Since the jam chart team has just published a revised chart for Ghost, we thought it would be informative, and perhaps even interesting (for some) to learn more about the process of updating a major jam chart. Ghost is a cherished, fan-favorite jamming song. Going in to this process, we knew that the results would be closely scrutinized, debated, and that we would draw the ire of those who disagree with some of our decisions, like which versions to highlight.

Why did we even feel the need to tinker with the Ghost jam chart? First, the former Ghost chart was assembled in a hurried and somewhat haphazard manner, part of a much larger effort to introduce a new and improved jam chart format that occurred in December 2013. Second, a quick glance at the (now) former chart gave us reason to believe that the chart was overlooking important versions, and underrepresenting particular years. Consider these statistics: the former chart had thirteen versions from 1997 and two from 1999. Likewise, 2003 and 2004 were represented by five total versions, and we inherently knew that the 2.0 era is particularly strong from a jamming perspective. So we set out to do a comprehensive review of all 133 live performances of Ghost, seeking to ensure that a revised chart did not overlook any strong improvisational versions, and that the final chart would reflect the entire performance history of Ghost, covering the high water marks across all years and eras. The team consisted of Marty Acaster (@Doctor_Smarty), Pete Skewes-Coxe (@ucpete), Andrew Stavely (@Westbrook) and me. Below is a description of the processes we employed:

Preparation - Before starting, we wanted to establish whether there is a typical and formulaic pattern to the jam found in most versions of Ghost. After some healthy and heated debate, we concluded that yes, many versions of Ghost share a similar structure. In the typical version, the jam begins with some funky, rocking or exploratory grooving. Then there is a shift, a "release" or "opening" of the jam to a more upbeat, blissful sentiment. I use these self-coined descriptive terms with caution; I am not a musician, and I am certain that musicians, students of music theory and others could provide a more appropriate and accurate term for the shift in mood that seems to happen in most Ghost jams. In addition, while the typical Ghost does follow this basic pattern, the band uses a variety of tecniques to achieve it. Sometimes, the play remains in minor mode throughout, despite this shift to a more upbeat feel. Other times, for example in the version from 12/31/10, there is a clear shift to major mode, which accentuates the blissful nature of the latter part of the jam.

Once we established (at least amongst ourselves) that there is a fundamental pattern to most Ghost jams, we set out to review the 133 versions of Ghost with two goals in mind: 1) to identify the strong, objectively different versions of Ghost which deviate from this normal structure; and 2) to identify the subjectively better versions of Ghost which conform to the typical jamming pattern. The review process was divided into four sequences of review and decision making. These included:

Round 1 - we divided the 133 versions of Ghost evenly among the four of us, and assigned each person a mix of versions from different periods and years. The logic behind assigning each person a mix of versions was two-fold: 1) it would be unfair to everyone else if one person was assigned all of 1997; and 2) when considering a chart encompassing the performance history of a song, it's helpful to listen to versions from different periods, taking note of changes in the style and focus of the jamming. The principal instruction for Round 1 was simply to identify the absolute, must-be-on-chart, no-brainer type versions, like 11/17/97, 5/22/00, and 11/28/09. In addition, each member was also asked to rate his other versions a "no" - not for chart, or a "maybe." For maybe versions, people were asked to assign a weighting of high, medium or low.

Round 2 - of the versions that were voted "yes" or must-be-on-chart in Round 1 (33), we reviewed and cut this list to the 18 versions we felt were indisputable chart material - those mentioned above and others like 7/2/98 and 9/12/99. The remaining 15 yes versions from Round 1 were combined with the 14 highly rated maybe versions to make up the pool for Round 2. To further ensure that we did not miss any quality versions with chart potential, we elevated four versions to Round 2 that we felt had possibly been overlooked or underrated in Round 1. Finally, each participant got to pick one version, a personal favorite or one he thought should get another listen, and add it to the Round 2 pool. It turns out that this last measure was a good one. Several versions that made the final chart arrived there after receiving a rating of less than a high maybe in Round 1, including 12/11/99 and 12/31/09. In all, the pool of versions to review in Round 2 totaled 37.

In Round 2, every version was assigned to two new listeners who had not heard this version in the first round. Versions which received two affirmative yes votes in Round 2 were elevated to the final jam chart. Versions which received one or more maybe votes in Round 2 were pushed to Round 3. In other words, in order to make the jam chart in Round 2, a version needed to be rated a yes or high maybe in Round 1, and then receive unanimous yes votes from the new listeners in Round 2. At the end of Round 2, the jam chart had increased from 18 after Round 1 to 40 total versions. 22 of the 37 Round 2 versions were approved for the jam chart, while the remaining 15 were pushed out to the next cycle of review.

Round 3 - every one of the 15 versions that made up the Round 3 pool had received at least one maybe vote in a previous round. In many cases, these Round 3 versions had received two or even three maybe votes. Looking through this list, as a group, we decided that none of these versions was as strong or as clear-cut in definitively belonging on the chart as the ones that had moved up in Round 2. So we came up with a process for picking the final jam chart versions from this group of 15 “fence straddlers.” Of the 15, we picked 5 versions, bringing the total revised chart to 46 versions, or 45 jamming versions plus the debut (we always include the debut version in major charts). By coincidence and not by intention, 46 versions is precisely the same number of versions as appeared on the former chart.

