Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: trey anastasio (Page 3 of 9)

Voting Is Fuego, Kids

trey-vote-sign

“Trey!”

“Trey!”

“TREY!”

“Dammit, Pagey, I’m holding up a sign right now.”

“I can’t do my belt.”

“I’ll help you in a minute, buddy.”

“What do those shapes mean?”

“It says ‘Go Vote.’ People have to vote this year.”

“I vote for spaghetti and meatballs..”

“We’re not voting for lunch, Page. We’re voting for a president.”

“Then I vote for the happy man with ears. His name is Madonna.”

“Obama.”

“Banana.”

“Obama.”

“He smiles and his wife is pretty.”

“Yes, but he can’t be president any more, buddy.”

“But I want him to be.”

“Lot of people do. But he can’t. It’s a rule.”

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Blank Page

bobby-page-trey

“Please don’t take Trey, Mr. Bobby.”

“Who?”

“Him. My friend who smiles and solos.”

“Ah. You call him Trey? Is that short for Troy?”

“I don’t understand, Mr. Bobby. Trey is Trey, and he is my friend.”

“Yeah, no. I’m not gonna take him.”

“Trey is a Phish. I am a Phish, and Mike who is mean to me, and the smelly lady who plays drums. And Trey.”

“Gotcha.”

“And you cannot be a Phish. There are four of us. That is why ‘four’ and ‘Phish’ start with the same letter.”

“Can you read, buddy?”

“Trey is teaching me, Mr. Bobby.”

“Since when?”

“We met in 1985.”

“Ah.”

Phish You

bobby-trey-fishman-nashville-jpg

“Troy, question.”

“Sure, Bobby. What?”

“What song is this?”

“That we’re playing?”

“Yeah.”

“Playing in the Band. You wrote it.”

“No, it doesn’t go this fast.”

“Um, yeah, okay. The tempo’s speedy, sure.”

“Is the song being chased?”

“Um, no.”

“Then why is it going so fast?”

“We play fast, I guess.”

“You gotta luxuriate in a tune. I feel like I’m in a heavy mental band.”

“Oh, uh, I forgot to ask at soundcheck: how do you wanna go from the jam part back into the song part?”

“We were gonna fuck it up.”

“Oh, good. That’s how we used to do it.”

Lawn Bob

bobby-phish-3-nashville

“Wait. You’re Troy.”

“Close enough.”

“What do you think about laundry?”

“I don’t think about laundry.”

“Yeah, that’s the right answer.”

“Oh, right: didn’t Josh start a laundry company or something?”

“All of us did, but he’s the only one taking it seriously. Billy bought the laundromat–”

“Just for skank?”

“–just for skank. Yeah, Billy’s decided to grow old disgracefully.”

“I picked up on that.”

“Oh, you know Billy?”

“We’ve met.”

“So, uh: you wear that sort of outfit all the time?”

“A shirt and jeans? Pretty much. I wore a nice shirt last week and the internet was dickish about it.”

“But not, you know: crazy get-ups or anything?”

“Not lately, no.”

“And that ‘staring into the distance’ face you make: that’s the worst of it?”

“I guess.”

“You know all the Dead songs already, right?”

“Bobby, you can’t trade guitarists.”

“I think I can. Who manages you?”

“IS MR. BOBBY TAKING YOU AWAY AGAIN, TREY?”

“Jesus, Bob, now you’ve upset Page.”

Eskimo, Brothers

trey-bobby-nashville

“Chicago!”

“Right.”

“And you’re not Bruce Hornsby.”

“Also correct.”

“Are you Soldier Field?”

“Well, that makes no sense at all, Bobby.”

“Were you wearing a different shirt?”

“What? Probably, I guess.”

“I’m not so great with names, but I never forget a shirt.”

“Think, Bobby. Fare Thee Well show.”

“Right. I was wearing my ‘Let Trey Sing’ shirt.”

“I’M TREY!”

“Then shouldn’t you be singing?”

“Goddammit.”

West L.A. Phadeaway

bobby-phish-5-nashville

“Josh, you look terrible.”

“Do you mean John? I’m pretty sure you mean John, and I’m not him.”

“You’re soloing incessantly. That’s what Josh does.”

“Not Josh, Bobby. Trey.”

“Not ringing a bell.”

“It just occurs to me that I have no idea what you think my name is.”

“Probably not wrong.”

“Trey Anastasio.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“From Phish.”

“No, thanks. I’m a vegan this week.”

“The band, Bob. Jesus, man: I played with you at Fare Thee Well.”

“Phil?”

“Just play the song, Bob.”

Get On The Same Page

trey-page-onstage

“Why is Bobby here, Trey?”

“He’s just sitting in with us, Page.”

“No. Guitarists stand. I sit.”

“He’s going to play music with us.”

“I love playing music!”

“I know, buddy. Me, too.”

“He’s not going to try and take you away again, is he?”

“No, Page.”

“You are a Phish! Not a Grateful Dead!”

“I’m a Phish, Page. Now and forever.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky swear.”

“I got scared when you left last summer.”

“I know, Page.”

(Check out the show here.)

Worlds Collide (In HQ)

Here’s something else that has nothing, nothing at all, to do with the flaming wreckage of a failed experiment our republic and culture has become: Phil and some very special Phriends from the Warfield in SanFrancisco on 4/15/99. Trapqueen Applefucker and Page from The Phishes joined Phil, along with Steve Kimock and John Molo, and the whole thing kicks ass, starting with the half-hour Viola Lee. Grateful Deads are playing Phosh music, Phishes are playing choogly tunes: mass hysteria.

And, for your convenience, below is the set list and you can just click on whichever time code you want. I do things for you people.

Set 1 0:00 Viola Lee Blues 33:58 Big Railroad Blues 44:02 Jack-A-Roe 50:00 Cosmic Charlie 1:02:42 Wolfman’s Brother 1:16:50 Uncle John’s Band

Set 2 1:41:43 Alabama Getaway 1:50:33 Sugaree 2:12:59 Like a Rolling Stone 2:23:50 I Know You Rider 2:37:50 Row Jimmy 2:47:23 Shakedown Street 3:06:38 The Wheel 3:15:54 Not Fade Away
Encore 3:30:35 Donor Rap & Band Intros 3:33:45 Mr Tambourine Man

Why You Gotta Be So Ween?

trey backstage lockn

Hey, Trey. Whatcha doing?

“Watching Ween.”

Why?

“I’m polite. And bored.”

You guys were great tonight.

“Thanks. Nice of you.”

Have you guys been practicing since the summer tour?

Did you have a meeting or something, and decide to play well?

Was it the internet? You should never go on there: it’s mean.

“Y’know, I’m not in the Grateful Dead any more, and I don’t have to put up with you.”

Yeah, no: you leave the Grateful Dead when I say you do.

“What? No. That’s not how it works.”

Sure it does. I slapped the Franchise tag on you in Chicago, Trance.

“You’re worse than the Phish Phans.”

Dude.

“Yeah, okay: no one’s worse than Phish Phans.”

No.

“Listen, just between you and me? This Ween guy is making intolerable faces. I make fucked-up faces, but this guy is putting me off my feed. ”

The fat one or the ugly one?

“The ugly one.”

This face?

ween face

“Yeah. He won’t stop making it. I think someone slapped him on the back years ago while he was doing it.”

Mom was right.

“It froze like that.”

Norm MacDonald having an allergic reaction to scallops.

“If there was a corpse in an elevator, and the corpse farted, and then you got on the elevator? That would be the face you made.”

Sure.

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