login | Register

Down In The Groove with Widespread Panic's Todd Nance (Part Two)

Down In The Groove with Widespread Panic's Todd Nance PART TWO
By James Calemine 

In Part Two Todd discusses Panic's later studio releases, Panic's record-breaking outdoor performance in Athens, the sad passing of Michael Houser, dark days, Panic's live performances, recording in the Bahamas, Jimmy Herring, the group's latest release Free Somehow as well as other essential music stories.

Til' The Medicine Takes was a fine release. The last time I interviewed you was when the live record with the Dirty Dozen Brass Band, Another Joyous Occasion came out. I remember you telling me to tell Danny the next time I saw him to tell him that you got to meet Bob Dylan… they lined y’all all up…

TN: You remember Jackie Jasper…

Oh yeah, she spent many nights over at our place…C6…

TN: You know she loves Bob so much. I always promised her if I ever met him I would say ‘Jackie says hey’ to Bob. We played Alpine Valley. They removed everybody from backstage except us and lined us up--and Bob came down and we all shook hands with him, and I said ‘Jackie says hey!’

But Another Joyous Occasion was a solid release. The band sounded like you were from New Orleans.

TN: Another Joyous Occasion was great because they really did turn us into another band. That always happens when we play with them. They liked us and they were into it. We got along real good. It was another step of experience playing with those guys.

It seemed the time right around Don’t Tell the Band things got a little crazy.

TN: Yeah, things were getting nutso-folks. There were a few gut-wrenching days over at the studio. That’s where JoJo really came in and really helped the band out by being another force and a songwriter to put in there. And with a keyboard things get a little more educated…or it should at least…

…A little more complex…

TN: Exactly. To me, that’s what should happen. When you go from a bunch of knuckleheads strumming three chords to “In-A–Godda-Da-Vida” to ragtime. JoJo was very deliberate and methodical the way he came into the band. He didn’t try to come in and take over. If anything I thought it was kinda slow. We’d pick on him until he stopped referring to the band as you guys and referred to it as us. He was a big component in the album.

Til’ The Medicine Takes and Live at The Classic City were some sonically amazing recordings-

TN: Yeah, by that time we became pretty good players, I remember it went from–when we first started playing it was kind of watery. When we started getting our chops together we got tougher… muscular almost to the point where some of our more laid back fans were a little put off by it. About the time we were playing the Cotton Club - cause we could thump the shit out of it and we knew it, so we did. You worked out for a while and all of a sudden you got a gun (laughs) I remember vividly, people saying ‘You guys sound so hard and aggressive’. And were five guys in our mid–twenties, what do you expect?

This is difficult for me to bring up, but Mikey passing away, really…I can’t imagine how difficult that was for his family and the band.

TN: Yeah, man. James, it was terrible. It was the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever had to go through in my life. You and I have both had to bury way more of our friends than we should for our age. Y’know what I’m saying?

But he was really the most laid back, clean living kind of guy.

TN: Yeah, lifestyle had nothing to do with it. You know, and people thought he sat down onstage because he was a junkie. If you can believe that. Now, we don’t pay attention. We had his 40th birthday party. We tricked him in January with a surprise birthday party –Danny and Eric, Vic Chesnutt, Jerry Joseph--all his favorite people. It was a beautiful fucking party: He’d already been diagnosed with pancreatitis. He had some difficulties on the road, but two months after the party he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. He passed away on August 10th that summer. So, it was real fast. He tried to do two tours with us between that and he didn’t make it through the summer tour. Playing made him happy and being around his family. You can make a decision to tie up any loose ends or look for a miracle. Mikey was a science–minded person–he had a degree in chemistry– he saw the numbers, which were not very encouraging at all for pancreatic cancer. So, he decided to get his affairs in order and try to say goodbye to as many people as possible. Man, it was just the saddest fucking thing I ever went through. We were just stunned because–I swear to God, he died on a day that he knew we could not miss a show. I swear he did that on purpose. It was like 6 or 7 days and we were out in Colorado playing a big show–it was like ‘what are you gonna do stay home, and die too?’ He was very adamant about us keep on going–so we did, but the next four years were rough.

It’s so weird James, when you’re on the road you’re always moving away from your problems. Our light guy was murdered in Austin. He was missing when we had to leave town to go to the next shows…buddy, we were struggling. Then you have to take into account the fans out there, and people would come up and talk to me like he and I and Mikey had grown up together or something. Their intentions might have been good but that’s fucking insulting. It’s like they hear your mom dies and then they come over and talk to you like they’re you’re brother. I did not handle that well at all. That’s when I retreated from hanging out downtown. Everybody feels like they need to come up and tell me what they think about it. I don’t need that. It was a weird thing that happened to me. It caused me anxiety. It was pure unadulterated sorrow.