Highlighted Versions - finally, we went through several mechanisms to determine which versions should be highlighted. Initially, everyone was instructed to vote for 12 versions. After compiling the votes, there were nine versions which had received unanimous support (4 votes). After those nine however, the results became more unclear. There were a couple of versions where the voting split down the middle - two people voted for version X and did not vote for version Y. The other two voted for version Y but did not vote for version X. One person suggested we do a vote in which each rank our choices for highlighting, from first to last. By assigning a successively lower numerical value to every placement vote below first place, we hoped to determine if this method would better indicate a consensus on which versions to highlight. In truth, this second process to pick highlighted versions helped to clarify some things, only to confuse others. We went through several additional iterations of voting for highlighted versions. When we finally concluded the highlighting process, everyone was very comfortable not only with the versions we selected, but also felt we did not leave any deserving versions unhighlighted.

The Revised Jam Chart for Ghost - as a group, we feel strongly that this revised chart is better and more fully representative of Ghost's prominent improvisational history than its predecessor was. Nearly 40% of the versions on this chart are new. In general, there are more versions from 1999 and the 2.0 era than before, and slightly fewer versions from 1997 and the 3.0 era. In addition, there are 11 completely new versions, ones which have never appeared on any previous version of a Ghost chart. A great example of these completely new versions is the Ghost from 7/30/99. A 22 minute improvisational behemoth, this particular version may have escaped general attention because back in the days of "tape trading," few copies of the recording from this Niigata, Japan show circulated. Also making a showing for the first time are two excellent versions from July, 2003. And there are several strong versions from the 3.0 era that have not previously appeared on any Ghost jam chart. Everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion about the content of the new chart. But for the four most directly involved in assembling this chart, we feel satisfied that the final product is more comprehensive than its predecessor was.

A final note: We fully expect to draw criticism from some circles about versions that were included or not included on the chart, and chart versions that were highlighted or not highlighted. Criticism is welcome and an expected result of an effort like this one, especially for a song as near and dear to many as Ghost. Having said that, we strongly encourage you to take some time, and listen to every version of Ghost on the revised chart, as we have. If you do, you may discover some fantastic versions you haven't heard before. And you may come to better understand the rationale behind some of our decisions, even if you disagree with these selections. Regardless, Ghost is rightfully celebrated as one of the premier Phish jamming songs, and we sincerly hope the new chart helps you to more easily navigate and enjoy the many great versions that exist.

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We at Phish.net were greatly saddened to hear of the untimely death of phan Harris Wittels, host of the hilarious Analyze Phish podcast and writer for Parks and Recreation (among many other comedic endeavors). To remember him, we turned to Nathan Rabin, author of You Don't Know Me But You Don't Like Me, a memoir of his experiences following Phish and the Insane Clown Posse. Nathan appeared on Episode 7 of Analyze Phish to discuss his book and attempt to help Harris convince co-host Scott Auckerman of Phish's greatness. He is the former head writer for The A.V. Club and currently a staff writer at The Dissolve.

Remembering Harris Wittels

By Nathan Rabin (@nathanrabin)

At the age of 30, Harris Wittels had the kind of credits men twice his age would be proud to claim. He’d written for three of the best, most groundbreaking and beloved sitcoms of the past twenty years in The Sarah Silverman Program, Eastbound & Down and Parks & Recreation, where he was an Executive Producer and could be found in some episodes wearing a Phish tee shirt and playing a hapless guy named Harris.

Harris was an essential part of the Comedy Bang Bang podcast before fusing two of his great loves: podcasting and Phish, into his brilliant podcast Analyze Phish. As if all that weren’t impressive enough for one lifetime he was also a gifted stand-up comedian, talented drummer with Don’t Stop Or We’ll Die, a columnist at Grantland, the coiner of the term of Humblebrag and the author of the book spun off the column.

Yet Harris was so much more than the sum of his incredible credits that it felt maddening and reductive to see obituary headlines that referred to him as a Parks & Recreation producer or Humblebrag coiner because the whole of Wittels was so much greater than the sum of its remarkable parts.

You would think a man who had accomplished so much at such a young age would be confident to the point of cockiness but you would be hard-pressed to find a comedy professional more humble and unassuming than Harris. He was the boy next door as a subversive comic genius. I first encountered Harris as a guest on Comedy Bang Bang in 2009, shortly before I began a Phish journey chronicled in my book You Don’t Know Me But You Don’t Like Me and was immediately impressed.

Part of the joy of listening to Harris on Comedy Bang Bang lie in host Scott Aukerman’s palpable delight in Wittels' comedy. He was a true original, a Phish die-hard who delivered anti-comedy jokes in a deadpan monotone. Wittels’ jokes often inspired a strange sort of double laughter: you laughed at the absurd stupidity of the jokes he debuted in a Comedy Bang Bang feature alternately known as Harris’ phone corner or Harris’ foam corner, and then you laughed again at yourself for laughing at something so exquisitely, transcendently silly and stupid.

Harris made his debut on Comedy Bang Bang shortly before I began my Phish journey at the band’s New Year’s Eve run in Miami at the turn of the last decade and while the timeline with all things Phish tends to be a little fuzzy, I was encouraged that someone so smart and funny and plugged in to all the things I’m passionate about shared my enthusiasm for the band. Before I ever had the honor of meeting Harris I thought of him as a kindred spirit with an awful lot in common. We were both Jewish, Phish fans, comedy geeks and entered the big leagues of comedy at a ridiculously early age (I was 21 when I started writing for The A.V Club, he was around the same age when he started writing for The Sarah Silverman Program) and we’d both coined phrases we felt ambivalent about: Harris had humble brag, I coined the phrase Manic Pixie Dream Girl and lived to regret it.

