Postcards: Live Widespread Panic Blog

Sharon 7/23/08 Myrtle Beach

The third night at the Myrtle Beach House of Blues found a restless crowd and a chatty band ready to go. The show started with AIN'T LIFE GRAND > WALK ON THE FLOOD, REBIRTHA > BIG CHIEF JAM (the first in exactly nine years) > RIBS AND WHISKEY. And while the music wasn't as dark as the beginning of the previous night's show, it was equally as strong, particulary REBIRTHA through RIBS AND WHISKEY. Gradually, the music grew darker as Panic finished the set with CASA DEL GRILLO, LOW RIDER > PAPA'S HOME > DRUMS > HATFIELD > PAPA'S HOME.

"This song is by a very good friend, Mr. Vic Chesnutt," said JB before the band played LET'S GET DOWN TO BUSINESS to start the second set. And then JB introduced SEND YOUR MIND by saying, "This one's by a very, very, very good friend we have never met, Mr. Van Morrison." The elongated SECOND SKIN that followed really got the crowd swaying and moving, which didn't slow as Panic then launched into DISCO > IMITATION LEATHER SHOES > RADIO CHILD.

Next up was THREE CANDLES. And then Jerry Joseph, who covered Guns N' Roses' PARADISE CITY later in the night at the HOB restaurant, was called to the stage. While they all tuned their instruments, Schools tried to get someone in the crowd to throw his Syd Barrett T-shirt to Todd to no avail. ("Look, he wants the Syd Barrett shirt, and he'll pay for it, all right?") While I was hoping for something dark and brooding, like last October's collaboration on ROAD TO DAMASCUS in Portland, I was no less pleased with LIGHT IS LIKE WATER. JB must've been pleased, too, because at the song's conclusion, he said, "Jerry motherfucking Joseph, everybody. He was with us since before the beginning."

Once Jerry left the stage, Panic went right into DRIVING SONG and then into the triumphant return of BREATHING SLOW. You've got to give Jimmy credit: For someone so talented, he has no problem reading sheet music on stage. (I suspect lots of guitarists wouldn't do that.) The second set ended with a strong rendition of FLICKER.

It was only fitting that the first song of the encore was David Bromberg's SHARON. As far as "the same rowdy crowd that was here last night is back again," this was probably the rowdiest crowd I'd been a part of since last year at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville. The song started out as boisterous as ever, but it ended slowly and quietly with JB in full-on crooner mode. A quick GIVE, with guitars blaring, followed. And then it was over. As the lights came on, a Hank Williams Jr. song everyone—except me—seemed to know blared over the PA, and I thought about another of my favorite bands, the Band. And to paraphrase them: "Look out Charlotte, there's a storm coming through."

"Vacation" 7/19/08

We drove down the Eastern Shore of the Chesapeake Bay, crossing over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, a 23-mile engineering marvel of bridges and tunnels, before landing in Porstmouth, Va., a small, Southern city situated hard on the banks of the Elizabeth River. It was hot and sunny and seemed like as a good a day as any to see Widespread Panic. Seating was general admission, so we found a spot near the center of the floor as the venue slowly filled with girls in dresses and guys in collared shirts.

The show opened with Jerry Joseph's reggae-tinged CHAINSAW CITY and then moved onto compact versions of HEROES, WALKIN' (FOR YOUR LOVE) and TIME ZONES before an elongated BIG WOOLLY MAMMOTH. After playing Bloodkin's WHO DO YOU BELONG TO? and "ripping off Bob Dylan" with TICKLE THE TRUTH, the band invited violinist Ann Marie Calhoun to join them onstage to close the set with ANGELS ON HIGH, THE TAKE OUT > PORCH SONG. I was thrilled to hear a fiddle added to the mix, but with the sounds of '97 Panic accompanied by David Blackmon in my head, I wanted more. Fortunately, there was more to come.

JB opened the set with a brief warning: "You all look kind of mushed up there. Be careful of one another now. Unless that's the way you like it," and then went right into FROM THE CRADLE (BLACK HOLE on the band's set list), which, for me, is a perfect way to open a set. From there, the band began to stretch out the music, with WONDERING > BLACKOUT BLUES, AUNT AVIS > YOU SHOULD BE GLAD following the opener. Ann Marie, who seemed as gracious as she is talented, came back out and things really took off. ("Well, since Ann Marie's back, I think I'll tune up," said JB.)

