Are you catching the Britney brouhaha Down Under?  Turns out she MIMES!

She’s got to.  In order to deliver on the audience’s expectations.  She’s got to be the Britney from TV.  Perfect in every way.  Dazzling them with her dance moves.  And it’s almost impossible to dance like that and sing.  Have you ever talked to one of those fucks who calls you when he’s on the treadmill?  You wonder if they’re going to have a heart attack during the conversation!

But what does the audience expect?  A show, a tightly choreographed presentation, something you watch and ooh and ahh to?  Or a musical performance, that penetrates your body and mind?

Last time I checked, I didn’t see Widespread Panic on TV.  Look at MediaBase, they’re not in the Top Forty either.  By nineties standards, they don’t exist.  But it’s 2010.

In the MTV-era, you had to look good.  Your video had to be visually interesting.  To the point where in the nineties, they wouldn’t trust so-called "artists" with creative issues, too much money was at stake.  Write with the usual suspects, the pros, to create something we know we can sell.  And we’ll employ one of the usual suspect directors to create a sleek clip.  Hell, if we don’t get it right, we’ll scrap it and redo it!  You only get one chance to make an impression.  If it’s not exactly right, you’re toast.  Kind of like the new album by Mariah Carey and the pushed-back opus by Alicia Keys.  The initial singles stiffed, and the labels wanted to whip up a frenzy in order to sell a hundred thousand albums right away!  Thus, the release delay.  If you’re phenomenally lucky, you can ultimately sell a million.  Still, you might mean nothing on the road.  Is this a game you want to play?

Sure, there are old warhorses like Ms. Carey, but most of the acts are brand new.  Thrown up against the wall and then discarded.  They all have one thing in common.  They want to be FAMOUS!  They’re no different than the idiots on reality TV.  They want to appear on TMZ and Perez.  Then they’ll think they’ve made it.  But that making it is very different from the old paradigm.

In the old days you played music to get out of the mines, to get away from having a boss, so you didn’t have to wear a suit and tie to work.  Shit, you ultimately have more freedom going to college and learning how to code than subjecting yourself to the starmaking machinery today.  Look at Justin Timberlake.  He sacrificed Janet Jackson.  He couldn’t admit he was complicit in Boobiegate and that it was no big deal.  He issued a lame mea culpa the same way a truant student tells a principal what he wants to hear.  Whereas the rock stars of yore had a foolproof reaction to bullshit, to the system…THE MIDDLE FINGER!

Hell, John Lennon said the Beatles were bigger than Jesus and didn’t bother apologizing. He tried to explain, but the media wasn’t listening, because it was too dumb.  Whereas in the sixties, before the Born Again conflagration, there was no doubt the Beatles were bigger than Jesus.  But you can’t speak the truth.  Hell, you still can’t speak the truth!  Just look at our inane political system!

Let me ask you…

If I told you you could wear whatever you wanted, your jeans, your favorite shirt, hit the stage to adoring fans whenever you played and get all the dope and sex you wanted, would you say yes?

This was the equation back in the golden era of classic rock.  And it was all centered on the music.  If you were good enough, you could rape and pillage across the world, for years, in the case of Robert Plant and Mick Jagger, FOREVER!  Just by being yourself, you earned the keys to the kingdom, you lived in an alternative universe, even better than the real one.

Widespread Panic lives in an alternative universe.  One where everything the dying media says is important is irrelevant.  They hold the record for sell-outs at Red Rocks (with 32). They’ve been at it for twenty plus years, and they’re bigger than ever.

Twenty plus years…  Many of the Top Forty idiots aren’t even that old.  Do we really think they know how to play?  That they’ve got something to say?

Now I won’t say the Panic show was without visuals.  There was a giant disc behind the band that featured geometric shapes, turning and twisting like at the Fillmore.  And there was a plethora of animated spotlights.  But the attraction was the music, plain and simple.

Nobody dressed up for the gig.  The audience looked just like me.  Wearing jeans.  Getting psyched up for the gig had nothing to do with makeup, nothing to do with outfits, it was about head space.  Were you willing to show up, relax your mind and float downstream?

Aided by substances both legal and illegal?

Sure, everybody seemed high, whether each and every one of them was or not.  You see, they wanted to be set free.  That’s what the music used to do, that’s what you’re missing at the Britney show.  Britney’s delivering a movie, Widespread Panic is delivering a dream.

There was a drummer and a percussionist.  A keyboardist dropping in delicious fills.  Dave Schools held down the bottom like he had a monopoly on mud in the delta.  But what was most fascinating was the guitar interplay between John Bell and Jimmy Herring.

Jimmy’s amps said "Fuchs" and "Tone Tubby".  This was not generic, the equipment had been hand-selected, to deliver this exact tone.

There was no click track, nothing was prerecorded.  But the band instantly found a groove and laid down in it, pulling the entire audience along.  And the electricity was palpable.  It was like every attendee was plugged into a socket, causing them to twist and turn, jump and groove to the music.

Music.  That’s what’s been sacrificed.  You didn’t used to go to the show to hear the expected, but the unexpected.  The band was good enough to pull you along whether you knew the material or not.  It was an ADVENTURE!

That started at 8:15 and ended at midnight.  You couldn’t complain you didn’t get your money’s worth.

So here’s the part where you tell me what Widespread Panic is missing, how it can be changed into a Goliath, a household word.  But the band DOESN’T GIVE A FUCK!  Don’t you get it?  THEY’RE DOING IT THEIR WAY!

And their way is pretty good, better than yours, because almost a quarter of a century in, they can still work, they can still live the lifestyle, they can still feel the rush of the audience’s applause.

You can play the old game.  But it doesn’t pay the dividends it used to.  Rihanna may be big in the mainstream, but more people want to see Widespread Panic.  If not today, definitely tomorrow.

We’re rebuilding.  And we’re starting with music.

It’s a much slower build.  Flash, explosions, sexuality get instant attention.  But do you really care who won the third season of "Survivor"?  "Big Brother"?  The endless string of one hit wonders run together.  Those who make music first and foremost, who follow their instincts, their creativity, are the ones who stand for ages.

You may get screams at a Britney show, but you don’t get the passion you experience at a Widespread Panic gig.  At a Panic show fans feel the music.  They want to get closer.  They don’t want to watch, they want to be a part of it!

And listeners are key.  Great performers feed off the energy of their audience.  How can you do that when your entire act is on hard drive?