Aukerman would tease Harris about his love of Phish during his appearances on Comedy Bang Bang; he had a hard time wrapping his mind around the idea that someone he clearly admired liked music whose appeal he could not understand. That was the impetus behind Analyze Phish where the roles were reversed and Harris was the host (or your “tour guide through the cosmos” to quote his opening spiel) and Aukerman was the perpetually underwhelmed guest Wittels was quixotically attempting to get into the band.

I was reluctant to listen to Analyze Phish because I strongly suspected that it would do what I was attempting to do with my book—provide an outsider’s look into Phish that was irreverent on the surface but sincere, earnest, emotional and sweet underneath—so brilliantly that I would feel even worse about the stumbling, halting progress I was making on my book.

My fears were not unfounded: Analyze Phish was just as great as I had feared/hoped but when the sneering cynics over at Vice ran one of those awful, predictably loathsome “Phish is the worst band ever and their fans are all drug-addled losers” pieces we were invited at The A.V. Club (where I worked at the time) to write a response. My essay focused on how what Wittels and Aukerman were doing on Analyze Phish—explore the value of Phish in a way that was honest and informed and rooted in friendship and open-mindedness rather than cynical contempt—was of infinitely more worth than Vice’s asshole cynicism (the internet being the internet, my defense of Phish got about a one hundredth of the response the Vice piece did).

Wittels was, in my mind, the best kind of Phish fan: passionate, smart, engaged and eager to spread the gospel of his favorite band but not in an oppressive or overbearing way. So I was probably more excited than I should have been when he began following me on Twitter. I sent him a copy of my book and was overjoyed that he liked it so much that he volunteered to write a blurb for it, though Harris being Harris, it was as much a blurb for Phish and the Phish experience as it was for my strange little tome.

Harris' blurb made me feel like I was doing something right, that despite the many wrong turns I’d made in the project, it resonated with people who were smart and funny and loved Phish. So when I was preparing to do press for You Don’t Know Me But You Don’t Like Me I was overjoyed when Aukerman and Wittels invited me to appear on Analyze Phish.

I was such a huge podcasting dork that I showed up for my Analyze Phish appearance wearing a Comedy Bang Bang tee-shirt. The analogy I keep coming back to when I think about having done a podcast with Wittels and Aukerman is a fan being invited onstage to jam with Phish: I wasn’t arrogant enough to imagine that I could actually add anything to the mix, I just didn’t want to be an embarrassing distraction.

So even though I was ostensibly on the show as a guest and an expert going on a parallel journey with Aukerman, I was really just there as a fan: a fan of Phish but also a fan of Wittels and Aukerman. Though I am almost a decade older than Wittels and he was as unassuming as comic geniuses come, I was intimidated by him. So it was honestly just a joy being around people who were so good at what they did and enjoyed each other’s company so much. It was a pleasure just to be around Wittels as he experienced a surge of childlike joy at being able to talk about Phish with people who shared his love for them.

I was invited to go to the Hollywood Bowl show with Harris and Aukerman and Paul F. Tompkins and for months I tried to convince myself that I would be able to afford to fly to Los Angeles and put myself up in a hotel solely to see a Phish show with my favorite podcasters but ultimately I realized that I would have to choose between going to the Hollywood Bowl show or paying my mortgage for the month, and having engaged in flagrant irresponsibility and borderline craziness while writing You Don’t Know Me But You Don’t Like Me, I could no longer afford to be irresponsible, literally and figuratively.

So I reluctantly begged off and Shelby Fero ended up going in my place. I would love to call Harris a friend; I thought it would be amazing to go to Phish shows and talk Phish with him and just generally bask in the reflected glow of his genius and accomplishments. But there was a big part of me that thought I was not worthy of being friends with somebody so cool, funny, talented and accomplished. I thought it was safer to be a fan than a friend because with friendship comes reciprocity and work and I have never been good at making or sustaining friendships.

So I continued to admire Harris from afar and was as gob-smacked as everyone else when he went on You Made It Weird not too long ago to talk about his struggles with drug addiction and his experimentation with heroin. As with Owen Wilson, I was shocked that someone so seemingly goofy and silly, someone who had everything in the world to live for, could experience such profound and debilitating depression. I write that as someone who has written two memoirs partially about my own battles with depression. I wanted Harris to derive the same joy from his work and his personality as his fans and friends and colleagues did.

So I was devastated to discover that at age 30, and with his career barely started, Harris was dead. And I wish I’d made more of an effort to be a friend to him instead of just an admirer because you never know when your chance to form a real relationship with someone you care about will end permanently.

So when you think about Harris Wittels in the years and decades ahead, whether it’s when you’re at a Phish show or listening to a bootleg or watching Parks & Recreation, remember the incredible light that drew people to Harris and the obsessions he advocated for so passionately rather than the darkness that eventually consumed him.

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On Tuesday, February 3, 2015, the improvisational rock community lost a brilliant and generous man in Eric Vandercar. While commuting home from work to his wife, his teenage son, and young daughter, Eric’s northbound train hit a car at a crossing in Westchester County, NY. It was the deadliest train crash in the history of the Metro-North line, which is the second most-ridden commuter railroad in America (second only to the Long Island Rail Road).

For several decades, Eric taped and circulated the shows of many bands, including Phish, Grateful Dead, moe., Spin Doctors, The Radiators, and others. Copies of several hundred of the shows that he taped circulate on the Live Music Archive, for example. His love of the music so many of us share in common cannot be overstated. And his generosity in circulating that music was, and continues to be, both magnificent and inspiring.

