REPORTING LIVE: GATHERING OF THE VIBES DAY II

I’m not sure, but I THINK Levon Helm MIGHT be having the time of his life up there. Teared up twice on Day II of Gathering of the Vibes, the first time when Bob Weir joined Levon and his band to cover “Attics of my Life”- “When I had no wings to fly, you flew to me. You flew to me.” YESSSSS. (Photo by Matt Lax courtesy of UNregular Radio)

It’s 9 p.m. on Friday at Gathering of the Vibes, and we are all on the verge of collapse. My legs are so stiff from dancing, running, and playing for two days in 110-degree heat that the walk from the campgrounds to the main stage for Furthur is a slow one. Because of the extreme temperature, festival founder Ken Hays changed the rules, and we are now allowed to bring water bottles into the concert area and replenish them at filling stations for free.

Every hotel within a 30-mile radius is booked, but our crew’s been sticking it out and camping with the Vibe Tribe, for lack of money and excess of dedication-

not to mention our uncanny ability to live it up under any conditions.

My skin beats with a persistent ache—my face, my back, the tops of my feet—where the sun has left a deep, lingering burn. The sweat and the two days’ worth of sun tan lotion and dirt I’ve accumulated create a thick shell atop my skin. Despite another day straight from the depths of fiery hell, I wipe the sweat out of my eyes and join the thousands of Deadheads gathering at the main stage—some said Furthur’s crowd this year was the largest yet at the Seaside Park festival.

Photo by Matt Lax courtesy of UNregular Radio.

One kid is tiredly waving a “Weir Everywhere” flag. I look to my left and right: we’re everywhere. The people crazy enough to push aside a dangerous heat wave and keep it together for the music, for the vibes—our glow sticks and our eyes brightly lit, waiting…

I look up as Phil Lesh and Bob Weir take the stage and sling straps over their shoulders, and proceed to lose my shit from excitement. I’ve ALMOST totally forgotten about the heat.

Photo by Matt Lax courtesy of UNregular Radio.

Then, something like this happens:

While I’m watching Furthur’s epic rendition of the Beatles’ “Golden Slumbers” and “Carry That Weight,” the heat wave dissipates. Right now, I have so many things to be thankful for: the sun has set, I’m extending my tired arms in the air and swaying with a huge field of smiling friends, and we are all sharing the amazing opportunity of seeing two members of the Grateful Dead blow us away.

……………………………………..

“This shit is bananas.”

I say around 11:30 a.m. earlier that day, laughing as the fourth giant banana duo we’ve seen so far jumps in front of us, shouting something nonsensical as we make our way to the music area. The sun is already high in the sky on Friday, but that won’t stop the Vibe Tribe from whipping out their best costumes: squid head hats, green men, enough tie-dye to last me for two lifetimes, big stuffed Grateful Dead bears, huge puppets on people’s shoulders. Our trippy wooden moose icon the guys I’m camping with fished out of their purple-painted prison van that they drove from Colorado for their summer-long tour as vendors at festivals. Their little boxer Tazz by our side.

Photo by Matt Lax courtesy of UNregular Radio.

As Kevin, Waldo and I strut through the campgrounds, people are grilling, spraying themselves with water-fans, throwing each other into the ocean. A water balloon crashes inches from my feet and I wish it would’ve smacked me in the face. Ice has changed its functionality: I now use it to rub down the guys’ necks and backs, as it disappears in milliseconds.

Five squirts of heavenly water hit me from somewhere.

“YOU GET A SQUIRT FOR YOUR HEADBAND!” says a chortling bearded man with a purple squirt gun, wearing John Lennon glasses and a Hunter S. Thompson Hawaiian shirt that is open and blowing in the deadly-hot breeze.

Somehow Dex Motha Fuckin Ter finds us amidst the crowd. Can someone please explain to me how this kind of thing always happens at festivals? Out of thousands and thousands of people, how do you always manage to run into multiple people you know??

“Have you heard of that one guy? He’s playing now at the School of Rock Stage,” Dex says.

“Um, a little more specificity would be nice,” I say.

“No, no, no, no, no, NO! ‘That 1 Guy and his Magic Pipe!’ You’ve never heard of him? He’s played in Boston before; he’s pretty big.”

The one-man band Dex is referring to ended up blowing my mind yet again. Mike Silverman, an expert double-bass player with a classical music background, has unmatchable musical talent. And he made his own instrument out of pipes! (Photo Cred: Jeffrey Roberts, that1guy.com)

The term “magic pipe” has taken on a whole new meaning:

a 7-foot construction of steel plumbing pipes and joints that looks like a harp, lined with electric rigging and orchestral bass strings. The pipe has trigger points that create various musical tweaks, sound effects, and samples. The instrument takes care of the beats while Silverman slaps, plucks, or slides a violin-bow back and forth across the strings—at one point during the show, he whips out a drum stick and plays both strings and pipe at the same time. The crowd amassed in the small School of Rock tent, the showcase for up-and-coming music students, goes nuts and we all cheer as That 1 Guy shreds his magic pipe:

Thank you GOD [aka Jerry Garcia], for this person. This fuckin’ guy! Jot him down in your “artists to watch” notebook, RIGHT NOW.

The day passed lazily away under an oppressive sun, playing in the Long Island Sound, grilling hotdogs, watching the guys hit on every skimpily dressed hippie chick for fun and then look guiltily at me.

Photo by Matt Lax courtesy of UNregular Radio.

I care not, as long as I’m at the Vibes and can stay alive long enough to see Levon Helm, Phil Lesh, and Bob Weir tonight.

I can tell you two sure things after seeing Levon Helm perform for the first time. One: he was having so much fun up there. And two: when Bob Weir joined the band for “Attics of my Life,” I did cry. It was that beautiful.

Courtesy of illmatic3384 on YouTube.

And not only does Levon kill it on the drums, but he can play a damn good “Deep Elum Blues” on mandolin:

They ended with “The Weight.” I could have died then and there and been happy.

But then I would have missed Furthur’s epic set.

Photo by Matt Lax courtesy of UNregular Radio.

Besides “Golden Slumbers,” my favorite of all was “Stella Blue,” and “I Know You Rider” was awesome as well. “Sugar Magnolia” was the funnest to dance to—everyone was so happy. And I loved “Sugaree” and “St. Stephen” as well. Here’s someone’s video of “I Know You Rider,” so you get the idea. During this I believe I was singing with everyone about how we wished we were headlights on north bound trains, so we could be relieved of this godawful heat by the cool Colorado rain:

I mean, come on, the second song they played was “Friend of the Devil,” and having played the piano since I was eight, I was beyond satisfied to be groovin’ to Jeff Chimenti’s succulent solos.

Good thing Sugar Magnolia followed the breathtaking “Stella Blue,” because I started crying again:

I’ve stayed in every blue-light cheap hotel, can’t win for trying.
Dust off those rusty strings just one more time,

Gonna make them shine, shine.

It all rolls into one and nothing comes for free,
There’s nothing you can hold for very long.
And when you hear that song come crying like the wind,
It seems like all this life was just a dream.

Stella blue. Stella blue.