JB, MJ and the Purple One Share A Stage!!!

If you were to rate the top five most influential artists in the history of Funk/R&B, the high priests would undoubtedly include James Brown, Michael Jackson, and Prince. Combined, what they have done more for dance music is absolutely staggering, and they all are considered the masters of their own genres. They are the untouchables of Funky Dance Music, and here they are, together on one stage. We are lucky enough to have footage of this incredible event, though it is crappy. The planets must have been aligned perfectly for an event of this magnitude to have ever occurred!



MJ appears shy, but brings the house down with his pure talent. He then insists to JB that Prince be introduced as well. Prince knows full well he can't top MJ, and doesn't even try. Instead, he opts for a spectacle. Riding in on the back of a hairy white guy, he appears very fucked up on something. He doesn't even bother singing, and instead rapes the shit out of a guitar for a while before pulling some random sexy stage antics. He then stumbles off stage, taking a piece of the set with him. The JB is all like, "Hey Prince, you forgot your shirt! Don't forget it on your way out."

If I had witnessed this event live, my head would have exploded. Simply and utterly EPIC.

Love Songs

Not that I ever do this, but considering the Grammies were last night, today I suddenly got an inkling to poke my head into the bizarre world that we call "popular music." I haven't paid any attention to the "chart-toppers" and "hit singles" in many, many years. Probably since the late 90s, when that horrible swarm of boy-bands descended upon and destroyed what was left of MTV, which was already on its death-bed by then.

So today I checked out the Billboard Hot 100 list, and with mild surprise, discovered that it is Kelly Clarkson who currently tops out the charts at #1 with her touching love song, beautifully titled, "My Life Would Suck Without You." Imagine Casey Kasem introducing that. Jesus fucking Christ.

But I suppose that there always has been and always will be musical drivel to feed to the masses. And if there has been one constant in the history of rock and roll over the past fifty years that has never gone out of style, it has been the universal appeal of the love song. (This does go back much further, to Tin Pan Alley and Sinatra and the crooners, but Rock is our main lexicon here.) From Elvis' "I Love You Because" in 1955 to "My Life Would Suck Without You," there has always been room for another pop nugget love song to give the world, regardless if it's a lovely gem, or a polished turd.

Given that most popular love songs are disposable fluff, there is no denying that it is not easy to write a love song that's simultaneously loved by millions and respected as actually having substance, as a form of art. Phil Spector was very good at this in the early 60's, and don't even get me started with soul music and Motown. But there is no denying that there really only has been one band to succeed in making high art out of love songs so often, and at such a consistently high level – obviously, The Beatles.

They were so good for so many reasons, and good love songs were really at the core of it all, especially at the beginning. One after another, they kept pumping these vital tracks out, and out of all those amazing love songs, only the occasional McCartney song came across as sappy in any way ("Michelle").

By '67 or so, once they had accepted their positions on the high throne of youth culture, The Beatles had assumed and embraced their roles as troubadours of Love. Their love songs had progressively gotten more and more complex through the Rubber Soul and Revolver albums, saying smart things about ambiguity, pleasure and guilt that had never been done in pop music at the time. They had mastered the craft of writing meaningful love songs, and were at the top of their game. Then Lennon went ahead and took it to a whole other level, summing it ALL up with the universal "All You Need is Love," which was premiered to the world in the first-ever global satellite television broadcast. Soon after, he realized he couldn't really take it any further than that. It seems to me that that song was essentially the climax of the Lennon-McCartney love song era, and they mostly dropped off the love theme after that. The best Beatles love songs post-Revolver were George songs, as he seems to have taken the torch from John and Paul while they explored other aspects of songwriting. Case in point: "Something." This is perhaps the best love song EVER, in the history of all songs. Frank Sinatra himself is known to have said that “Something” is his favorite Lennon-McCartney song.

Then The Beatles broke up. But the love songs continued, and at a pretty consistent quality. John, Paul and George have all contributed their fair share of lovely little ditties of love post-Beatles, though Paul has been guilty the most often of slipping into saccharine, sickly-sweet ballads that suck. Of note is his garish ballad "My Love," a Wings song that has to be the weakest, sappiest, poutiest puppy-dog-eyed McCartney ballad ever (way too many wubba wubs). This song reached #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 during June 1973. Fittingly enough, it was knocked out of the #1 spot at the end of June by George Harrison's far superior new single, "Give Me Love (Give Me Peace on Earth)," which is a great forgotten track.