Sue Weiand, one of our community’s most well-known (and beloved) photographers, first met Eric online through the newsgroup Rec.Music.Gdead. “We finally met in person at a Radiators show in San Francisco in 1996, and then again at High Sierra in 1998,” Sue recalls. “Eric was a world-renowned taper and, in early 1997, he advised many of his California friends to check out a band, moe., who would be playing their first west coast show soon at the Great American Music Hall. About 25 of us went on Eric’s recommendation alone. Eric was a great friend to musicians and fans alike, and he will be sorely missed.”

A well-known taper in the Phish community, Lenny Stubbe, was a friend of Eric's for many years, first meeting Eric on Rec.Music.Gdead in January 1996, and in person for the first time at the Clifford Ball, where he patched out of Eric's fantastic rig for the recordings that can be found here and here. Lenny writes: “ev was my taping mentor and a long-time friend. He set the example of how to live life while doing it to the absolute fullest. His wit, humor, generosity, and passion for anything he did, and his loyalty to everything important, was like no other. With ev, anything was possible, and he made you feel that way. He taught me a ton and challenged me to set the bar very high. From meticulous tape lists to raising kids and everything in-between, he did it all to the highest level. I will never forget my friend, and the huge impact he had on me as a person, in and outside of music. Peace, further my brother.”

Photo © Stephanie May, with thanks to The Capitol Theatre and Mike Winters

Eric taped many shows at the legendary Capitol Theatre in Port Chester, NY, not far from his home. Eliot Byron works as the Stage Manager and Crew Chief at the Theatre, and knew Eric well. “Eric was a part of my GD and Phish taping family as long as I can remember,” Eliot reflects. “We had such great conversations throughout the years... Gear, family, travel, SCUBA. I was so excited to see him every time he and Jill came to the Capitol Theatre. We all love the venue so much, and I am blessed to be a part of It, and to have Eric refer to it as one of his favorite spots was just a bonus.”

Craig Hillwig, who taped many Phish shows with Schoeps mics, including 12/31/95, also remembers Eric fondly. “You hear a lot about Eric and his taping and his relationships with moe. and the rads. But first and foremost, Eric was a Deadhead. He absolutely loved Jerry. His first show was 11/5/79 at the Spectrum, and if he ever got jaded at the end, he didn't let on. When I saw him at his last Dead shows in Albany in June ‘95, he was looking forward to getting that ‘Help on the Way’ (and we got it - the very last one). He was just getting into taping in 1995, and right before he bought his B&K's, Jerry died. Eric took Jerry's death hard. Most people don't realize it or remember it today, but Eric helped organize the Central Park memorial for Jerry, posting to Usenet and the Berkeley listserv (you can see some of the posts here http://hake.com/gordon/latest.html). We became pretty good friends after that event.

“Eric had this tag line that he used to close his correspondence: ‘peace, further ...’ It was his nod to the spirit of Kesey and Cassidy and the Grateful Dead - that life is a journey, and something to be explored, and we just have to choose to get on the bus. He used it in emails and in Rec.Music.Gdead posts. He even had cards made. Please visit his memorial page on FB: http://www.facebook.com/EricVandecarRIP."

Taper Scott Bernstein also knew Eric well. "Eric and I met back in 1995, after I'd seen an announcement on the Rec.Music.Gdead usenet group about an offshoot email listserv being started specifically for NYC area Deadheads (which was apparently started after a conversation between Eric and Rod Nayfield, who still maintains the list to this day). Shortly after joining the NYCHeads list, I'd see his email address pop up in my inbox frequently as he was voluntarily maintaining a subjective 'NYC Concert Calendar' of what he judged to be good upcoming shows and he would distribute it on the list each week. He created that calendar not because anyone had asked him to, but because he wanted to help build a community, and help promote good music. It was a time when we were all hurting from the loss of Jerry Garcia, and it felt great to feel like part of a community to enjoy great local live music with. Very quickly I started emailing him to add good shows that I knew about that he hadn't listed in the calendar.

"Our first meeting in the flesh came when I had a videotape that I needed dubbed (someone had lent me a VHS master of G. Love & Special Sauce from Tempe, AZ) and I sent out a kind of 'Hail Mary' email to the NYCHeads list, because I figured some Deadhead must have had 2 VCRs to dub tapes. Sure enough, Eric selflessly volunteered. He had no desire to make a copy for himself -- he just that had the ability to help, so he did. After that, we became very close very quickly, starting by trading lots of Grateful Dead DAT tapes in a short period of time. Both of us were always trying to collect the best sources with known lineage for our favorite shows.

Photo © 1996, Courtesy of Scott Bernstein (ev and Scott packing up ev's car at The Clifford Ball 8/16-17/1996. Note ev's GD tribute vanity license plate.)

"I had the distinct honor of introducing Eric to what would eventually become his favorite band -- moe. After getting bitten by the moe. bug myself on 7/8/95 at Wetlands (thanks to gentle pressure from their FOH soundguy at the time Brendan O'Neill -- also a major Dead/Phish head), I was really trying to spread the word. So come 12/21/95, I convinced Eric to join me at Wetlands for an Al Schnier solo show, and he wasn't especially impressed. Fortunately just a few months later Eric happened to be with friends in Jackson Hole, WY, for a ski trip and moe. just happened to be playing at the Mangy Moose that weekend (https://archive.org/details/moe1996-03-15), and they went just to have something fun to do. Since they had not planned on attending any music, Eric didn't even have his taping gear with him. Sure enough he came back from this trip raving and was now sold, attending the Irving Plaza moe. show (https://archive.org/details/moe1996-04-06dnk.shn) just about a month later! Over the years, Eric and his wife Jill became such a presence at moe. shows, they grew to have a strong personal relationship with all of the band members, their crew, and their management (not unlike their close personal relationship with the Radiators).

