I bolded the bottom 2 paragraphs as I found them to mirror my thoughts on the differences in the scene.
Oh and forgive them for misquoting Rime of The Ancient Mariner as Moby Dick
Day 1
New years are for new beginnings and, likewise, new beginnings are born from new years. Sure, clocks and calendars are arbitrary measures of time, but cycles are real—and thus, every 12 months we give ourselves a new start, a new beginning, a new year. And what better way to start the New Year than by sailing the high seas with a pocketful of high jinks and a head full of resolutions.
The very idea of Jam Cruise—a weeklong adventure on a cruise ship with dozens of the world’s best live bands—is clutch enough in itself. But schedule it for the first week of the year, and you’ve got yourself a voyage that could actually mean something as well. Now, what it means exactly and what you choose to do with it is up to each individual passenger. But the cards are all out on the table
And so, after a four-night run with the Disco Biscuits that culminated in an all-night New Year’s Eve celebration at the Tweeter Center in Camden, NJ, a portion of the Relix Magazine crew sat bleary-eyed and exhausted at the Philadelphia International Airport en route to Florida. Fort Lauderdale has become an unlikely mecca for live music fans, but sure enough, dedicated jamband fans have become well acquainted with it, thanks to both Jam Cruise and the Langerado Music Festival (which takes place in March).
When we left Philadelphia, we were just another bunch of weary travelers in a busy airport on one of the busiest travel days of the year. Members of various bands—including Tea Leaf Green and the Disco Biscuits—were on our flights. And by the time we touched down in Fort Lauderdale, we were undeniably back in IT, the first wave of passengers arriving for Jam Cruise.
We finally got the first hours of shut-eye in more than 48 hours at a hotel on the beach. We’re not going to sleep for another week. Now we’re sitting in port, waiting for customs to give us the all-clear. And then we’re off!
It’s warm out. There are palm trees. It’s the first day of 2007. We’re about to sail the South Pacific with bands, booze, islands, pools, dance parties, and undetermined revelry.
But clearly there are no passengers on this boat — only explorers.
Day 2: Somewhere Between Pie and Infinity
I was born at precisely 1:09AM and have strictly adhered to a nocturnal sleep schedule ever since. Add to that a winter trip overseas, some New Year’s Eve jet leg, and a not-so-heady Atlantic Ocean time change and the line between day and night has blurred to the point where eggs only taste good at night and, for some reason, pizza sounds good for breakfast. Which makes Jam Cruise the ideal place to vacation since, no matter what time of day or night it is, you can stumble out of bed and into a game of poker, a guest-laden performance or, yes, a slice of pizza. And, if the sun never set on the British Empire, the show is certainly never over for Funk Nation, which sent a number of able-bodied representatives on Jam Cruise to answer the age-old algebraic question: How many ways can you add up the Dirty Dozen Brass Band, The Meters, the Neville Family, the Greyboy Allstars and Galactic, divide by Skerik, and get a supergroup which has never played before.
As it turns out the, answer is, luckily, somewhere between pie and infinity and Jam Cruise has been able to produce a number of jazz/funk, or really slightly jazzy, really funky, supergroups the likes of which have never been seen. Want to hear Meters bassist George Porter Jr. jam with the Dirty Dozen horns? We got that covered in the Jam Room on deck six! Want to see what he sounds like when placed next to some of Jerry Garcia’s favorite psychedelic musicians (rolled into a new version of the proto-jamband Zero)? Just walk down the hall and hear him play bass with Steve Kimock! Want to hear him with the current kings of New Orleans funk, Galactic? Well, while you went to the bathroom he rode the elevator upstairs and is playing with them right now on the Pool Deck. Oh, and while you were scoring big at poker (just kidding, alas) or watching Allman Brothers Derek Trucks and Oteil Burbridge in Jam Cruise’s Mass wedding (no, seriously!), Karl Denson and Skerik staged a not-so-hostile takeover of both Dumpstaphunk’s set in the Caruso Lounge and Galactic’s abovementioned poolside set. Oh, and even though I’d never really expect Berklee guitar master Eric Krasno to be a fan of the Band, he’s also tearing it up on a cover of “The Weight” with Derek Trucks and his wife Susan Tedeschi (who scored Trucks’ plus one on the boat and has remained busy onstage for a girl on vacation).