Perhaps in response to the bashing he got for the sucky "My Love," Paul came out a few years later with "Silly Love Songs," with lyrics which pretty much sum it all up:

You'd think that people would have had enough of silly love songs.
But I look around me and I see it isn't so.
Some people wanna fill the world with silly love songs.
And what's wrong with that?
I'd like to know, 'cause here I go again
I love you, I love you,
I love you, I love you...

Well spoken, Sir Paul. A good love song is a song for all people, everywhere. So I suppose that songs like "My Love," or "My Life Would Suck Without You" do bring lots of pleasure to many people, regardless of the fact that they really, really suck. They are evidence that there will always be another silly love song to add to the long list.

And now, a list of all the Beatles Love Songs, meaning, the best love songs ever written:

• All My Loving

• All You Need Is Love

• And I Love Her

• Can't Buy Me Love

• From Me To You

• Hold Me Tight

• I Feel Fine

• I Wanna Be Your Man

• I Wanna Hold Your Hand

• I Want You (She's So Heavy) (love turned raunchy)

• I'll Get You

• It's Only Love

• Love Me Do

• Love You To (Harrison)

• Lovely Rita

• Michelle (my belle, mi amore...)

• Please Please Me

• PS I Love You

• Real Love (actually a Lennon song before being overdubbed in the 90s)

• She Loves You

• Something (Harrison)

• You've Got to Hide Your Love Away (Lennon's anti-love breakup song)

Post-Beatles Solo Career songs about Love:

Lennon:

• Love (Plastic Ono Band)

• Oh My Love

• Nobody Loves You (When You're Down and Out) (written during his breakup with Yoko, when he became a depressed party-animal)

• Woman

• Every Man Has A Woman Who Loves Him

• Dear Yoko

• Grow Old With Me

Harrison:

• I Dig Love

• Give Me Love (Give Me Peace on Earth)

• The Lord Loves the One (That Loves the Lord)

• Māya Love

• Ooh Baby (You Know That I Love You)

• Can't Stop Thinking About You

• Learning How to Love You

• Love Comes to Everyone

• Your Love Is Forever

• Wake Up My Love

• This is Love

And McCartney, the hopeless romantic. Sometimes pouty and too soft, but always catchy and melodic:

• Lovely Linda

• Maybe I'm Amazed (at the way you Love me all the time)

• Love is Strange

• My Love
  

• One More Kiss

• Love in Song

• Silly Love Songs
  

• Girlfriend (originally written with Michael Jackson in mind as the singer, MJ later covered it on Off the Wall)

• Through Our Love

• Only Love Remains

• Don't Be Careless Love

• Motor of Love

• The Lovers That Never Were

• Heather (Written for Heather Mills, the one-legged gold-digger)

• Your Loving Flame

In Voluptate Mors

So I'm walking down Haight St. one sunny afternoon in the summer of 2006, shootin' the shit with my buddy Eddie. This is our first time in San Francisco, so we're taking it all in, browsing the storefronts. We soon pass an art gallery, and I see an image that stops me in my tracks. "What the fuck is that?" I blurt out. I take a step closer and peer through the storefront glass, and this is what I see:

"That is the coolest poster I have ever seen," I say. "I must own it. It shall be the centerpiece of my home. I will have dinner parties, and we will sip martinis, gaze up at the framed masterpiece, and have passionate discussions aroused by the dichotomies and contradictions brought up in its powerful imagery." I quickly pull out a piece of scrap paper and write down the name of the work: In Voluptate Mors, by Salvador Dalí & Philippe Halsman, taken in 1951. Needless to say, after checking out the pricetag on the framed print, I pass on the purchase, promising to myself I will own it someday. Oh yes, it will be mine. Someday, Alice, Someday.

Needless to say, I have yet to find a worthy print of this masterwork within my price range. But lets examine this work for a moment, shall we? There is a lot going on here. Not much really needs to be said, as the image really speaks for itself, with the beautiful female image contorted into a grotesque grin of death. And the look on Dalí's face? Fear. Also, distance and aloofness, which make it more unsettling. I'll let you take from the piece what you will, but there is no denying it is a totally original work. I've never seen anything like it before.

