My love for music began fifty years ago, to this day. 11/22/63. America’s beloved President, John Fitzgerald Kennedy, was assassinated. Everyone remembers the moment when they heard the news. Unsurprisingly, the country fell into a deep depression after the tragic loss of its handsome president.
We needed something, anything to take us out of our collective funk, and, when it arrived, three months later, everyone paid attention. Even at the tender age of eight-and-a-half, I distinctly remember being blown away by the super nova force of Beatlemania. Whether you loved them or hated them, The Beatles’ performance on Ed Sullivan changed the world and music with such a profound intensity that its effect still reverberates today, and my passion for music has never abated.
Now fifty-eight-and-a-half, I’ve been to my fair share of concerts. I’ve seen the greats in their heyday. The Who rocking in their prime… Muddy Waters bringing down the house in the early 1970s… The Grateful Dead blazing a trail for jam music… this was the best that music could be. Songs shaped lives of the people in my generation, even inciting us to rally against the Vietnam War and other societal imbalances. What a thrilling time it was.
And it wasn’t just The Beatles that still resonate. The first track on the first Led Zeppelin record—”Good Times, Bad Times”— exposed many of us to the thrill and chill of blues-based rock music. In 1967, we heard The Doors “Light My Fire” for the first time. We heard Jimi Hendrix light up the airwaves with “Foxy Lady.” We saw The Who just kill it on The Smothers Brothers program with a nuclear rendition of “My Generation.” It was a little frightening, but it swept a whole generation with a tidal wave of magnificence.
(Easily the greatest moment in rock and roll history.)
As time passed and the music industry expanded into new venues, I believed that video really did kill the radio star. The impact of any particular artist was inherently diluted by an increasing number of music outlets. This only “worsened” with the advent of the internet. I firmly believed that the golden age of rock music had passed, and, for a long time, I was stuck in the music from the 1960s and 1970s.
From that mentality, I took great pride in exposing my son to the great artists of my generation. I bragged to all my friends when my son David passed on a ski weekend trip with his buddies to see BB King with me at the legendary Wiltern Theatre in LA. Or, when a then-15-year-old David correctly pointed out to his friends that the song “Spoonful” was not written by Cream, but by the blues legend Willie Dixon. Oh how I beamed that day!
Yup, I was going to teach my son about great music. At some point along the way, the teacher became the student. Isn’t it funny how that happens?
I taught David to love music, and fortunately for me, he never stopped listening. Unconstrained by nostalgia, he pointed me towards the good music of his generation. Artists like Umphrey’s McGee, moe., Derek Trucks, Dr. Dog, Black Keys, Widespread Panic, White Denim (and so many more)… just great, great musicians that work incredibly hard to master their craft. They pay homage to the musicians of my generation, without sounding derivative. It is always about the music…not pop stardom. You have to respect their dedication.
Quite simply, I believe that today’s jam-band music scene is rock’s salvation and rebirth.
From this scene, there is one band (in my mind) that stands tall – Mt. Everest tall – Phish. After listening to A Live One, David was hooked, pun intended, and quickly referred the band to me. “Dad, you have to check this band out.” I had heard of Phish – those goofy guys who spell their band name funny. “Grateful Dead wannabes,” I said to myself.
But a true music fan is open minded. My boy has incredible taste in music and if he tells me to listen to something, I heed his advice. It’s always one song that reels you in, and, for me, that song was “Free.” After a few listens, I told David that this was one of the best songs I had ever heard. From there, my curiosity for the band blossomed. After our first show together, I found myself as passionate about a band as I was fifty years ago, when Beatlemania filled young Americans with love after the devastating loss of JFK.
Now, I thoroughly believe that Phish is the best band on the planet. They are virtuoso musicians, individually accomplished and collectively mind-blowing. Together, Page, Trey, Mike, and Fish comprise an incredibly tight band, evidenced by delicate vocal harmonies and lengthy jams that always move yet never feel aimless. Not to mention Trey’s innate ability as a composer, as any given set-list will incorporate elements of fugal counterpoint, rumba, reggae, bluegrass, free-form jazz, blues, rock, and the occasional a cappella song. A composition like “You Enjoy Myself” contains most of these elements in a single song… all the while maintaining a cheerful attitude. Mozart and Miles Davis would look on with envy.
What is it about their shows that is so enjoyable? There is an incredible sense of brotherhood within the crowd, everyone simultaneously understanding the greatness of the moment. Everyone is sharing in the (Weekapaug) groove, and everyone is a participant. You aren’t just the audience; you are an integral member of the show. When the band sings “Harry,” the crowd responds with an uber-enthusiastic “Hood.” We (well, most of us) love it, the band loves it!
In a musical sense, Phish is the modern-day Beatles. Of course, no band can ever have the cultural impact of The Beatles., but as musicians and as a band, they do it all. Phish is a gift that must be treasured, because it will be a very, very long time before another artist can captivate us as completely as these guys do.
Phish and the many incredible modern artists have made me musically young…they have filled me with awe and wonderment. Bad back and all, I want to be in the mosh pit grooving with all the fans who are thirty years younger than me. And you know what? I see their nods of approval…I really think they like seeing an old geezer like me enjoying the experience.
So, fifty years later, I can’t help but reflect on how the assassination of John Kennedy completely changed the course of American history. The tragedy left us vulnerable, seeking respite. We found the Beatles, and the rest, as they say, is history.
-Rick Melamed and David Melamed (@DMelamz)
