Postcard from Philly
Listen to "Postcard" 7/11/08
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Widespread Panic - 7/11/08 Festival Pier at Penn's Landing, Philadelphia, PA
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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?