Which is why I was disappointed, but not surprised, to find that Hollywood has gotten its grubby little hands on this piece and plagiarized it nice and good. The first use of this image I approve of, as it is actually very clever. It is more of an homage, as it is subtle. Here is the original Silence of the Lambs poster:

On its own it is a haunting image, very well executed and subtle in its menacing softness. The skull on the moth's back emphasizes this dichotomy of muted fear. But take a really close look at the skull, and there it is:

Brilliant. I can get behind this usage of the image. Thematically, it fits right in with the poster. Moths, as well as nude women, are both considered soft, delicate creatures. Here, they are both branded with death, contradicting themselves. I can dig that. Thumbs up for Silence of the Lambs.

It was a number of years before Hollywood decided to use usurp this image as a promotional tool again, and this time, the results were not as inspired, or as subtle. Apparently, the same can be said for the film itself, though I have not seen it. I'll let the poster speak for itself:

The Descent was released in 2006, and apparently it is a well-executed horror flick which balances gore with psychological terror (claustrophobia, etc.) But the poster is shit, just a total rip-off. To someone who has never seen the original, it probably is pretty cool, but it should be considered pure plagiarism. The obvious factor which ruins the imagery is that the girls are clothed, with hiking boots on. Also, the dark and light is inverted. Both of these changes destroy any meaningful imagery inherent in the original, leaving an empty shell of an image. The best response this poster is capable of getting is a, "hey, that's a cool poster!" But alas, nothing more.

Hopefully, if anyone else decides to plagiarize this original masterpiece, they will have the good sense to respect it as art, and do it tastefully.

Until then, I will be sitting in my armchair, legs crossed with pipe and bathrobe, gazing quizzically up at my gold-framed artist's proof of In Voluptate Mors, contemplating the fragile, beautiful mess that is the human condition.

Le Voyage Dans La Lune

So I've recently been having some nostalgia about old-school MTV, when they played music videos on a regular basis, many of them being very good and creative! What a concept! Sadly, these days are gone, but luckily, MTV has launched mtvmusic.com, where you can look up just about any video that you crave, and watch it.

That being said, one of my all-time favorite videos is the Smashing Pumpkins' "Tonight, Tonight."



It is beautiful in its surrealistic imagery, and the video actually has a coherent, structured plot that is engaging and entertaining the entire way through. The plot consists of a Victorian space-ship take-off and moon-landing, and the music is elegantly complimented by the original cinematography. Bottom line, one of the best videos ever.

But did you know that it actually takes its entire storyline, literally scene-by-scene, from a French silent film from 1902? The film, by Georges Mlis, is called Le Voyage Dans La Lune, and is considered the first science-fiction film ever made.



It is inspired by Jules Verne's book From the Earth to the Moon, and contains some brilliant special effects, that still hold up over 100 years later. Most memorable is the iconic image of the man in the moon getting hit in the eye with the spaceship. I love all the imagery and scenes in the original film, many of them are pretty bizarre.

After watching the original film, then re-watching the Smashing Pumpkins' version, completely new dimensions are added to the music video. The video stands up great on its own as a work of art, but once it's viewed as an homage to the original, it gains an entirely new level of depth, while at the same time losing some of its originality.

Actually, now that I think about it, that image of the man in the moon used to haunt my dreams as a small child... and I don't even remember where I first saw it! I guess that means it's pretty effective imagery.

Just want a little Taste...

Midnight on a carousel ride
Reaching for the gold ring down inside

Never could reach
It just slips away, but I try...

-Robert Hunter (Grateful Dead), "Crazy Fingers"

An immortal instinct, deep within the spirit of man, is thus, plainly, a sense of the Beautiful. This it is which administers to his delight in the manifold forms, and sounds, and odours, and sentiments amid which he exists… [But] There is still a something in the distance which he has been unable to attain. We have still a thirst unquenchable, to allay which he has not shown us the crystal springs. This thirst belongs to the immortality of man. It is at once a consequence and an indication of his perennial existence. It is the desire of the moth for the star. It is no mere appreciation of the Beauty before us - but a wild effort to reach the Beauty above. Inspired by an ecstatic prescience of the glories beyond the grave, we struggle, by multiform combinations among the things and thoughts of Time, to attain a portion of that Loveliness whose very elements, perhaps, appertain to eternity alone. And thus when Poetry – or when by Music, the most entrancing of the Poetic moods – we find ourselves melted into tears – we weep then – not as the Abbate Gravina supposes – through excess of pleasure, but through a certain, petulant, inpatient sorrow at our inability to grasp now, wholly, here on earth, at once and for ever, those divine and rapturous joys, of which through the poem, or through the music, we attain to but brief and indeterminate glimpses.