So often when someone sits in with a band, that person interacts with whoever is playing the same instrument. But that's not what this was like. Just like with Robert Randolph sitting in at Bonnaroo, Ann Marie interacted with the entire band. Her sound complemented Panic's rather than sounding like an addition, taking the songs, SURPRISE VALLEY > VACATION (!!!) > DRUMS (which, obviously, she didn't play on) > SURPRISE VALLEY > CITY OF DREAMS, to a different place. (I could listen to this VACATION on a loop all day long.)

Fortunately, at intermission, I was able to move to a uniquely close vantage point, which allowed me to notice things I probably never would have. And during the second set, the most obvious thing was how much fun everyone onstage was having. It was smiles all around, especially when Ann Marie was fiddling away between JB and Jimmy. The other thing I noticed was the eye contact and head nods used to signal the direction of a song. And when it came to the elongated HENRY PARSONS DIED (with a GREEN ONIONS jam in the middle) closer and the nearly 25-minute encore, NONE OF US ARE FREE and RIDERS ON THE STORM, that direction was simple—keep moving forward. (It's worth checking out this show for the interplay between the guitars and fiddle on RIDERS alone.)

As we made the drive north the next morning, I began to think about whether I should try to make it to Myrtle Beach when I remembered what JB said just before the encore: "I do not know what the question was, but the answer is yes."

Listen to "Postcard" 7/11/08

Stream samples of the whole show:

After living in New York City for the previous 12 years, I’ve found myself in a small beach town this summer, which means I haven’t seen much live music recently. So I jumped at the chance to see Panic in Philadelphia on Friday. But to be clear, Philadelphia and I haven’t always gotten along. I mean, sure, I’ve got some friends from there—and I do love cheesesteaks—but other than that, all I’ve ever really gotten out of Philly is a bunch of argumentative sports fans and, as a 14-year-old on my way out of the Vet, a punch to the back of the head by a Philbilly at least twice my age and three times my weight.

So perhaps my previous experiences colored my expectations for Friday’s show. Fortunately, the opening licks of SURPRISE VALLEY, sounding stronger than they have in years, allayed my fears, as did the band’s smooth segues into PORCH SONG and then back into SURPRISE. For the most part, the rest of the set, ROCK, TICKLE THE TRUTH, CAN’T GET HIGH, FREE SOMEHOW, DOWN, TIME ZONES and the late, great Warren Zevon’s LAWYERS, GUNS AND MONEY, was played straightforward with just a bit of jamming. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.)

The Festival Pier at Penn's Landing, which is situated along the Delaware River, is a cool spot, but, strangely, it faces away from the water. (That decision seemed particular curious when, during the second set, there was a brief fireworks exhibition over the Ben Franklin Bridge few concertgoers saw.) As the second set began, the weather was clear and perfect. And beneath a black-and-white cookie of a moon and a starry, cloudless sky, Widespread Panic began to lay it down.

Johnny Neel, formerly of the Allman Brothers Band and others, joined together with the band following DISCO. And his sit-in on FISHWATER, the Meters’ IT AIN’T NO USE and YOU SHOULD BE GLAD launched the rest of the show. He and JoJo played side-by-side, with the sounds from their two sets of keys weaving together and apart, driving the show from a slow-burning groove toward the swagger of POSTCARD, AIRPLANE > PROTEIN DRINK > SEWING MACHINE, NORTH to end the set.

At times it was jammy, at times it was loud and at times it was aggressive. But for most of it, Jimmy, looking like Santa Claus on Atkins, played like he was in charge; his lead more searing than lingering. And the enthusiastic crowd—not huge, but tightly packed—cheered its response.

The encore, the hard-charging WALK ON THE FLOOD followed by the Talking Heads’ CITY OF DREAMS, capped off a silky first set and a furious second one, leaving smiling faces to sing into the night.

Philly, man. Who knew?

The tour opener in LA was a riotous affair.  Sample here:

Surprise Valley