Techies

I just returned from going on tour, attending four Phish concerts up and down the cold, leafless east coast. I ran tape on the first three shows, setting up my stand and mics, and lovingly recording every note of every jam, but things have changed. Phish, like many other jambands, are now offering downloads of their live concerts for a nominal charge, and suddenly my hobby, which took hundreds of hours (and thousands of dollars) to master, can now be accomplished by anyone with twenty dollars and an internet connection.

Instead of a flood of envelopes and e-mail addresses requesting copies, I was met each night with a curiously sad look. Why would I want to continue taping shows when downloading crisp soundboard copies are so easily obtainable? Why go through all the trouble and hassle, not to mention spending all that money, to do something that is now so readily available, and rather cheap? For the record, it costs about as much to tape a show, including buying blank tapes and batteries, as well as service on the equipment, as it does to download a show. That is if you happen to already own thousands of dollars worth of recording equipment of course.

When I first started taping about ten years ago, I did it to satisfy a deep craving for complicated, improvisational music. I couldn’t stand the ubiquitous pop played on most radio stations (back then they called it alternative music, how ironic) - and I needed a steady supply of new music to keep me interested. Back then, a Grateful Dead concert was the only game in town, unless you could dig jazz, but that just doesn’t rock enough when it counts, if you know what I mean. Like most tapers, I eventually learned the artform from the old timers, and with their help I quickly built up quite a music collection. Namely, I discovered a whole array of new bands, all pushing limits night after night…first among them was Phish. With all of these bands, the music is intricate, detailed, ever-changing, much like taping itself. It’s an equally interesting and challenging process, taping shows, more so than the casual observer might think. It’s the kind of thing that gets under your skin, like tying flies or building model ships in bottles.

Since those early days following the Dead around, I’ve taped all kinds of shows - from jam acts like String Cheese Incident to jazz legends like Melvin Sparks. And in addition to amassing large quantities of well-cataloged masters, I often trade choice shows with fellow taper friends, utilizing particular favorites to get those hard to find gems (currently I’m waiting for some Bob Marley shows to come in the mail). But a continual bonus for the hours of work is, it’s always nice to listen to the show on the ride home. In many cases it sounds better than actually being there. Well, it’s often clearer at least, and it takes the edge off a weary drive from Albany to Boston at, say, 2:30 in the morning.

Of course, in addition to pristine copies of your favorite live nights, taping has a lot of other fringe benefits as well. I sit with my friends at every show, including some of the same people I first met over ten years ago. Mostly a crew that only sees each other seasonally in the taper’s pit, securely tucked rear-center, behind the soundboard, with a perfect sightline, straight to the stage. There are certainly efforts and equally as many sacrifices, such as tapers aren’t typically still at the bar, finishing a last, quick beer at 7:30 since we all get in far too early to set up equipment. But it gives the regulars plenty of time to catch up, talk about gear, and settle in for the show. With all the extra time, and surrounded by archivists of varying levels, we share a unique interest and a depth of knowledge in the kind of music, primarily known as Jambands. Any taper can talk in great detail about the music, the musicians, particular shows or even certain moments of random songs from years past. And it’s true that they’re typically a bit more jaded than the average fan, the byproduct of not only seeing so many shows, but intently cataloging those shows and constantly striving for coveted moments to be forever captured on tape. So tapers quickly recognize when things get very good and stand with folded arms when they go bad. And we’re as quick as anyone to vocalize it, both amongst ourselves and in those heated message boards where everyone’s right.

Jackets and packs are always a hassle for the typical concertgoear, but since I carry a big bag of stuff with me to every show, I can get in with a lot more stuff than the average fan. It’s not only filled with mics and gear, but with all sorts of useful stuff - flashlights and candy, batteries, pen and paper. All stuff you may want with you, but don’t care to lug around an arena. And before you pass it off as erroneous materials…you know how after you spend $5 on a water, the venue wont let you keep the cap? Well, I keep a selection of water bottle tops for just such a situation. Strange how important a cap is when you haven’t got one. And in cold and flu season I also keep a store of moist towelets. Getting the late fall tour flu with five shows still to go is a miserable experience, and hand washing is essential, even if the bathrooms at some of the venues are best avoided except in dire emergency.

Such wonderful perks, you would think tapers are the happiest people on tour, but in actuality, that’s seldom the case. Many, including myself, are cynical, surly road warriors, and we need the taper’s pit as a refuge from the wild chaos that surrounds a Phish concert. I still love the music, but I’ve grown to dislike and avoid the traffic, crowds, parking lot scene, vending, teen drunks, and after show police actions that sometimes come with the show.

With the downloads being offered, there’s little reason why Phish or any other band that sells its live music needs to accommodate the many needs of tapers. In the past it was a brilliant marketing move, without which the Grateful Dead might have gone the way of the Jefferson Starship. I shudder at the thought. Its possible Phish wouldn’t be as popular as they are now without taping to spread the word. But I doubt I would go to as many shows if I were not taping. It’s a hobby I love, I feel a bit to old to sit in the general audience, and I generally prefer listening to my hard earned show in the comforts of my own living room anyway. Without taping, I would become what many fans call a couch Phish head. Still I think they would be losing something by no longer allowing it to continue, a piece of the past, or an honest evaluation of the continuing tour.

Besides, I love downloading the shows as much as everyone else. I can’t be at every show and I can get them quicker now than waiting for a trade. It takes a lot of the pressure off. If I screw up the recording I can always get one the next day. Every taper has a similar dream from time to time the night before a show. In my dream I’m at a concert in my elementary school gym/cafeteria/auditorium and I can’t connect my deck to my mics because the cable connections won’t work. In the particularly cruel versions of this nightmare the music plays on and on and I miss it all, sitting at the lunch table, completely absorbed in fixing my equipment, until the lights come up and I’ve missed it and I walk through the parking lot feeling like a failure. At least I’m not naked. I didn’t have that dream at all this year.

In the end, ironically the advent of downloads have actually helped increase my enjoyment of taping the show. The mini-disc population boom of the late 90s has subsided, so there are no longer newbies in the pit, with $90 walkmans and two erroneous tapers tickets, making bad tapes on inferior equipment. So for the most part, all of the audience tapes coming out now are the best sounding ones in years. I guess taping is like fishing. I can go to the supermarket like everyone else and buy high quality swordfish all cut up and ready to cook, I often do in fact, but sometimes it’s nice to go out and take a few stripers for myself. I suppose most hobbies are spawned from obsolete endeavors. After all, there were model ship builders in the royal navy.

I hope there will always be a place for tapers, and there will always be new bands to tape, but there is nothing like taping a Phish concert. That’s where all of my friends are, after all.