- Edgar Allan Poe, “The Poetic Principle”

All lovers live by longing, and endure:
Summon a vision and declare it pure.

- Theodore Roethke, from “The Vigil”

The one thing that we yearn for in our living days, that makes us sigh and groan and undergo sweet nauseas of all kinds, is the remembrance of some lost bliss that was probably experienced in the womb and can only be reproduced (though we hate to admit it) in death. But who wants to die?

- Jack Kerouac, On the Road

And so we live on, day by day, looking forward to the next occasion we find to get a taste. Cause that's all that we really need to rejuvenate ourselves, is just a taste of it. The taste comes through art, or music, or love, or whatever. And it's that continual anticipation of our next taste that keeps us going.

Thought you'd enjoy some philosophical ranting for a change. Gettin' deep and heavy is good for ya every once and a while, we should try it more often.

Led Zeppelin Tour Update (Bad News)

So after the successful one-off Led Zeppelin reunion show last year, rumors of a tour have been intensely spreading around the internet. Way back in last November, with all the buzz surrounding the reunion, Robert Plant told Rolling Stone that "I never wanted to do it again, now I want to do nothing else." This got many, many people tremendously excited.

But through 2008, Plant was touring with Alison Krauss in support of their quiet, country/Americana-tinged album Rising Sand. He has now made a statement saying that he does not want to play "loud" music anymore, and will never tour with Zeppelin again. On its own, this is very bad news. But now we know that Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones have been happily rehearsing together and are "ready to go," and still plan to tour as Zeppelin, even if it means recruiting a new singer. Combined, these two pieces of news are utterly and horribly devastaing.

But wait, it gets worse. We now know that they have allready named a potential new lead singer that they decided on through try-outs. It is some schmuck named Myles Kennedy, singer of some shit post-grunge band named Alter Bridge, which contains multiple members of the shittiest band in recent history: Creed! This could be one of the worst things to ever happen to music. To have the singer for a Creed-like band singing Plant's lines in Zeppelin would be a legacy-ruining move for Jimmy Page. This would be like, I don't know, if the Beatles reunited with George Michael replacing John Lennon. Just horrible. Sacreligious.

This is why I propose that a new singer is recruited. If Robert Plant is stubborn enough to turn down a huge pile of money AND watch his legacy get shit on by some imposter by not touring, then I think Page should get Chris Robinson from the Black Crowes to sing lead. This would be a respectable choice, as Robinson is probably the best modern frontman in Rock. He's taken his cues and style from the classic 70s frontmen, and though he sounds more like Faces-era Rod Stewart, Robinson would be a perfect decision for a replacement. He oozes sexuality like early Plant did, and has the pipes to back it up.

We allready know that Robinson would rock the Zeppelin songs, as Jimmy Page has allready played them with the Black Crowes; this collaboration was released on the excellent double album, Live at the Greek. I suggest that you get your hands on this album immedietely, as it rocks very hard, and long. Having already toured succesfully with Robinson and the Black Crowes, I don't really know what the fuck Page is thinking by not considering him. He should get his head out of his ass before its too late, and realize that he may ruin a legacy that deserves more respect than some guy from Creed can give it.

Regarding Aliens, Pyramids, Music, and Transcendence

So I watched Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull the other day, and it was entertaining and fun. The ending to the movie was completely over the top though, even for Indiana Jones. And however ridiculous it was, it still got me thinking about Steven Spielberg's obsession with aliens, specifically good, wise aliens that inspire awe and admiration in the humans they interact with. This in turn got me thinking about a specific and reoccurring view that pop culture often puts forth of aliens and pyramids.

(Spoiler Alert!) In the film, Indy's crew ends up at an ancient hidden city in the Amazon, which they find by listening to to the crystal skull's messages - it tells them things telepathically. This city has an ancient temple-pyramid, which they enter into, and soon discover that it houses the aliens' inner sanctum. The aliens were treated as Gods by ancient Mayan civilization, and provided the Mayan society with technology to grow food and thrive. There are 12 crystal alien skeletons in the chamber, and once the stray and final skull is returned to its body, the aliens awaken, and offer universal knowledge and wisdom to the humans as thanks for making them whole again. This opportunity is lost, however, as everything disintegrates and crumbles as the aliens take off back to their dimension in their spaceship. Indy and his friends of course escape being destroyed in the nick of time.

