Posted by @ivy_light in the SBIX Essay Contest.

Nature, History, Music, Philosophy, and Knowledge: The Journey that was Superball IX

Thousands of years ago, slow-moving rivers of ice descended on North America. Along their slow, steady passage, they carved out the earth into rivers of gorges. Pushed forth ahead of them was a nutrient-rich milieu of soil. As the earth warmed and the glaciers melted, the deep cuts they made became filled with the pure, lush, clear water once trapped as ice. And the lush soil gave forth to rich forests bisected by pure waterfalls.

Nestled among the ancient cliffs and beside one of the glacial lakes lies a little town with a big musical history – Watkins Glen, New York. In 1973, an estimated 600,000 people descended on the small enclave to participate in what the Guinness Book of World Records would later claim to be the “largest audience at a pop festival”. Revelers from across the country flocked to the Watkins Glen International Speedway to see The Allman Brothers Band, The Band, and The Grateful Dead.

So began the town's journey down the path towards musical history.

In July, 2011, thousands congregated once again in Watkins Glen. Not for a NASCAR race, as the town had more recently become famous for. But rather for a celebration of art, music, and the grassroots community surrounding four talented musicians from Vermont comprising the band known as Phish. The three-day festival was not intended to be a revival of the Summer Jam of 1973. It was intended to be – and in fact was – a singular event showcasing the raw, natural abilities of this single band whose repertoire would more than occupy the approximately 9 hours of planned music. The event would add to the musical history of the ancient cliffs of Watkins Glen. The event was known as Superball IX.

It is understood that good music causes the release of dopamine into the pleasure centers of the brain. In this regard, good music is exactly like breathing and eating and sex. And when thousands and thousands together simultaneously get these little squirts of dopamine, the collective magic becomes palpable. The collection of several individual's musical experiences is much greater than even the sum of them. It's more like an exponential increase in intensity. At Superball IX, this is just what happened. This is how music “speaks to the soul”. It happened at beautiful Watkins Glen. And we were there.

Music is art. And that statement is a tautology. Art is what Phish created at Superball IX. Every time they step onto stage to play, new art – new knowledge – is generated. It is put forth into the universe to guide and inspire future listeners. Why do we listen to shows from years ago? Why do we spend our time and money trying to attend every concert we can? So we can gain new knowledge. Trey Anastasio, Mike Gordon, Page McConnell, and Jon Fishman are philosophers of sorts. And we're all just sitting at their feet collecting pearls of wisdom. Who knew learning could be so much fun?

Aside from the intellectual bits, there's the carnal nature that music inspires. We move to music. And – we just can't help it. This phenomenon doesn't have a name. “Dancing” is too rigid a word for what we do listening to Phish. We don't dance. We “groove”. When those first few notes of Moma Dance were struck (Friday, July 1, Set I), we couldn't help but contort our bodies into snake-like forms. Crosseyed and Painless (Friday, July 1, Set II) made us bounce and the improvisation that proceeded it led us into a new realm of musical reality. And I challenge anyone to not move toBoogie On Reggae Woman or the cowfunk beats of Back On the Train (Saturday, July 2, Set I). By contrast, Scents and Subtle Sounds (Saturday, July 1, Set II) wrapped a warm blanket around us and let us drift off for a while, breathing the cool, lake-scented air, eyes closed, mind cleared. But then we were back, flying high in the sky again, racing against an unknown force in Run Like An Antelope (Saturday, July 2, Set II).

Saturday, July 2, Set III was the time to let loose any inhibition to move that may have been left. Golden Agereminded us all why we were there: to celebrate music, art, and – appropriate given that it was Canada Day and July 4th weekend – freedom. The jam that followed took on several new dimensions as it evolved: funk, ambient, jazz.Harry Hood once again brought us all together, as it always does. We all know the tune so well but it's different every time. The glowsticks flew. We jumped and danced in a chaotic unison of sorts. It made sense to me then. And it makes sense to me now.

The Ball Square Jam (Saturday, July 2, Set IV) epitomized the concept of music as knowledge. An entirely new musical experience. It encompassed clear aspects of jazz, ambient noise, funk, and standard rock beats. It was no doubt ahead of its time. The segue to Sleeping Monkey was innovative and flawless. The Jam has already taken it's place in the pantheon of Phish music-making.

By Sunday, we were exhausted. But nothing could stop us or the band from forming that collective energy that had permeated the weekend. Colonel Forbin's Ascent > Narration > Fly Famous Mockingbird (Sunday, July 3, Set I) reminded us all that these guys up on stage, playing for 10s of thousands of people, were just like us. Imaginative, familial, human. The jams arising from Destiny Unbound, Mound, and Wilson (all Sunday, July 3, Set I) added to the standard melodic forms of these songs. It was different. Even for Phish.

If the previous sets had put us in an emotional and ecstatic frenzy, Set II on Sunday July 3 was the coup d'etat. Now was the time to celebrate. To lionize youth, freedom, music, creativity, nature, and hope. Big Balls started us off just right. It was a commemoration of the weekend. A fun reminder that we sometimes take life too seriously and that sometimes it's a good thing to appreciate a “single entendre”. Down With Disease always reminds us that there's a brighter future and that we each harbor the capacity to reach our dreams. We rocked to Party Time, got down to Ghostand Gotta Jibboo (no really, I have to Jibboo), and we all simultaneously venerated the Vienna sausage withMeatstick.

But to end it all, Phish reminded us exactly why we paid our $250, forewent showers for 3 days, ate nothing but veggie burritos, baked in the sun, and danced until we were sore and tired – and that was to ROCK. As I stared at the fireworks with First Tube filling my ears, I shed a tear (really!). It had been one of the best weekends of my life and certainly one of the most fulfilling physically, mentally, and spiritually. And as I sit here typing this, I feel refreshed. I feel grounded. I feel like I was part of something special. In a special, ancient, beautiful, historical place. I feel like I found myself.

All my love to those who were there and those we missed: @SLOTHelot, @taste4fee, @conradjohansen,@bostonron77, @IenjoyMyself, @CinnamonGirl, @yoursongtoo, @sethadam1, @castinajig, @waterinthesky,@johnnyd, @CaptainPookie, @mmetch, and all the rest.

An extra special shout out to my favorite show-buddy, @phishybanjo

“Come waste your time with me.”

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