But the best part of Jam Cruise is that it takes that blurry-eyed New Orleans Jazz Fest enthusiasm and resets it in guitar fantasy camp. For instance, what better way to bond with Disco Biscuits’ Jon Gutwillig than by stealing his earning from a near sold-out show at Camden, NJ’s Tweeter Center in a game of poker (just ask my podcast co-host, Benjy, when he gets back from filming an episode of Wookies Gone Wild on the beach) or watch the Deep Banana Blackout/Rolls couple Fuzz and Carrie weigh the pros-and-cons post-jam poolside at the bar (which, by the way, has been stocked with some heady beer thanks to Starr Hill). And, is it the Starr Hill talking, or is that kid Avi G who spent a night sleeping at the foot of the Relix tent at All Good onstage with Kimock and that dude from P-Groove in the Jam Room? And holding his own at that!?
Not that Day 2 is only about jazz and funk. For urbanites like me who miss their Blackberries, the Drive-By Truckers’ Patterson Hood filled his solo set with the type of hipster heartache that made you feel like you walked out of the pool and into New York’s East Village (and what a damn good feeling it is at that!). Plus, Burning Spear proved to a generation of jam kids that, yes indeed, great music existed before Jerry.
I’m going to go get in line for some pizza now because, according to my clock, it is somewhere around 10AM and last night’s eggs have finally digested. I think when I get back Cold Turkey is going on a diet. I definitely quit my beer-and-veggie burrito-on-lot meal plan for this festival-like adventure, but we’re already signed up for next year!
Day 3
“Always knew my home was in paradise” – Disco Biscuits
According to schoolyard rules, Wednesday is hump day but in international waters, rules need not apply. Today, Jam Cruise came in like a lion and went out like a whale. It was a day at sea. A cruise ship sailing down the Atlantic Ocean. No civilization for miles around, either on or off the boat. And the boat was indeed a-rockin’.
This isn’t hyperbole, my friends. After ten years on the festival circuit, I’ve found a festival that is not only the greatest jamband festival of all time, but also paradise found, Shangri La, the pearly gates.
There’s a famous line from Moby Dick that goes something like, “Water, water, everywhere and not a drop to drink.” And yet, if Moby Dick had beached himself on the MSC Opera, surely he’d agree that in fact there’s music, music everywhere and oh so much to drink.
In the early afternoon hours, Mike Greenhaus and I recorded a few episodes of Cold Turkey, setting up camp at the artist lounge and snagging talk time with Derek Trucks (who admitted that he’s bailing from Eric Clapton tour this spring in order to make the Allman Brothers’ recently announced Beacon run), Luther Dickinson (who admitted that he used to take acid and see Aquarium Rescue Unit “all the time”), and Karl Denson (who finally admitted that the Greyboy Allstars are, indeed, officially reunited). Jeff Austin played us some sea shanties on his mandolin before bailing to take a nap.
On Tuesday night, in the casino, I won some serious drinking money playing roulette. And while the official Texas Hold ‘Em tournament that took place this afternoon was bustling with wannabe Amarillo Slims, I joined a late-night private game with Jon Gutwillig (Disco Biscuits) and some members of the Railroad Earth crew. I lost. Shrug. I’ll win it back tomorrow against Gutwillig and new addition Brendan Bayliss (Umphrey’s McGee).
On the pool deck, ALO performed during daylight hours and although I only stayed for a slice (before working on future episodes of Cold Turkey), it drove home the point that Jam Cruise makes about music at large — that is, good music drives everything.
I’ll explain but first let me change the scene to nightfall. It’s nearly a full moon. If you look off the side of the boat, all you see are waves. Water and waves. Open ocean and open sky. The light of a very nearly full moon. These are the symbols of life itself. The ocean, of course, representing everything from menstrual cycles to sexuality to the great Tabula Rasa of truth (ask the ocean anything and it will answer you honestly—with silence).
The moon, of course, is both feminine and cyclical. It’s a messianic figure of regeneration, birth and rebirth, death and reincarnation. Every month the moon dies so that there can be a new moon. Like the seasons. It was appropriate, then, that the moon was full for when we set sail yesterday from Fort Lauderdale; life aboard this ship seemed beyond full — it was overflowing. “Jamband fan overboard.” This feeling is contagious and yet springs from within. There is electricity in the air.