"We had a grand old time sharing music with each other. Eric got me to see many more Radiators shows than I would have seen otherwise, got me to join him for a number of They Might Be Giants shows around NYC (another of Eric's favorite bands), and gave me my first introduction to Anders Osborne when he put Anders' set from High Sierra '96 as filler on a David Grisman DAT from the same festival that he was trading with me. We shared a love of funk (especially of the New Orleans variety), but Eric also loved Neil Young, and indie rock like Lou Reed, The Meat Puppets, and most recently, Snow Patrol.

Photo © 2014 Erick "eaphoto" Anderson (ev, and Scott Bernstein, with Bob Mischka in the background, setting up to tape in the "FOB section" at Randall's Island, 7/13/2014)

"From that point on we attended show after show together -- moe. shows all over the northeast, Spin Doctors shows (another band that we both shared a love for), Phish concerts (including heading to the Clifford Ball and Red Rocks together in 1996), hippie music festivals, the New Orleans Jazz Festival (which he and Jill attended religiously), and numerous shows of bands like Bela Fleck and the Flecktones, Medeski Martin and Wood, Ani Difranco, Dan Bern, Galactic, George Porter, The Meters (+ Funky Meters), Ivan Neville and his band Dumpstaphunk, The New Mastersounds (which I introduced Eric to early on by scheduling my bachelor party at one of their very early NYC shows), Guster, Dave Matthews Band, The Allman Brothers, Soulive, anything Warren Haynes related, and many more. The list goes on and on of the shows we saw and taped together over the years. We were also partners in crime in the occasional 'stealth' taping job at shows we were not permitted to tape or share around openly. One of the more surprising, highly sought after, and rarely circulated recordings of Eric's was from a very late night Prince show at Irving Plaza!

"I also give credit to Eric for twisting my arm in to give Phish another chance after I'd put myself on a self-imposed hiatus from seeing them after I'd been severely let down at the 2 Radio City Music Hall shows in 2000. Eric presented me with an impossible-to-get ticket for their return show (after their first hiatus) on 12/31/02. I had no intention or desire to attend (and in fact already had tickets to both the early and late Karl Denson shows at BB Kings Blues Club here in NYC), but yet he persuasively convinced me to attend after someone in his group backed out. I still didn't feel connected to the show, and it did not pull be back into the Phish sphere. It took my wife Jen to pull me back in at Jones Beach in 2009 before I decided I liked seeing them again.

"Eric's generosity and love for the music is obvious by how much music he shared on the Live Music Archive, in addition to all of the trading he did on cassettes, DATs and CDs over the years. Eric and I were instrumental in setting-up an efficient method to distribute a LOT of music quickly via the NYCHeads PTT (Permanent Tape Tree). In the old days, 'tape trees' were the most efficient way to get music out there. Someone would 'seed' the tree by sending out one DAT tape to the person at the top of the tree. Then that person would make 3 copies and send them out to people on the next level of the tree. Then those 3 people would make 3 copies each and send them off, etc., until very quickly hundreds of copies were out there. Making it 'permanent' made it much more efficient for folks to get the music out because we didn't have to waste the time elicting signups and putting the tree structure together each time after it had been set up. He and I would often alternate in seeding those trees with cool stuff that we had recorded or received in trade. I especially recall Eric being very enthusiastic about seeding a Radiators show from Irving Plaza 4/12/97 where Warren Haynes had sat in. I also recall us making a ton of copies of the famous Phish Crest Theater 3/22/93 Gamehendge show (which had already been treed elsewhere) for the NYCHeads PTT.

"Notably, Eric was one of the main contributors to the moe. DANK project. This was a project in the semi-early days of the Live Music Archive to try and get the best quality, lowest generation versions of all moe. shows in circulation up on the archive. While they didn't manage to get EVERYTHING up there, they did manage to get a nice swath of shows from the early days transferred and posted for everyone to enjoy.

"In recent years, Eric had mostly been in taping 'retirement', only pulling-out his mics and recorder when he knew that there would be no other tapers there, or when he had easy access to the soundboard feed to hook up his deck and leave it at the soundboard. I don't think it was because his love for taping had abated, but he simply didn't have time and energy for all of the 'post production' work now required of tapers: the whole process of mastering, tracking, uploading, etc. to share shows. With his busy home life, time was tight.

Photo © 2007 Sharon Shiner (ev with Scott and Jen Bernstein on the 2nd moe. cruise aboard the Norwegian Jewel 1/7-13/2007)

"The last time we saw each other was for a trip with moe. to Jamaica as part of their 'Tropical Throe.down' January 8th to 14th, 2015. Eric, Jill, and Jen (my wonderful wife) and I got a TON of quality time together on the beach: sharing dinners, relaxed time on the beach (with each-other, other moe.rons, and the band and crew), diving (well, Eric and Jill dove, anyway) and, of course, rocking out to moe. with about 300 other people! We were truly blessed to have had so much time together in a beautiful environment. While it's impossible to say goodbye to one of your best friends -- we were so close, he was one of the groomsmen in my wedding party -- my grief is soothed at least somewhat by the incredible final blowout that we had together. More than just music buddies, Eric was always there with exactly the right words of advice when something went wrong in my life, words of congratulations when things went well, and a great sounding board for sensible advice when I needed it.

"I will miss him intensely, and am so thankful for the nearly 20 years of friendship that we did have together." -- Scott Bernstein

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A "Triple Nipple" refers to any show in which Phish plays all three* of their original songs that refer to nipples**: "Fee", "Punch You in the Eye", and "The Sloth". They've been an item of amusement for decades. But even the FAQ's Triple Nipple page has until recently had the numbers wrong.

