left a day earlier than originally planned to avoid traffic. In Vermont, the band’s home state, the stage was still being set to host the finale of a virtual 20-year tour for Phish. The four-day festival, set on a 600-acre field in the Northeast Kingdom, was expected to draw 80,000 fans. Phish promised six sets of music, three on Saturday, August 14, and three on Sunday, August 15.

Packed in a two-door Honda Accord, Aten and Klingerman drove north with dark clouds grinding overhead.

For Aten, it would be his second Phish show. For Klingerman, it would be his first. It would be their first festival hosted by Phish, and the last for anyone.

“We beat the rush, and drove right into the place,” Aten said. “We were there early enough to be put in a holding lot. But we got stuck in there. The parking lot was full of mud. People were happy to be there, but they didn’t know what we were getting in to. With the rain and the mud, that’s how it started.”

Aten and Klingerman endured an eight hour wait in an onsite holding lot, passing a few hours with intermittent naps. They watched as Coventry staff members attempted to tow people into the venue with trucks and chains. Shortly after, Klingerman failed to maneuver the car through mud to a parking area. Klingerman and a staff member rigged chains to his car, and a truck pulled him back into the holding pit.

“We were stuck in a cow field with mud up to our ankles,” Klingerman said. “The tires were spinning, the car was fishtailing. People were cheering us on. My attempt not to get my shoes muddy was shot. Forget it. Those shoes belong to Coventry.”

Klingerman insisted to a staff member that he would only get stuck again. His persistence convinced the parking attendant to tow him to the parking area. Aten estimates that the favor saved them about three hours.

Once parked, the two made numerous trips from the car to the campground, moving gear to a muddy weekend plot. “It was very tough to set up with the rain falling like it was,” Aten said, “and I needed to sleep.” They fell asleep to rain drops tattering on the tent top.

Meanwhile, a fine mist fell softly onto the Camden crowd just as the final curtain would fall onto the Coventry crowd in three days. There would be more rain, too.

“You Enjoy Myself,” a fanfavorite song with an epic jam, picked up after a driving “Wilson.” As the structure of the song’s composition loosened to a jam, Anastasio and bassist Mike Gordon bounced on two small trampolines, as if to muse at the Philadelphia skyline over an ocean of fans rising in front of them. Turning in synchronization, Anastasio and Gordon riffed over the steady beat of keyboardist Page McConnell and drummer John Fishman. The fine mist that had been coating the Camden crowd for most of the night thickened to a drizzle. The first set pushed on with clean playing and experimental jams.

Aten and Klingerman awoke to thuds of heavier rain and cheers for Phish, whose Camden show was being broadcast live over Coventry’s onsite radio station, 92.1 FM, The Bunny

“I woke up to The Bunny, and the Camden show was on. It was the end of the first set. I hopped out of the tent and parked myself in front, had a beer, and listened,” Aten said. “The show sounded great. I kept imagining what the last two shows would be like.”

“At the set break of the Philly show, the DJs were talking about how amazing the first set was,” Klingerman said. “And about how Phish and Philly go hand-inhand.”

Back in Camden, Phish was ushered onto stage by cheers from a crowd illuminated by the glow of lighters in the thousands. The drizzle thinned to a mist.

The instrumental second set opener, “Piper,” was highlighted by a spectacular glow-stick war among fans. In the second set, the band mixed cover songs with classic originals that culminated with “Scents and Subtle Sounds,” a composed piece from Phish’s latest album, “Undermind.”

The mission was clear, and the end was near. Again the crowd patted pockets to find lighters that might inspire an encore grand enough to cap a show so fine. Anastasio led the band on stage. He was raised in Princeton, NJ, and has stated an attachment to the Philadelphia area. Flyers fans might recall when Phish played the “National Anthem,” before a 1997 playoff game and again versus the Buffalo Sabers on Dec. 1, 1997. When Phish plays the anthem, the Flyers are 0-1-1, according to Phish.net. The mood was bittersweet as the Camden crowd lifted the entire scene upon its cheers, awaiting the inevitable end.

