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About The daily Nebraskan. ([Lincoln, Neb.) 1901-current | View Entire Issue (Sept. 25, 2000)
Arts aithful ollowins Phish fans adhere to 'Deadhead' tradition i BY KEN MORTON Most music fans have traveled to Omaha to see their favorite acts play a live show. A good number will even travel to Kansas City, Mo. or Denver for a bigger show. But imagine traveling from Minneapolis to Kansas City, then heading to Englewood, Colo., then packing up and going to Las Vegas for a couple of days, followed by a trip through California. For hundreds - maybe even thousands - of Phish fans, trips across the country are commonplace. Phish fans, also known as “Phishheads,” have devel oped a traveling culture in the tradition of the Grateful Dead, and tonight that carnival atmosphere will pull into the Sandstone Amphitheater in Bonner Springs, Kan. The Phish phenomenon started over 15 years ago at the University ofVermont in Burlington. All four band members were students there and started play ing together. Drawn together by outstanding musi cianship and a penchant for free-form jamming, Phish quiddy gained a following. Word-of-mouth continued to spread the gospel of Phish, and by 1989, the band could sell out clubs in cities such as Boston. Phish landed a major-label deal with Elektra Records in 1991, and the national expo sure helped create a following across the country. Phish began to designate tapers’ sections for bootleggers at concerts. The band’s liberal taping pol icy, coupled with the traveling fans that had started to follow the band, drew obvious comparisons to the Grateful Dead. Like the Dead, Phish has not gained much main stream success. But Phish’s ticket sales consistently surpass those of pop artists like Celine Dion. So how can a band that has never had a platinum record gain such a devoted following? Alex Marsh, a native of Grand Island, followed Phish for about three months in the summer of 1998. Marsh said a lack of money - and no way to get to Bonner Springs - will keep him away from tonight’s show. “I went enough a couple of years ago to tide me over for a while,” Marsh said. “Besides, the real hard core Phish fans - and the best shows - are on the East Coast” Marsh first discovered Phish while attending boarding school in Colorado and experienced his first Phish concert in Syracuse, N.Y. while he was at college at Hobart and William Smith Colleges in Geneva, N.Y. “Phish concerts were huge events at school,” Marsh said. Marsh was instandy hooked after attend ing the concert “There’s just this amazing attitude at their shows,” Marsh said. “It’s like this giant carnival community outside the show. Everybody’s real friendly, and you can always find people to hang out with. “I remember one show in Indianapolis where they only played three songs all night, but they played for over two hours,” he said Phish’s improvisational “jam” style has earned them fans among musicians. Brian Fisk, a system administrator for http://www.netscape.org, which hosts http://www.phish.net, said Phish’s variety and musicianship naturally draw people that want to lis ten to music. N “Phish will play their trademark jazz-influenced rock, some deep funk grooves and some bluegrass all in one night,” he said. Fisk, who handles many of the technical aspects of the Phish Web site, became a fan about six years ago. At his first show in 1995, Fisk said he was a bit annoyed by the extended jams. “I was talking about it with the friend who got me started,” he said. “I complained about how-Down With Disease’ went on forever. He went nuts because I didn’t understand the value of the jams. Of course I’ve heard enough Phish now to understand the value.” Fisk said the concerts are so special that people would rather go to a show, or get a bootleg copy of a show, than get a studio album. "Studio albums are done in this cold, sterile envi ronment, which means Phish’s trademark jams have to be watered down or left out,” he said. “People know how different each show can be. Why buy a studio album when you can have dozens of different ver sions of each song on tape?” The spread of the Internet in the last few years has helped the spread of concert tapes as well, Fisk said. He also said word-of-mouth remains a vital part of Phish’s success. Once someone wants to find out more about the band, then the Net becomes impor tant. “If you’re looking for a tape of a certain show or just trying to build a collection, the Net greatly expands the number of opportunities,’’ Fisk said. Marsh said he had found quite a few tapes on the Internet that he wouldn’t have been able to find any where else. Tapes are also peddled and traded in the parking lots of the venues where Phish plays. However, Marsh said tapes, T-shirts and other trinkets aren’t the only things sold in the parking lot before the show. “I was surprised that there was a lot more LSD than anything,” he said. "I thought I'd see