Corrected numbers reveal something that's long been elusive, partly because we didn't even know to look for it: There have only been two such shows, such that the next one will be the one, the only, Third Triple Nipple - the cubed cube, the apex of nubbin allusion, the supernumerary of supernumerary shows.

Now, knowing that there have only been two, seeing that "2" pulsating from the middle of a Venn Diagram***, may make you start to wonder, when will the Triple Nipple Trilogy be completed?

But it's not the kind of thing for which you can campaign explicitly without seeming either immature ("Tres Trip Nip, Trey?") or overly sophisticated ("I want my ternate supernumerary!") So, we're here for ya', with a solution: Special Mockingbird-supporting shirts and tanks that promote the cause without using the "n" word... or even that "s" one.

By the way, triple nipples are less common at Phish shows than on humans: Those two shows are pnlyl 0.13% (an eighth of a percent) of the 1,510 shows Phish has performed to date, much rarer than the 2% of women and 5% of men blessed (or cursed?) with a third nipple.

Methods notes:

* Some would include others songs: A nipple is mentioned in the version of "Sanity" that appears on Junta, and including "Sanity" in Triple Nipple counts increases the total to 10 - but none of the 10 versions of "Sanity" that would be counted, mentioned a nipple. The count would double again to 20 if we include "The Oh Ke Pa Ceremony," the title of which comes from a tribal ceremony painful to nipples - but the song is not clearly a nipple reference, either for Phish or as understood by most fans.

** Note that all three of these lyrical references are about nipple slicing. That's not really a methodological note, but the nubbin trouble seems weird.

*** Unlike the earlier Venn-like graph (with nested sets but aggregated numbers), numbers here are incremental. There have been 166 shows with Sloth, of which 9 also had "Fee", of which 2 also had "PYITE" - but there were only 106 shows with just "Sloth" (no PYITE), 7 with Sloth and PYITE (but no Fee), and, again, 2 with all three.

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The wonderful folks behind Surrender to the Flow Yoga have raised thousands of dollars for the Mockingbird Foundation through a series of yoga classes, set to Phish music, on show dates, near venues. Now, they're planning for some special yoga classes in conjunction with the coming Fare Thee Well shows, and are asking for your help via a poster design contest.

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The following reflections on the Miami New Year’s Run come to us from an old time Phish fan who last saw the band on July 26, 1992, at the Big Birch Concert Pavilion in Patterson, NY. On that date in 1992, Phish played a 1-set, 7-song opener for Santana. To underscore the significant gap in time between shows, the last time the writer saw Phish, more than 22 years and 1011 Phish performances ago, Bill Clinton had not yet been elected President. The writer is a musician and bard himself, and here are his unedited reflections on seeing Phish for the first time in 22 years:

"When I think of Phish, I think of phar out melodies and a phuriously phunky rhythm section. If I could I surely would dance till the lights came up and when they did I would shout out loud "Whoo Hoo!". Phunking all right!

Phish is the little band that could. Trey, Page, Michael and Jon, old buds who formed and forged their sound in the little old state of Vermont. They stuck together through the turbulence and turmoil and learned how to make magic. It always begins with a little love, some sweet nectar and a dream.

Now my love does not eat meat, so I am going Phishing. Won't you join me?

When I first saw Phish I was a much younger man. They played a seven song set in support of Santana. Carlos saw what I saw and when they played together I knew that Phishing would never be a waste of time. A bevy of beautiful people came together to ensure that no matter who you were, what you are and what will be, it will be alright. That was the Phish message, not Santana's. I know why that message survives, thrives and inspires. If you love Santana as I do, remind him of the lessons he learned by jamming with Phish and encourage him to do it again. It makes us all stronger.

Now it's the New Year's Run 22 years later and the message means more than ever. The Beatles knew it...it was the mantra for a generation. Be here now! The meaning of those three words is slipping away as technology fosters the growth of materialism and the "we" increasingly becomes "me". Don't let the words "I love you" become "what can you do for me?" Give me a home where the buffalo roam...When the Phish play time is suspended. There is a sound that you just know is right, theirs is a sound that can get us all through the night. We, the audience dispense with our seats and we boogie, we let the music carry us along just like in that old John Lee Hooker song. Right now in front of me are two of the prettiest women you would ever want to meet dancing and waving a Prussian flag. They never stopped dancing as long as the music was playing. Be here now!

I know that part of what is expected of me is to be a bit of a journalist. I am after all writing, but I am writing about music. How does one write about something you have to experience? Would I impress you if I wrote about their wondrous aeolian cadences or would you prefer to strike an acquaintance with some exotic birds? Words can't do music justice and besides most journalists these days are more inclined to become corporate minions so I don't believe a word they say. Maybe that's why I have more faith in music. Journalists can be bought and sold more easily than musicians, though I know that musicians are not immune to the call of capital interests.

Phish is one of the few bands out there that still have an open policy when it comes to taping and trading bootleg copies of their concerts. Way back when you would see a shipload of amateur tapers with their microphones on a stick trying to get the best recording possible. In fact if you were at that concert in 1992 at Big Birch Pavilion, I beseech you to send a copy to the people that posted this Phish Phantasy. These days the band will actually let you download a copy of the concert you saw straight from the soundboard with your ticket stub, so you don't even need to bring your recorder anymore. That's wild! I believe in the call of the wild but even the Indians wanted a few beads before they sold Manhattan. Phish let their music do the talking. No journalists, no words are necessary.

