Charlie Dirksen & Ellis Godard of the Mockingbird Foundation conducted a quick Q&A with Mike Ayers, author of the new book Sharing in the Groove: The Untold Story of the ‘90s Jam Band Explosion and the Scene That Followed. Mike is a veteran music journalist who has written for places including Billboard, Rolling Stone, the Wall Street Journal, and Relix. This is his second book, following 2020’s One Last Song: Conversations on Life, Death and Music, which Variety picked as one of the best music books of the year.

Sharing in the Groove is told in an oral history format. Why did you decide to go this route?

I love these types of books and thought that this time period would be best explored this way… I was there during that time, obsessing about all the acts in the book, and I knew what was happening in the world I, the fan, was in. But not so much the artists. Once I started talking to people, it was clear that there were a lot of trials and tribulations that everyone was going through. It just validated that this approach was the best …people would learn more hearing it directly from the source versus me. Plus, do fans want to read a written narrative, driven by my thoughts? Probably not!

What are some of your favorite Phishy stories within?

Without giving too much away — because I think they come at such great moments, and knowing the context, make them even more powerful…. But there are some great moments that I love regarding the recording of Junta, Picture of Nectar, and Billy Breathes…plus the Clifford Ball and Big Cypress. There’s a story about recording “Esther” that is just ***chef’s kiss***.

Were there any moments from that era that you wanted to include, but didn't?

The two that stand out are the Halloween show from 10/31/1994, where the band did The White Album. I thought then, and still do, that this was a revolutionary moment in their career, and beyond it being special….was just a ballsy move. Not only are you tackling one of the greatest albums of all time, you’re actively putting that ahead of promoting Hoist, which I’m sure Elektra would rather have happened.

The other moment I wanted to tackle but just didn’t get enough insight and material, was the reasons behind touring Europe in ‘97 and ‘98…the stories from those monumental tours, and thoughts behind doing them, I was fascinated by. Both Phish and Widespread Panic headed to small places in Europe around the same time, and I remember having extreme FOMO about this. I did end up seeing the Barcelona ‘98 run, which was weird and awesome.

When was your first Phish show and why did it hook you?

My first show was 10/8/94 at the Patriot Center in Fairfax, Virginia. It was clear to me that night that this was a band making things for me, for us — people that were young and fed off the energy coming from the stage. That night, they brought out a young girl’s soccer team, who did their team chant, and left the stage … no context whatsoever! It was funny and creative and I was done.

The book ends with New Year's Eve 1999. Why did you want to end there?

It felt like we were on the close of something, but didn’t know exactly what. No one had the internet with them all the time. No one had a video camera with them all the time. Technology was moving things along, and certainly this scene thrived online at that point, but there was an innocence that was about to change. I hope that comes through.

What are the threads you see today that started in the '90s — with Phish or any band in the scene?

I love that live music is still on so many fans and artist’s minds, and that there isn’t a need for record labels for distribution or press, or the radio now. It really comes down to something that’s existed for a long time, and certainly did with all the acts in Sharing in the Groove: Can you play live? Will people want to keep seeing you? The answer then, for these acts in this book — and a lot of young acts that are finding audiences these days, is a resounding yes.

What was the first jamband show you saw other than Phish?

If you consider the Grateful Dead a jamband (and really, who doesn’t?)I saw them on March 18, 1993 at the Cap Centre, in Landover, Maryland (RIP). It was incredible. I saw Panic for the first time in early ‘95, MMW in ‘96, and lots and lots of Phish from 94-2000. Also lots of Panic and MMW.

When do you recall first hearing the word “jamband”?

That’s a good question — it seemed like it was a label that made it into the collective conscious by the middle to late ‘90s…People seemed to seek out a way to characterize you around your tastes… and for music, you were a jamband kid, and indie kid, a punk kid, a hardcare kid…the list goes on. I’m not sure that happens today, but it definitely did in the ‘90s.

Did jambands fill a gap, create a new space, or both?

I definitely think they did both — there was clearly an appetite for new styles of improv, new modes of playing, and the gap existed in that there wasn’t a lot of bands doing that. And at the same time, they created something new, that had its own influences that were beyond the Dead, which at the time, a lot of people couldn’t (or wouldn’t) recognize.

People like to imagine or pretend that improvisation was a 20th century thing, when it was actually an important component of what we now call “classical” music, until the emergence of jazz, not to mention tribal music back to antiquity. What (if anything) was different about jamband improvisation, that didn’t happen in classical, jazz, blues, bluegrass, or rock?

This will sound weird, but what was different is that it threw all of those influences together. That’s what was different. And it became hard to classify a band, especially a band like Phish, when they were doing all of these things, at every show… and like I just said, people and labels and radio stations and MTV…they really wanted to classify things. Sounds and songs and approaches were certainly rooted in the past, but at the same time, they were pushing things forward with this myriad of styles.

Dean Budnick’s mid-90s book on jambands explored more than 175 acts in this space, most of which don’t exist anymore. Have jambands had a higher or lower survival rate than other genres, or musical acts generally?

I’m not quite sure about the survival rates in other genres, but, all genres have tons of creative people trying to make a go, find an audience, and play to whoever is willing to listen. I think a lot of the early festivals in the ‘90s .. I’m thinking of H.O.R.D.E. and then things like Gathering of the Vibes, gave a home to younger acts when a lot of places wouldn’t. But it’s hard. There are acts in this book that fit that mold of falling off … and it wasn’t for a lack of trying. Lighting in a bottle is a hard thing to catch.

What are a few important factual nuggets that you uncovered, that this book contributes to the historical understanding of this space and of music generally?

The contributions that I’m most proud about revolve around how the jamband acts interacted with record labels and the industry at large — the ‘90s was this last moment of an old music industry model before the internet truly upended it… and these acts played live and gained a following, but they were also dealing with expectations outside of the live show that labels wanted for all of their acts. I see this as a David vs. Goliath story — and not only did David win back then, they’re still winning today.

Are there any important arguments the book makes, that diverge from previous understandings or ideas, or that confront them directly?

I think most importantly it shows how monumental and meaningful this movement was… and how much a DIY mentality played into it.

[BTW, we've recently updated this site's list of books about Phish.]

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