Chicago!

Almost can’t believe that Chicago, and before that Santa Clara, and after that, well who knows, is nearly upon us. I’m not sure that there’s been a bigger story in the world of American Rock and Roll this year than the Fare Thee Well shows. History is about to be written.

But then, who’s history is it? Who does it belong to? Who gets the honor of chronicling these happenings, the stories and connections and recollections and precious memories that we are on the very cusp of creating, together?

I think the reality is that Fare Thee Well belongs to everyone who cares to care about it. If it matters to you, then it matters. Whether or not you are going to Chicago, or California. Whether or not you’ll catch a webcast or download the shows afterwards. Whether or not you read blog posts or reviews or plan to watch the action — and reaction — unfold on our precious social networks.

Whether or not you are a Deadhead or a Phishhead or some other sort of “head.”

It all comes down to who you are. I know what I am. I am a Phishhead, born in 1980, I never had much of a chance to catch The Dead, and never did. The Jerry Garcia I grew up with was the gray-haired maned, “Touch of Grey” Jerry. He was a heavenly creature floating among the clouds even before he passed away.

But it is because I am a Phishhead first, and almost anything else second, friend, lover, partner, collaborator, that is bringing me to Chicago. I am going to see my guy. My hero. My symbol.

Of Chicago, Trey said he was “performing a service.” Characteristic of Trey’s latter day humbleness and gratitude, this comment is of course correct. He’s helping Phil, Bobby, Bill and Mickey come together one last time. There will be more times, just as there has been these occasions in the past, but that doesn’t mean that Fare Thee Well isn’t the last show, the last go-round for The Dead. Endings have a way of slowly transforming into new beginnings, and we’d be good to remember that now, even though we can only see the end of things as they’ve been, we need to remember to cultivate the vision to see that Fare Thee Well isn’t about saying Goodbye. It’s about welcoming acknowledging a new paradigm.

In some ways, The Grateful Dead were the most successful rock band of all time. They may not have had the global fame of The Beatles, or the domination of Led Zeppelin, but all you need do is look around our scene, to see, hear and feel the fruits of their planting. Hundreds of bands, dozens of festivals, thousands of songs, every night in every city in this country, you can see a band that believes themselves to be carrying on the legacy of the dead.

Which brings us back to Trey. And Jerry. The musician’s alive in today’s jamband scene owe a gret debt of gratitude to Jerry of course, but also to Trey. For he alone had to wrestle with the idea of Jerry, and the Dead, as a young professional. For years and years, Trey had to contend with the fact that he couldn’t avoid the comparisons to the Dead. Every article, every review, every pre-show event listing in every newspaper and magazine. They did the lazy thing and used the cliche. Phish is like the Dead. Trey will never be Jerry. Where The Dead were authentic, Phish were absurd and comic. The Dead embodied the Bay Area. Phish was cute syrupy Vermont. Jerry’s tone was iconic, Trey was an imitator. Jerry could sing. Trey could squeak.

And yet and yet, Trey transcended, and learned the hardest lesson there is to learn, the lesson that only Jerry could ultimately teach him. The one that millions of DeadHeads only wished Jerry could learn himself. As a PhishHead, I am going to see Trey play the very music that for so much of his own life confounded him, obstructed him, blocked him from ascending as quickly as perhaps he deserved. Trey says he is doing us a service. I think I’ll take his word for it.

But let’s not forget that we are doing him a service too. By accepting him on that stage, by accepting his voice in place of Jerry Garcia, by standing where he will between Bobby and Phil, we are giving Trey something he’s waited his whole life for, even if he didn’t realize it until now.

And besides, as a Phish kid, Santa Clara and Chicago are just warm ups for Phish tour, which, like the Dead would have wanted, like Jerry surely told Trey one day, in dreams or reality, that the music never stopped.