If you have been listening whilst reading these words it might well have taken an hour and a half to get this far so it's time for an intermission...

We are doing the New Year's Run so get used to those intermissions. They make the house happy and it gives those of us in the audience not surgically attached to their cell phones a moment to speak...and say hello. Phish fans are a phriendly bunch. Your neighbor is sure to acknowledge your existence and be here now. How pleasant! I would also like to make a point, perhaps it is a point that Vermont's finest will agree with but I can't really speak for them. I can however speak about the causes they care about because the intermission gives us all another opportunity to communicate. The Phellowship for those of us that have over indulged and the Waterwheel Foundation for those of us who still believe in helping out those we meet along the way are both worthy endeavors sponsored by the band and those who love their music. I want to live in that world, do you know what I mean? The world where we still care about each other and take the time to look into each other's eyes.

Phish, the little band that could, the band that I remember jamming with Santana and proving their worth is now the only band that could fill a Miami arena for four days in a row, just like the Dead in Madison Square. This is a testament to you, 'cause without you it all falls apart. You are the music. You sing the songs and dance the dance. You are the charity, the comfort, the goodwill toward men. You are the phellowship. You are the reason why the music is playing. So let the music play...I want to dance another day!

Phish music is what inspires these thoughts. Dancing and singing and carrying on in concert with my brothers and sisters who are all around me. Real music, that's what it's all about. The four individuals that make up Phish have an innate, magical ability to hear each other, to communicate on another level. A rarity in music, a rarity in most human interaction, but it does give me a reason to believe, another reason to pull out the old pole and go Phishing again."

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Until last fall, every announced tour brought a common lament: "West Coast screwed again." But the data has a different refrain: While the West Coast gets plenty of love, it's the band's home turf that gets routinely shafted - and moreso across the band's history.

The mantra "follow the line going south" did not emerge in lyrics or tour patterns until 1987, following four years solely in New England. By 2014, Phish had abandoned Patriots territory - but they still played Seahawks city.

And last fall was hardly an anomaly. There have been more shows in Pacific states than New England ones in 12 of 23 periods - including 1997 and 2004, in particular. New England has even fallen behind non-US shows in six periods!

Other patterns are apparent, as well: The Midwest had its hey day (esp. 98-04), but has slipped away since the "breakup". Non-US shows were tops in 1996 and 1997, but have barely been seen since the hiatus. And if there's a region that's been roundly ignored throughout the band's history, it's not Western states but South Central.

Methods:

This stacked-column flowchart is expanded from a 4-year chart (by the fabulous FrankensTeam) to cover 23 periods and with narrower columns, faded connectors, and percents (rather than proportions in decimal form). It might also be called a Linked Stacked-Column Graph, Platform Shift Graph, or Shifting Stripe Graph.

Regions are based on Census Bureau divisions, though these may not be ideal. For example, the Atlantic region is a long swath heading south, although DC was played four years before Florida. (Indeed, subsquent comments have suggested using FEMA regions, though there are of course problems w/ any alternative.)

Note also that I've left Pacific separate from Mountain, a distinction that wouldn't be made by some (such as those who divide the country by the Mississippi River). If those two regions are combined, Western shows dominate even more often.

And, yes, you can hang a print of it over your bed.

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As far as we know, Phish didn't play any Monday shows their first two years. And except for some regular gigs in 1988, Monday (and the first half of the week) remained less likely to have a show for most of their history. I know, you're not surprised... But there are two interesting twists in the pattern.

First, the distribution of shows across the week became more even throughout the 90s. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday were played 2-3 times as often from '89 to '94. But by '97, Wednesday was just as common as Saturday; and by 2000, even Monday tied with Saturday! Gone were the days of booking weekend gigs at clubs in college towns; Phish could play anywhere, any night of the week.

But since the breakup, weekend shows are, once again, twice as likely as Monday. And now, even Thursdays are slipping away. The aggregate pattern now is fewer weeks, and 5 shows in each of them: Tues/Wed and Fri/Sat/Sun. (Two coming graphs will delve more into the related shift towards multiple-night runs in each venue.)

Methods Note:

Red dots indicate 5 or fewer shows; green are 20 or more.

Note that while previous infographics (1, 2, 3) had been posted on Saturdays, we've shifted... to Fridata.

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Already, rumors are spinning about various stops on an anticipated summer 2015 tour. Wherever it's stopped, and whenever it's announced (likely on a Tuesday, late February?), it's almost certain to happen: Phish 3.0 is all about the summer tour.

For most of this chart, each row shows a calendar year (Jan 1 to Dec 31), with a vertical blue sliver for each Phish show. Three heatmaps summarize those 32 years: The darker blue the sliver, the more shows occurred on that day of the year. In all rows (the 32 years and the heatmaps), dates without shows stay white.

The top multi-colored row is based on a sum across all 32 years, and shows that Phish shows have historically been distributed roughly evenly across the calendar year, with only three exceptions: There have never been shows most January days, several days around the start of the school year, and the third week of December. But glance down the chart (where each row is a different year) and see both noticeable gaps and shifts in where they happened.

Those shifts are summarized clearly in three more heatmap rows at the bottom, one each for three periods in Phish history. Shows from '83-'94 were year-round but with summer downticks reflecting, in part, the targeting of college markets. From '95-'00, summer was central, fall shifted from Nov/Dec to Sep/Oct, and the first three months of the year were thin. Since the hiatus ('03-'14), the first five months (as well as September and November) have been bare - and 3.0 has been decidely summer and October.