We finished up. The year before we took a hiatus–we had two sold out shows at Madison Square Garden, and we said ‘Okay, we basically got back on the horse. We’ve proved we’re still able to do it , now let’s go home and cry about this shit’, which we did for over a year. That was great about that year because we all did side projects. When we came back, we all damn sure appreciated each other more. It’s easy to forget how easy it is for me and Dave to play together. All you got to do is try a little taste of the other side of the fence--and I’ll be here waiting for you when I get back. You know, I played the Barbara Cue thing for eight years and made three albums. It was a few years before Mikey passed when that started. Some of the last stuff Mikey ever recorded on when he was sick. I’d take him over to Dave Barbe’s with me and he had songs that he’d written he thought were too country for Panic– kinda like Danny with his solo stuff, and we recorded with Barbara Cue. He had some really cool songs. Danny talked about one song, and I agreed with him called “Bull Run”. That was a cool experience because we did it in rehearsals and he tried to play as much as he could. Randall Bramblett and George were both there to fill in. At the dinner break I was telling his wife–I was taking him (Mikey) over to David Barbe’s house because we were going to record over there. Some of the last stuff he did was with me and the Barbara Cue guys with David Barbe. I’m really glad that we did that.

When did the band begin to think along the lines of starting their own record company? It seems like a real headache.

TN: It’s an overwhelming proposition. The first thing we did independently was Another Joyous Occasion, I believe. Then after that we met Sanctuary Records and they were really good to us in the same way that they would give us the money–a quarter of a million bucks-to record your album. I’ve been John’s (Keane) studio before, working with other artists, and he’d be getting fucking emails from people at record companies putting in their two cents worth for the mixes. And it’s like is that’s the way it is? It’s a fucking nightmare. Like I said, that’s one thing we never had to deal with…we were on Capital Records for a short time through Capricorn. They’d lost distributorship. I remember going to New York to the board room at Capitol Records and listening to somebody else tell us what they are going to do for us–or whatever, but our relationship with record companies were--we never took money from them. We were always self–sufficient. We didn’t give away anything. You remember that guy that was with Bloodkin–he worked for Capricorn–he was going make them sign a management deal with them which guaranteed him a salary per week, plus a percentage of the gigs. Of course, you know, they didn’t do it and they weren’t on Capricorn. Bands routinely get ripped off like that. I’m not saying we were more savvy but we never fell into those traps.

Time takes another turn on Ball

TN: Yeah Ball was a toughie, but it was to find out if we could still do it or not. I never listen to any of these albums. One day I’ll sit down and listen to them, but I never go back and listen to our music after I listen to the mixes. I don’t even let my wife listen to it when I’m in the house. When I come off the road I make her take it all out of the stereo. You asked if we got reflective and I never took the blinders off until Mikey passed. Then I said ‘next chapter’. I’d start looking around in our rehearsal space and seeing all this stuff we accumulated over the years from other bands and shows. But before… it was, ‘what’s your favorite show? The next one. Let’s go.’ People say, ‘Don’t you listen to your own shows?’ No.

People don’t really understand why you can’t hear your own stuff. You play it, so you don’t really need to hear it all the time.

TN: You can’t enjoy it. Do you enjoy reading your own writing?

No, only years later when I forgot about it can I go back and read it….always in another era away from when it was written. The next story is always waiting to be told. Just like you’re next gig…

TN: I can’t even tell you what songs are on what albums for the most part.

You play them in a more abstract way than adhering to album sequence, or whatever...

TN: That’s what I meant by being responsible for that by being able to have a different show every night we do know them enough. We can take a song I haven’t played in years –if I hear it in my head, I don’t forget. There’s nothing Michael Houser ever played that I’ll forget or forgotten. He could play a little ditty for me one time and I’d remember it for the rest of my life. You got to remember, he and I learned how to play music together. He used to give me guitar lessons over the phone. I’d tie the fucking phone to my head with a belt from a bathrobe. I’d sit there and play. I remember he taught me how to play “2112 Overture” by Rush like that. I can still play that motherfucker (laughs).

But on Ball we didn’t know what we were going do. We brought George (McConnell) over but we didn’t know if we were going to try different guitarists or what. We got a couple contributions out of him there–it didn’t seem to be broke in our minds. It was like JB said two or three years ago at rehearsal–‘I couldn’t make this band if I tried to get in it now’. I understood, because the thing was there’s so much to learn. Like Jimmy Herring, he’s such an accomplished and great player but he works so fucking hard. I swear James, he works like a fucking Trojan to learn this material. We don’t have to sit around and play the same song five times, which we wouldn’t do anyway. You remember when Bloodkin was auditioning drummers…

Oh Lord. People who didn’t even own a drum kit showed up.