Now, if I may turn your attention back to the stage — as you turn your back on the ocean view, and look down at the pool deck, you’ll see Galactic tearing it up with special guest JJ Grey and hundreds of smiling fans all getting down until four in the morning. Downstairs, Dumpstafunk and Zero are doing the same thing. There is plenty of music here. And yet, it is hard even for a music nut like myself to pay it my full attention at all times. Even sitting at the outdoor bar seems like a monumental activity. Earlier I saw a spun kid at the rail face painting the bartenders. They were good sports and played along. Everybody is a good sport. Everybody is playing along.
Sometime just before dawn I went up to the very top deck, by myself, and sat against the bow. The wind was intense. The feeling, beyond words. This is only the first full day of the cruise and already it is the greatest music event I have ever attended. And most of the music hasn’t even happened yet.
I never want to go home. For us, on this boat, in the here and now — this feels like home. In a couple hours, we’ll arrive at Turks and Caicos, where artists and fans alike will swim in the ocean, relax on the beach, and explore the island. I’ll leave the boat for that. But they’re going to need a crane to get me to leave this fucking ship come Sunday.
Day 4: Waving the Tie-Die Flag
Not since the days of Tupac and Biggie has there been an East Coast/West Coast rivalry as heated as Jam Cruise’s Presidential Debate. In the weeks leading up to our departure, HeadCount organized Jam Cruise’s first presidential debate, kicking off over 20 grassroots campaigns throughout the nation’s various local music scenes. Candidates made friends, created witty MySpace pages, and added those new friends to their carefully crafted, witty MySpace pages, setting the stage for the biggest day at the polls since last year’s Jammys. And, since arriving on the MSC Opera Tuesday, two one-name candidates have emerged as frontrunners from the pack of luggage-clad wooks: “Lot Dog” and “Adam.”
Lot Dog is a San Francisco scenester with ties to Jambase and the public support of Bay Area upstarts ALO. His onboard friends are known to wear sparkly animal costumes and
his secret weapon is a suitcase full of promotional slap-on bracelets (remember those?). Adam is a New York-based Relix staffer with the support of Northeast jam titans the Disco Biscuits (minus Marc Brownstein, whose HeadCount ties prevent him from participating in the election). His onboard friends walk the tight (pants) rope between hippie and hipster and his secret weapon is a stack of promotional fliers recounting a recent trip to a Manhattan strip club. Both candidates have received onstage support from their hometown heroes and the race is neck-and-neck (or at least Berk-and-Berk) on the eve of election night. At press time, both candidates are preparing for this evening’s Presidential Debate, where Brownstein is expected to ask “the tough” questions, like how many times have you posted Trey’s mug shot on someone else’s MySpace page today, what’s the difference between a > and -> on a setlist, and does freedom of speech truly exist on PT?
And, while we’re pretty confident tomorrow’s election will end better than Tupac and Biggie’s longstanding feud, Jam Cruise’s heated race has brought to light two distinct hippie-rock approved music scenes. Last night, while Adam and Lot Dog discussed strategy with some of jam nation’s best spin doctors (Chris Baron is not onboard, alas), the Disco Biscuits went head-to-head with an all-star San Francisco Grateful Dead tribute. And, with a few exceptions, fans lined up along party lines, with West Coasters paying tribute to their roots on the sixth floor and East Coasters vacating the casino for the first time in days to see the Disco Biscuit’s fan-selected “ocean set” by the pool (a few muckrakers have already begun looking into instances of possible schedule gerrymandering). Lucky for Chicago-based Umphrey’s McGee and the boat’s New Orleans contingent, everyone seems to be down with Middle America and the Big Easy, though we hear rumors that Adam is going to snag Brendan Bayliss as a running mate and Lot Dog will add a Neville to his ticket at the eleventh hour.
But perhaps when Jam Cruise returns, jam nation is in need of some good, old-fashioned carpetbagging. For instance, what if a handful of Bisco Kidz migrated west or some of ALO’s posse were liberated east? Either way, one of the best things about a destination event like Jam Cruise is that it places fans from all over the country on the same, 12-story ship. While festivals like High Sierra and Gathering of the Vibes often draw regional followings (understandable given their location), Jam Cruise entices fans from all over the country (including Alaska, which went without jam music for a good 15 years between the Grateful Dead and String Cheese). For an East Coaster like myself, its nice to know that the hula-hoop is alive and well in other parts of the country and, for West Coasters, I’m sure its comforting to know that Philly kids still wear their hats at inappropriate angles. Indeed, all jamband fans are created equally.