more mari juana than I did.” Marsh said the absence of police surprised him. “I saw some security guards and stuff, but I didn’t really see any cops,” he said. "We bought our marijua na in the parking lot and weren't worried about it” For the Sandstone show, an officer with the Bonner Springs Police Department said he expects no more incidents of drug possession than at any other rock show and has no plans to add security, despite the reputation Phish concerts have earned. Fisk hopes the stereotypes about Phishheads will disappear as they gain more fans. “Everybody has this idea of a dread-locked hip pie,” Fisk said. “But there is a lot more to Phish than j that image.” Marsh said he agrees with Phish to some extent, but did say drugs and Phish will probably always be linked in some way. «. With . . ! I think some people use Phish accuse to do j drugs,” Marsh said. “But even peopjb gf the shows J who enjoy thejmusic are probably stoi^ji.’' For Marsh*thedmgs enhanced his Enjoyment of ! the concerts. S,. r /-' IF. “Drugs or hot," Marsh said, “I would highly rec- , ommend going to at least one Phish concert in your life.” v ■!- j 'Famous'portrays 70s in a rosy light ■This autobiographical love letter'speaks of an era that is too for gone for young audiences. BYSAMUaMCKEWON “Be honest and unmerciful,” grizzled Creem Magazine editor Lester Bangs snarls to 15-year-old William Miller, ready to begin his career as a rock journalist. It’s 1973j the rock ’n’ roll era has come to, pi fester’s words, “its death knell^and William, well, he’s happ^jiist to havegot in c^jhetail $b:,begins writer-difector CamiefOn Crowe's sepu-^jtobio grapraCal love letter to the *19708 music scene, “Almost Famous,” a . vivid snapshot of Crowe’s experi ences as a teen-aged rock journal ist for Rolling Stone Magazine, which, if we believe the story in front of us, was a mostly innocent and beautiful thing, despite the drugs, the groupies and the occa sional pool dive off a roof. I don’t buy it. While “Almost Famous” opened to across-the board jubilant reviews in major cities last weekend, it’s likely to hit a certain ceiling with audiences anywhere below 30 years of age, who are unfamiliar with the era. Major movie critics are mostly older white men, most of whom embrace that era - and the music that came before it - with a sort of reverence. Crowe does, too, and to his credit, he admits it in interviews, in press notes, everywhere. So here’s a rock movie, while drop dead accurate and often a funny recreation of the period, seen through some of the rosiest colored glasses on the market. It's predictable, contrived and, after awhile, feels like a collection of sitcoms strung together for slight dramatic effect. It’s enjoy able to a point. Beyond that, you either identify with the era or you don’t You’ve been forewarned. As it stands, Miller/Crowe is played by newcomer Patrick Fugit with a bright smile and sheepish antics of a kid in way over his head. The story is seen through his eyes. He has a sister and a mother (Frances McDormand) who rep resent the opposite sides of his conscience - curious and protec tive. When the sister becomes a stewardess, she leaves her record albums, including Zeppelin’s “No. 2” and The Who’s “Tommy,” and attaches a note: “Listen and light a candle, and your future will become clear.” William gets deeply into music and meets up with Lester (Phillip Seymour Hoffman, whose performance steals another movie). William impresses Bangs with riffs on Lou Reed (“His early stuff is good, now he’s trying to be too much like Bowie.”) and gets an assignment - 1,000 words on Black Sabbath. Never happens. William gets shut out at the concert backstage door. But he meets Penny (Kate Hudson), a glorified girl groupie who calls herself Band-Aide. Penny’s got the look that not many women have. Drenched in blonde curls and big fur coats, Hudson, the daughter of Goldie Hawn, is a major discovery - her career will skyrocket, like that of Renee Zellweger after she glowed in another Crowe film, “Jerry Please see FAMOUS on 9 'Urban Legends 2' fails to top original ■Though chock full of plot twists and horror, movie does n't live up to sequel potential. BY SAMUEL MCKEWON Joseph (Joey) Lawrence, sometimes singer and the former “WHOA!” guy from the sitcom “Blossom,” could have a role as David Copperfield - the illusion ist, not the Dickens’ character-in his future. Why, he looks just like the guy, with a smaller nose. And a less magical grin. That was the most significant observation made during “Urban As executive producer Brad Legends 2: The Final Cut,” a Luff says in the press notes: “We sequel so chock full of twists and used a lot of great urban legends horror, it nearly matches the in the first picture. How could we standard of the first “Urban top that?” Legend,” a solid, one-star piece of Indeed. So it made clear sense entertainment. Alas, some bars -— are simply set too high to eclipse. Please see LEGEND on 9