This absurd plot treats the pyramid/spaceship as a vessel that inspires holiness and wonder in people. Such an approach to the pyramid figure is not new. This concept has recently been taken to the next level by the electronic act Daft Punk's live show. When Daft Punk toured in 2007, their stage centerpiece was a futuristic pyramid, equipped with an incredible light show. Perched atop the pyramid were the two members of Daft Punk, decked out in their robot-spacesuits. With their block-rockin' beats, their show turned them into alien/god-like figures. The stage was set to present Daft Punk as the master of ceremonies for a night of transcendence through light and music before a glowing pyramid. Check out some footage of this awesome spectacle here.

The concept of musical pyramid worship that this stage show suggests also reminds me of an epic trip that the Grateful Dead took in 1978. In what turned out to be a massive undertaking, the band arranged a set of shows to be played at an amphitheater at the foot of the Great Pyramids and Sphinx. The highlights from these shows were recently released on CD and DVD, and further add to the mystical and timeless tradition of celebration before the pyramid. In recounts from members of the Dead and their audience, those shows were imbued with an otherworldly feel, taking on a holy aura. Playing under a lunar eclipse at the World's Most Ancient Temple, the Dead sounded like they never had, before or after – something about the setting gives this music an extra transcendent and spiritual quality. Imagine, a worship of the gods, a celebration of life through the Grateful Dead. In the words of Bob Weir: “I got to a point where the head of the Sphinx was lined up with the top of the Great Pyramid, all lit up. All of a sudden, I went to this timeless place. The sounds from the stage – they could have been from any time. It was as if I went into eternity.” What a fucking scene.

Now to tie all these disparate concepts together, I'm reminded of another Spielberg alien film – Close Encounters of the Third Kind. For those who haven't seen it, this movie treats aliens in a similar way as Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull – they are peaceful, wise, and reach out to humanity, offering their wisdom to us. They do not have a pyramid, but instead arrive in a huge spaceship that offers us a spectacle of beautiful music and color. In this sense, the aliens' spaceship has more in common with the Daft Punk stage show than it does with any other Spielberg film. The movie climaxes with a blissful interaction with the aliens - the moment of contact. The aliens take our musical beacon, and respond by creating a symphony of sound and color out of it. The look on the people's faces during this scene is one of bliss and euphoria, not unlike one would feel at an excellent concert. (Watch this awesome scene here) The aliens are presented as God-like in this film, offering an ultimate answer to life's banal existence. And when Richard Dreyfuss' character is taken aboard the ship in the final scene, it can be viewed as his spiritual journey fulfilled, with the aliens providing transcendence. This is very similar to the end of Indiana Jones in this sense.

I suppose the bottom line is that we all crave to feel and be moved by something that's bigger and grander than we are, and the pyramid is an excellent symbol for this. It is stolid, immobile, and seemingly eternal. It is also mysterious in its grandiose majesty, seemingly not of this earth. Spielberg touches upon a similar sense of unknown desire in his alien films, and uses music to deliver his vision. Live music and the celebrations that arise from these gatherings are an ethereal way to reach toward these spiritual places we crave, and when pyramids and all they stand for are thrown into the mix, things can get pretty surreal. I hope I've gotten across what I've tried to convey regarding our pop culture's perspective of the role of pyramids, aliens and transcendence.

PHiSH Reunite! - My all-time top PHiSH shows

This morning's momentous news that Phish is reuniting spread through the online world like wildfire. Text messages were sent, and status messages were updated to spread the almighty word to all that "Phish is back!!!" As I write this, message boards everywhere are filling with speculation about Summer tour dates, setlists, and what color shirt Mike will be wearing.

I'm sure many of us have weaned ourselves off of the Phish somewhat over the past few years as our lives have progressed and changed, but now seems to be the time to revisit this collective obsession and embrace it for all its worth. As tribute to this renewed fervor of Phish-maina, here are my all-time top Phish shows, in order of utter sickness factor: (click on links to download the shows via BitTorrent)

1. February 28, 2003 - Nassau Coliseum - The best concert experience of my entire life. The magic-hose-mojo was everywhere this night. This show is most known for the re-emergence of the song "Destiny Unbound," which hadn't been played since 1991, but that was nothin' compared to the jamz that abounded. The band rolls along, exploring uncharted musical avenues with complete and utter synergy. "Get Back on the Train" and "Bathtub Gin" in the first set were journeys, then the time-stopping, 30 min. "Tweezer" to start the second set, which is really one long jam, all the way to the final notes of "Harry Hood." A three-song Encore is icing on the cake.