So, unless we enter a new pattern, and perhaps even a new era... get ready for the heat, and start brainstorming a costume.

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Though a summer event will celebrate "the music of the Grateful Dead" (emphasis added), the last Grateful Dead show was 7/9/95, 30 years and 65 days after their first. Phish reached that age February 5th of last year, will be a year older than that in less than three weeks, and arguably* became the longest-performing jamband when they took the stage 4/26/14.

Though they are said to have expanded rapidly (even exponentially), Phish's growth was far more gradual than that of other bands, including the Grateful Dead. It wasn't until Phish was perhaps** 7 years old that they played 100 shows in the same year, something that the Grateful Dead did in their 2nd year - and that Widespread Panic, String Cheese Incident, and Umphrey's McGee, for example***, all did in their 4th. (The fastest growing of these was SCI, who played 226 shows in 1997, their sixth year, after two spare ones - though they've played relatively few shows since their 15th.)

And while Phish is thought to have stopped suddenly, their decline was also more gradual: The Grateful Dead's performance frequency peaked (at 150 shows) in their 5th year then dropped (to 4) in their 10th, whereas Phish didn't peak until their 8th year (at only 143 shows), followed by a relatively slow decline until their 18th. Yes, the Grateful Dead (lost and) replaced some personnel, an approach sort of built into the band's music, mystique, and even name. But they also played every year for 31 years, bounced back with abandon after their pause (in 1975), and played more shows per year than Phish in each of the bands' respective 16th through 31st years.

Phish, meanwhile, actually came to a full stop, twice, for almost two and then more than four years. Only WSP has had a (single) sharper drop - but with the exception of that one, WSP has been far more prolific: Only 17 months younger than Phish, they grew almost as quickly as SCI (and in line with both the Grateful Dead and Umphrey's), have typically played more shows at any age than any of these bands, and have played the greatest total number of shows, almost twice the number SCI has played (not Everyday, but the closest to it, at about 24% of the days since they started.)

For their age, Umphrey's McGee wins for consistency and stamina. The band has played more shows at any age than Phish or the Grateful Dead, played more shows in its first 15 years than Phish has in 31, and show no signs of slowing. By 2018, at only 21 years old, they'll have had more stage experience than the Grateful Dead.....though not Widespread, seemingly destined to outlast them all.*

Methods Notes:

Annual counts were drawn from DeadNet, Phish.net, Cheesebase, AllThings, and Everyday Companion.

* The Allmans started earlier, and only recently stopped, so maybe they're the oldest - if they're a jamband? And iterations of "the Dead" continue. Don't over think it; just look at the pretty lines and smile. :)

** We are aware of 94 shows in Phish's sixth year, but recognize that there may be others, long forgotten.

*** Don't be offended that I didn't include moe., Wilco, U2, Celine Dion, or anyone else. Some didn't have data; others didn't add value.

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“Fare Thee Well – Celebrating 50 Years of the Grateful Dead” – will take place at Chicago's Soldier Field on July-3-5. The official announcement follows:

To celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Grateful Dead, Mickey Hart, Bill Kreutzmann, Phil Lesh, and Bob Weir will reunite at Chicago’s Soldier Field, nearly 20 years to the day of the last-ever Grateful Dead concert, which took place at the same venue. “Fare Thee Well: Celebrating 50 Years of Grateful Dead” will take place over three nights – July 3rd, 4th, and 5th, 2015 – and mark the original members’ last-ever performance together. The band will be joined by Trey Anastasio (Guitar), Jeff Chimenti (Keyboards) and Bruce Hornsby (Piano), and will perform two sets of music each night.

In the tradition of the original Grateful Dead Ticketing Service, tickets will be available via a first come first serve mail order system starting on January 20th, followed by an online pre-sale through Dead Online Ticketing February 12th and will be available online to the general public on February 14th via Ticketmaster.

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Referring to the members of Phish as "the boys" was fun, then "so last week", then ironic. Now, it's just sad. But there's always one way to revisit any issue: statistically.

A little over eight months ago, I posted a Venn diagram purporting to show the numbers of common shows with each combination of Phish songs that mention boys:

Lifeboy, Lawn Boy, Dog-Faced Boy, and You Enjoy Myself. The numbers were solid, but some of you questioned the song selection. (No one objected that the first two mention boys only in their titles, not lyrics, but various users suggested adding other songs.)

So, here's a revision, which includes Fluffhead (thanks @larvalcraze) - though not Harpua (which doesn't always mention Jimmy as a boy; sorry, @The_Crested_Hogchoker) or Little Drummer Boy (a cover; sorry, @markah).

This post also does more than update an old farce: This five-petal Venn diagram begins a series of more than two dozen graphs, each drawing on different aspects of Phish.net data, and each utilizing a different kind of graph. Each will post Saturday morning, to give you something to chew on (and perhaps share) over the weekend. Because whose weekend isn't more complete with fresh visualizations of data about the b-... well, you know.

And, by popular demand, yes, you can get it on a shirt - and lots of other stuff, too. Each chart design will be available on several dozen products, with royalties going to the Mockingbird Foundation. And while, sure, this "Five Boys Venn" works on a coffee mug (small or large), it works even better on a boy's toddler t-shirt or mom-to-be's maternity shirt. That's right: Be the first in your 'hood to announce your blue-hued news with a Phish-related visual riddle!

A note on methods: These aren't true Venn diagrams, since each number is total instances rather than unique instances. For example, there have been 191 total Lawn Boys, including the 2 shows that also had Dog-Faced Boy and the 35 that also had Fluffhead; and all three of those numbers include the 1 show that had all three songs.

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