Throughout the night, the music was intense and the sound shifted between funky rock and roll and ambient jams. Phish did not slow down the pace once, as if to avoid a quiet, intimate moment that might pull a drapery of emotion over the venue.

Acrossfire of feedback loops shot out over the crowd, the stage turned from black to red, and McConnell played the soft, familiar opening notes of “Lawnboy,” a mellow, refreshing song. The crowd sang along and swayed, avoiding obstacles that might take their eyes astray. McConnell took a bow, and the crowd embraced his performance not of the night, but of the last 20 years. This was the end.

Then, a flash of yellow, brighter than any lights shone the entire night. The opening notes of “Frankenstein,” an Edgar Winter song adopted by Phish, and familiar to pop culture as a song in Buick commercials. Intensity soared, lights flashed, and Phish had thousands of fans once again dancing on its lawn.

The song pinnacled and came to an explosive finish. Anastasio thanked the crowd, and alerted fans headed to Coventry to wait a day because of heavy rain that had recently fallen. Stadium lights flickered, and then beamed as a satisfied, appreciative Camden crowd shuffled out.

Aten and Klingerman did not miss a moment of the Camden show’s second set, and they certainly did not miss the rain mentioned by Anastasio. Acanopy over their lot kept them dry, but the Coventry ground had absorbed all the water it could take. They slept well that night, settled and ready for the shows.

Friday brought more rain, and large farm trucks loaded to capacity with hay. Vermont farmers provided solid ground and cashed in, selling bails for $10 each. Klingerman bought two bails, and Aten helped him to fill a muddy mote that had formed around the tent.

They spent the afternoon under the canopy, absorbing what of the scene came their way. As it was Klingerman’s first Phish show, he was nervous about how people would accept him, but neighboring fans made him feel comfortable. Aman walked up to their lot and asked if he could have a beer. Klingerman obliged, and the man sat down to tell him and Aten about previous Phish festivals, like The Clifford Ball in 1996, The Great Went in ’97, Lemonwheel in ’98, and ITin 2003.

“True Phish fans know their stuff. They talk about versions of songs from specific shows, or about how it’s their hundredthsomething show,” he said. “I didn’t know what they’d say when I said it was my first, but they told me to enjoy it, and that I’d love it.”

Aten and Klingerman spent Friday night consuming copious amounts of Red Bull and vodka as cool rain poured down. They mingled with people from neighboring lots, sharing in the groove.

Listening to The Bunny, traffic reports confirmed rumors of a 15mile traffic jam on Interstate 91 North, the road to Coventry

“After we heard that, we spent the rest of the night talking about how many things could have gone wrong,” Klingerman said. “If we hadn’t left a day early, we would have been out there in traffic. We figured out that we spent about 50 hours in my car over the weekend as it was.”

Saturday began with eggs and bacon, and like Friday, with rain. Nearby Burlington was nearly 300 percent above normal rainfall for the month of August, according to a report by Phish manager John Paluska.

Aten and Klingerman spent the early part of Saturday afternoon in similar fashion to Friday, keeping dry as possible and in high spirits. Wind was blowing rain under the canopy when music came from the stage area.

“We were among the closest people to the stage. We were gearing up, getting ready, and then we heard the sound check coming over a grove of trees,” Aten said. “I remember being miserable in the mud and rain, waiting for two days for the real stuff, and it was about to begin.”

They joined the caravan to a natural amphitheatre where they inched toward the stage. Klingerman brought a light aluminum fishing chair that held bottled water, Gatorade, Red Bull, and six peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

“We pushed our way into the crowd and found our spot. We were up on a hill, about 50 yards from the stage,” Klingerman said.

On the muddy slope, they waited with 70,000 fans for Phish to begin. Among them, about ten feet away, was Danny DeVito.

“Danny was hilarious. He was there with younger people, maybe his son and friends,” Klingerman said. “Everyone was all, ‘Danny!’After that, he was part of the crowd. I saw Danny DeVito eat a gooball and give a thumbs-up to the guy who tossed it his way. He was hilarious.”

For more of this story go to www.theloquitur.com.

Gloria Estefan