Exercise in memory #1

status check - Contemplative
background ambiance - DMB, "Warehouse"

1999
I think Josh was surprised when I offered to move to the main stage alone, thus letting him enjoy the end of Everclear's set. Considering the travesty my sense of navigation had already proven to be, the fact that I was willing to get lost again, just for the sake of seeing a set in its entirety, demonstrated how determined I was to finally see the band. He laughingly refused to let me wander by myself and agreed to attend the set with me.

We walked from the west stage as Everclear finished with "Local God." I sang along to the words, thrilled that the song had actually made it into the setlist. As the guitar riffs faded behind us, the sound of cheers ahead grew and, after passing the overpriced concourse booths, I saw a huge swell of people moving to the tie-dye backdrop stage.

We moved to the house left side of the crowd, walking along the series of wall petitions set up to keep us in and non-ticketholders out. Scattered groups of weary-but-drunk spectators were perched at the top of the walls - Josh thought that taking a similar approach would be our best bet for seeing anything. I agreed and we climbed a metal lattice of pipes until we were sitting on a thick, sun-warmed iron rod. Perfect timing, as the band was just taking the stage.

I watched a small figure, clad in a blue shirt, come onto the stage and started cheering along the other 150,000 or so gathered. Josh smirked at the rapt expression on my face, but I ignored his attempts at cynicism. That he was actually there to hear it all was victory enough for me - didn't need to convert him to a fan.

Hearing the violin fill the outdoor space for the first time was the key moment - I'd spent so much time hearing that raw sound piped through CD player and computer speakers over the previous year that I almost couldn't believe it was being generated live in front of me. Dave rambled and scat-spoke through most of the set, the indescipherable one-sided conversation demonstrating just how much he was feeling the Woodstock spirit. I focused on following his figure on the stage, ignoring the large projection screen to the side. I'd spent enough time seeing him on monitors - it seemed cheap to rely on television cameras when I was actually there.

Still a relative newcomer to the band, I waited anxiously to see if they'd perform "Watchtower." Naturally they did, but I was surprised to discover that I enjoyed the performance of "Ants Marching" all the more. I clasped my hands on the hot metal supporting me as I bobbed my head and sang along - and I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that Josh was actually nodding in time to the beat as well. Although he later denied any such perceived appreciation for the music.

2001
The summer sun was starting to fade, allowing weak breezes to infiltrate the parking lot. My head ached - too much activity, too much travel during the hours that led me here. I was sure the swigs of Sour Apple Pucker consumed from the backseat of the car during the drive over hadn't helped matters. Too sweet, too sticky, too hot for June and the warm car hood on which the four of us sat.

It was be pointless to give in to the aches right now, as there was nowhere I'd be able to go and little I could do for them anyway.

As the temperature slowly dropped, we entered the stadium and found our seats. My head cleared and I laughed as I looked over the crowd, amazed that a full Foxboro Stadium could ever seem like a small crowd. Compared to Woodstock, however, it was.

The stage was flanked by futuristic Grecian columns, tubes of fabric that tapered in their centers. Michelle and I laughed when we both commented that the first thing we thought of were the absurd "funnels" that hung from our college cafeteria ceiling. As the sky flushed in shades of purple and blue, the band took the stage and lights flashed over the columns, the stage, and the band. They started with "Rapunzel" and led into "When the World Ends" - my two favorite songs off "Everyday." Michelle laughed as I grinned and began to dance along.

If I focused on the stage, I'd only follow the movement of the light show - I'd become hooked on examining the technical side of performances over the course of the previous year - so I allowed myself to watch the projection screens - laughing at Carter's infectious grin, smiling at Stefan's intense head bobs and cheering at Dave's crooked smile. I sang along with the fans around us - all seemingly more interested in letting the music serve as the soundtrack to the experience, rather than keeping their eyes on the stage.

Except for the guys who kept yelling, "PLAY SPOON!"

We ran into a friend from college in the concourse, and he raised his hands, both clutching full, foamy cups of beer, when he saw us. "HEY!!!!" He hugged us both - spilled beer on us both, but the cool liquid felt good with the summer night heat.

2002
I stared at the temperature gauge and urged it to go down. We were parked, for all intensive purposes, in the turning lane, waiting to drive down the winding road the led to the venue parking lots. My car, which had performed so brilliantly during most of the two-hour drive, seemed perilously close to overheating.

We all rolled down the windows and did what we could to cool things, but at that point, there's little to be done. A late July afternoon in upstate New York, surrounded by other, equally broiling cars. I cursed the car for not having air conditioning - then promptly apologized when the temperature gauge crept up a bit more.

We finally pulled into the entranceway and crept past the parks and picnic tables. The venue was hidden behind a good mile of recreation areas and clusters of trees - while it was a pretty drive and fine at a slow speed going in, it was going to be a bitch when we'd try to leave.

Flashing lights in the opposite lane behind me - we all turned to watch a police car escort a large, purple tour bus with tinted windows - the four of us squealed and playfully waved at the musicians we assumed were inside. Even Becca got into it, despite her reservations about the band. She'd come with us for the experience of it - and with the hopes of hearing the one Dave song she genuinely enjoyed, "Dancing Nancies." I'd spent much of the day hoping she'd be able to hear it - despite the fact that the band hadn't performed it for over a year.

After finding a parking spot and louging in the sunshine with sandwiches and drinks, we headed into the venue to find a spot on the gently inclining hill. I hadn't seen anything like this venue before - a structure at the bottom of the hill held seats, but the hill cut into the side of the building, forcing a large hole in the near wall that allowed spectators outside the actual building a view of the stage below. We were among the lawn people.

Michelle, Beth, Becca and I spread out on blankets and chatted before the show began and crowds around us stood to dance to the evening's music. I rediscovered my love for "Warehouse" early in the set and cheered loudly to the Ben & Jerry's reference before "One Sweet World." Beth and Michelle seemed into the music, but Becca's face dropped slightly each time a new song other than "Nancies" began.

After singing along to "Ants Marching," Becca said she was OK with the fact that "Nancies" wouldn't be played. I grimaced, feeling disappointed that she wasn't feeling the same sense of exhileration I was.

When the band took the stage again for the encore, Dave tuned his guitar and began plucking out notes. Becca's eyes flickered toward the stage in surprise before all four of us instinctively shrieked. He was teasing "Nancies" - Becca's face shone as she stared with delight at the projection screen, mouthing along the words.

As we waited to crawl out of the venue (car still over-heating), she said she was pretty impressed with DMB after all.

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I realized this morning, upon seeing announced DMB dates, that I haven't seen the band in nearly three years. Doesn't feel like it was that long ago, but hey, the calendar doesn't lie...

Who's up for going to a show? Boston and SPAC are both on weekends, and I'm up for it...