TN: That’s why you have such contempt for the process…teaching someone to play a song you’ve played half your life. The shit just ain’t fun. Also, Jimmy loved Led Zeppelin as much as I did. He grew up digging on the same stuff that we all did and he also wanted to be a contributor in songwriting. He never had the opportunity for it until now. One might think he writes that real music school kind of stuff, like coming up with a harder equation than the last one, but that’s not how he writes. He writes melodic beautiful compositions and they feel good. He’s not just technical and fancy for the sake of that. I feel like he’s found what he’s always been looking for.

When I went up to the One For Woody show Jimmy told me the story about the first time he played with the Allman Brothers. He said he was up onstage and Allen Woody got two inches from Jimmy’s face and said ‘Who the hell are you?’

TN: Well, to fill the story in–Dickey (Betts) got arrested that night. See, we were playing with them. So, Jimmy was called downstairs. The next thing you know, Warren is showing him how to play Allman Brothers stuff. That was his introduction to play with those guys.

The way Jimmy told it really embellished Woody’s memory.

TN: And Woody could be a very imposing character. That was the night after The Light Fuse Get Away show we talked about when Mule played at the 40 Watt. So at that show in Athens, I’m backstage with my parents and Woody tried to pass a joint to my mom. (collective hilarious laughter). I was like, ‘I’ll take that.’

You had to run interference…

TN: I thought holy shit. I said ‘Woody quit passing my mom pot.’ I’ll never forget that long as I live. But that Athens show…I remember people asking me what it was like playing for that many people and the more people there are the less you see them. I can remember, looking back at my mom and my brother sitting on a cooler--hoping we didn’t run out of beer because my brother chastised the shit out of me one of the first times we headlined the Fox Theatre (in Atlanta) we ran out of beer. That was the thing, don’t fuck up in front of mom, and don’t run out of beer for my brother.

They wouldn’t have made it out for a beer run that day…

TN: You got that right. Every beer in that town was gone that night.

Well, Free Somehow sounds awesome.

TN: You got it? Cool.

I already wrote the review. You and Dave have developed into a formidable rhythm section…

TN: Well, I appreciate that. We’ve played together for so long and stuff-we’re good like that, but he’ll go with me, or I’ll set him up for the slam dunk. I’ll set him up--he’ll knock them down. The band trusts me--not to lead, but drive.

One of my favorite historic Bloodkin shows, was when you played drums with them at the High Hat in September of 96 for the release party, I believe.

TN: Yeah, one of my favorite things I’ve ever done is Creeperweed.

That night at Panic’s practice space when they recorded “Mercy Train To Bogart” was classic. Remember I was sitting at the piano because no one was playing it?

TN: You, Guido, and Stigler were the only other people there…

Besides the musicians and the guy who recorded it…

TN: That was part of the Scooge Sessions. We were all playing acoustic instruments. I had a kick, a snare, a high hat. Danny was playing acoustic guitar. Chris was on acoustic bass and Eric was playing a dobro. We were all in doorways in this one room. It was like a hundred degrees. There was a bat flying around, cat shit in the fireplace. We played until we were too fucked up to play. But I love that fucking record.

Talk about how the band hooked up with Terry Manning.

TN: Dave did a record with Jerry Joseph–Stockholm Syndrome–and they recorded their album down there. It’s not that we were unhappy with John Keane–we made album after album there. The main thing we were getting tired of we’d be in town recording and word would get out, and it wasn’t as homey-feeling as it used to be. It was probably good that we did take a break from each other because it made us appreciate each other again. But Terry heard something in the sound that he liked and thought he could make it even better. So we went down and it was an interesting relationship because he is one of those producers who is basically used to someone like Beyonce or Josh Duncan who go down there, get in a room and sing the same song and overdub for a month, but at the same time he did Led Zeppelin, Al Green, Tupac, ZZ Top, George Therogood–I always gave him shit for that--the Talking Heads…his range is unbelievable. I’d written this one song and he goes ‘Have you ever heard “Gallows Pole”’? I had to laugh to myself, and I said, ‘Yeah, maybe once or twice’. He set the drums up the way he set Bonham’s up–down at the end of the hall for a couple songs. He had a mandolin Jimmy Page left there. He had a guitar--it doesn’t have documentation--but everyone is pretty much 100% sure that it was one of Robert Johnson’s guitars. JB played it–they didn’t even tune it–it was in tune with itself. Who knows what key it was in. We just bent the music to go with it. I think that was one of those special songs JB did in one take. We had a couple of them that were really cool moments. That was on Earth to America.

