Not Another Coventry Essay
I’ve always defended Coventry; why not? I was there, heck i quit my job to hit the last ten shows of 2.0. Not that i had a good job, graveyard shift attendant at a convience store. Looking back it cracks me up how we even made it to that show. We left Philly at noon on Friday. Got to Vermont that night and realized the highway was slammed, the radio told us all concert traffic had to use the main highway. I am a stickler for rules, don’t know where or when that started but it sure wasn’t there that day. I got out the atlas, 2004 folks, and navagated my phriend through the backest roads possible, we hit traffic a mere mile or so from the show on some road barely marked. Then it was wait, and wait we did. The Bunny brought the best through the night. I remember the joy of hearing the “last soundcheck ever” and other such gems. I took over driving in the morning and will never forget hearing Cat Power’s “Color and the Kids” as we pulled off the side road and onto the road leading into the event. Shortly after this we got word from Mike they would have to start turning away cars due to all the mud.
Unreal, I’ve been through some pretty bad traffic, Big Cypress nearly killed me. 28 total hours to get in, 22 without moving on Aligator Alley. I really never recovered from that; the only positive was that every other traffic jam seemed like a joke. The thing about waiting was that it didn’t matter cause everyone got in eventually, until now. The next thing i know a Vermont State Trooper drives by, not just any Vermont State Trooper, but a kid i graduated high school with in PA and who my sister was staying with before the fest so she could get in early as possible. The moment was a bit more surreal cause i had an after school special moment featuring that same Trooper at a “cool kid” party my senior year of high school. I had opened the door to the back porch and was intending to check out the scene there when i saw they were passing around a joint, i froze, being a straight edge punk rocker at the time. The future law enforcement officer proclaimed, “in or out Art?” I said “out” which was really in and closed the door retreating. Almost exactally ten years later I am in a line of cars being told by the former joint holding classmate that we would be the last line of cars allowed in. I was finally in; he was out, sort of, and i certianly would have had a different answer to his question on that day.
We set up camp and tried to make sense of what was going on. We found friends and everyone went there seperate ways. I really loved the shows. First night I thought was solid, the Drowned Jam struck me as odd with how low it got, i thought Trey was trying to bring in Ghost really slow. Ghost is my jam and i was hoping for one more which would happen the next night. I haven’t listened to the shows since seeing them, a bit when i got the cds i guess. This anniversery made me revisit them and now i see or hear that Trey wasn’t trying to do anything, he was wasted. I always will support and defend 2.0 because i really don’t mind the flubs in the composed sections, i am there for the improv and the moments unlocked or found out of nowhere, but relistening to these shows proved hard at times. Sure the highlights were still there and some of the Jams really got going. It was Page that mentioned in the IT dvd interviews that sometimes you have to push through 15 minutes of uninteresting jam to get to that moment, but if you don’t push through that stuff you never get the goods. Worst paraphrase ever. This essay is off the cuff, unresearched and unrehearsed, seemed fitting for the subject material.
I really had no intention of going to Coventry. I was living in Pittsburgh and Summer Tour really didn’t have any close weekend stops which was all i really could do so i decided to skip the whole summer and hope for better luck in the fall. Then came Trey’s letter. It really pissed me off, It sounded mean and made me glad it was over, he clearly was a mess and if he didn’t want to be in phish i sure as hell didn’t want to see them. That night I went to the Pittsburgh Arts Fest and saw MMW for free. I really enjoyed the show but it was missing something. I could dance to the music but it wasn’t phish and i wanted to dance to phish so bad it nearly killed me. I got home and saw Page’s letter. It made me cry. The tone was better and i felt his pain and wanted to thank him for restoring my faith in the last days of this band i loved. I immediately called my sister and we put together a Deer Creek/ Alpine Tour. Then found someone dumb enough to drive me to Great Woods/Camden/Coventry. The mystery pop up Hampton show nearly killed me. I had to pee at setbreak but the lines were massive and i can’t wait in line with set 2 looming, then after the show it was hightail it to pittsburgh to drop off a friend, then drive to parents home in northwest PA to jump into another friends car and head to Great Woods. I still hadn’t peed as we hit Great Woods. Tried again at set break but the lines, I mean sure i could have gone on the way, but it would have taken time, and when you are in the mist of a tour like that, time =song(s). Without allowing time for a bathroom break we still missed half of the Bag opener.
I ended up trying to walk home from Coventry after i found the very same person i was on tour with stealing from me. Everything was falling apart. He pulled away and i remained in my tent, trying to sleep a bit more. I awoke to a female voice, “I could always use another tent” as two girls tried to take my tent with me still in it. I told them it was spoken for they hurried away. I looked outside and realized i was the last person at Coventry, or at least pretty darn close. I started my walk home and people kept giving me rides. I never tried to get one, people were just being nice; Vermonters are amazing. This began my defense of the shows, as any ride i got from someone at the shows claimed they were horrid. This struck me as odd, I was there, the shows were amazing, or were they?