2. December 31, 1993 - Worcester Centrum - A no-holds-barred barrage of face-melting, shredding, celebratory music. I like this show better than the more popular MSG NYE show from 1995. It just rages, and every single song is pushed to an old-school bliss-out climax, with Trey flexing his then-impeccable chops. Favorite moments include Auld Lang Syne> Down With Disease Jam (First time played)> Split Open and Melt, and my all-time favorite "Harry Hood," complete with an "Auld Lang Syne" tease thrown in there.

3. December 31, 1999 - Big Cypress - It's hard to beat a six-hour, midnite-to-sunrise continuous set. Not much needs to be said for this one. The band itself has said that it was the peak of Phish. Too many highlights to list here, but the "After Midnight," as well as the Drowned> After Midnight Reprise are rage-tastic.

4. December 30, 1997 - Madison Square Garden - A cow-funk-heavy party of a show that has something for everyone. Amazing setlist, plenty of spacious arena-funk, lots of jamming, and a Harpua thrown in ta-boot before a 30 min. encore caps it off. This show contains every disparate musical element that makes Phish amazing.

5. June 18, 1994 - UIC Pavillion, Chicago, IL - In a year as amazing as 1994, this show really stands out as simply perfect. Every song is flawlessly executed with red-hot intensity, and there is some really ferocious Trey-action going on here. Mind Left Body Jam> David Bowie is raunchy. Listening to the tapes, it sounds like an extremely sweaty time. This is the show where Trey says he had a mystical experience during the pause in "Divided Sky." In Trey's own words:

"I had a really incredible experience once when we were playing in Chicago. It was a really special night, and I was envisioning the music flying around the room. You know the concept of being the tube, and the music is flowing through you? I was really open, we were doing "Divided Sky," and I felt like the music was these sheets that were zinging across the air in front of my ace. All I had to do to play was jump on one, and let it do the playing. I got to that section of "Divided Sky" where we usually do a pause, and I realized that just because I wasn't playing notes with my hands didn't mean I couldn't still be a vehicle for this music that was there. I decided I was going to have the same feeling the music going through me and coming out through the guitar, but without making any noticeable sound. I started imagining the music zipping out through the middle of my chest into the audience, and right when I started doing that, the place erupted. No joke. It was the wildest thing. We were standing up there for 45 seconds, motionless, with no sound, and I realized I could continue jamming in silence. I did it, and the place went, "RAHHH." It was the coolest. I was writing in my journal about it for a week."

6. June 19 and 20, 2004 - SPAC - Saratoga Springs, NY - When I met Mike on his golfcart at Coventry, I asked him what he thought the best shows he ever played were. He replied that in recent memory, it was the shows at SPAC, notably the second night. For some reason, I did not attend these, which I will regret forever, as my friends have been raving about them since. There was obviously crazy energy going on, due to the farewell tour. But these shows were jammed to perfection, with Trey holding back enough to give everyone in the band a chance to lead the jams into new places. The collective group mind, the absolute telepathy between these musicians is astounding at these shows. Check out the Piper> Gotta Jiboo from the 19th, and the Drowned Jam and the entire 2nd set from the 20th, which Mike owns. This is the band jamming as four equal parts of a whole, and the results sound like nothing the band had ever played.

7. July 1 and 2, 1997 - Paradiso - Amsterdam, Netherlands - Probably the most psychedelic and out-there shows the band has ever played. The first night has a five-song 2nd set, the second night's 2nd set has three songs. And as a thematic thread, trey keeps yelling "You're on the back of the worm!" during freaky jams. In Trey's words from a High Times interview, here is the story behind that:

"When we were in Amsterdam, me and a friend took a couple of hits of acid and a hit of Ecstasy later on that night. We were walking around and I started imagining I was riding on this giant sandworm, because the roads kind of go up and down. I was picturing these huge sandworms, diving up out of the canals. That's where the phrase 'Back of the Worm' came from. The next night in the middle of this crazy jam... I think I was yelling that and people started saying 'Back of the worm!' ...as soon as I'm on stage I start trying to play the guitar like that... I probably started using effects in a different way the night after that, because I wanted the music to be able to do it."

So these shows are obviously influenced by substances, and they are seriously tripped out due to this fact. The "Ghost" from the first set first night is the perfect place to start, as it rages hard and long. The other highlights are the Bathtub Gin> Jam> Cities from the first night, with a perfect transition, and the uber-weird "Stash" from the second night. Strange, amazing music.