…recorded in the same place as Free Somehow--

TN: Right. The difference between Earth To America and Free Somehow we were still with Sanctuary Records when we did Earth To America so this last album was on our dime. It’s pretty fucking expensive in the Bahamas. I mean, just shipping the gear down there. You have to take everything because you just can’t run into a music store when you need something. And you can’t overnight it through customs and all that stuff. Manning made it work. He found a common ground with everybody in the band. It was a good experience. We had some tense moments but compared to what most bands run into with producers, I have a feeling it was a cake-walk with us. It’d hate to be in a band where everybody gets thrown out except the lead singer. That happened with the Neville Brothers. Willie Green–playing drums on Yellow Moon with that producer, oh shit…what’s his name…
…Daniel Lanois…

TN: That’s right…Daniel Lanois…

He made another record we’re both fond of--Willie Nelson’s Teatro--

TN: Oh, I love Teatro. I didn’t remember he was involved with that…

Lanois did great stuff with Emmylou, Dylan, Chris Whitley

TN: I’m so glad Steve Earle quit writing fucking records about how much he hates Bush. Man, you know Jerry Joseph and Chris Whitley used to tour together. I never knew that and Jerry is a very close friend of ours. I love Chris Whitley. He died on my birthday – November 20. Danny's daughter and I have the same birthday. Yeah, I love Chris Whitley. I heard he hit the bottle heavy.

I think towards the end he started to come apart a little bit at his shows. Maybe he knew something was coming. How long did it take to record Free Somehow overall?

TN: Everything was done in two weeks. In two weeks we were out of there. We wrote Free Somehow in January of 07 and we recorded it in May of 07. We had about 22 songs. We came home, went straight on spring tour, came off spring tour in May, went straight to the Bahamas, recorded that record in two weeks. We came home, went on Summer tour – last year was busy as shit–wasn’t home three months last year.

You’ll hit the road again in April…

TN: April 1st I think.

How’s Greta, by the way?

TN: She’s doin' good. 

What do you think–over all these years in the band–has been the hardest thing to learn?

TN: Well, basically, dealing with people who love what you do who might have a weird idea about things. It bothers me. I hear two things like ‘Don’t you feel under- appreciated?’ I’m like, No, because drummers might not talk about me being the greatest drummer, but guitar players will. Y’know, Luther Dickinson came up to me and he was like ‘Man, I just love your groove’. I either hear that or I was God and could do no wrong. Sometimes they give you too much credit and instead of saying thank you, I try to explain, ‘You don’t understand.’ The hardest thing for me to learn was just take the compliment.

After a while you just take the insults and the praise with a grain of salt. You don’t believe too much of either…

TN: Exactly. It’s so weird. That’s why I always love talking to you…when you write, you describe something. I’ve never heard you say, ‘This band sounds like this group or that group. You write the story. I could never try to write like you. You’re an artist…

Well, thanks. Coming from you, that’s a high compliment. You should hear me play the drums. Some of this latest record ranks as some of the bands finest songs. The song “Free Somehow”–“Three Candles”

TN: Oh, that’s so cool you say that. 

“Up All Night” is a fine one. Ol’ Jimmy Herring…he fits in really well. And he’s coming in during a re-awakening of the band.

 TN: Yeah, someone wrote that now is our kind of regeneration thing. Which is kind of fitting, with Mikey passing we were just trying to…

…Maintain…hell, you’ve got a huge family to support.

TN: See, that’s another thing too James. If I fuck up--I’ve got a condo out in Colorado when I go, I’m not going to ski because if I blow my knee out and can’t play, I’ve got people depending on me. And it’s not the ones that chose to be–it’s their children…

You feel obligated…

TN: Not only that, but I’m going to make sure that they are going to have a good life if I have anything to do with it. They’re going to be able to get the shoes or whatever. They’re going to be taken care of.

Looking back…they’re have been so many…but what have been some of the high points…the low ones are obvious…I mean, meeting Bob Dylan is one-

TN: Yeah, that was a big one. For me, meeting Ritchie Hayward from Little Feat- I was scared to talk to him because I thought he might be an asshole. Mikey met him and talked to him and brought him over to me – so hanging out with him was cool. Playing with Carlos Santana. Playing with Steve Winwood. Jorma Kaukonen. Playing with Winwood was a big moment for me, I loved that. Other little things too y’know. The fact that we all still ride the same bus together. On days off we still hang out with each other–not as much as we used to, but we’re still the same as it used to be.

Panic usually doesn’t need opening bands…

TN: When you lease out the arena it’s for so many hours and our show could possibly run for three and a half hours easily. So, the window of opportunity is usually the reason to have others out, and another reason is our fans aren’t interested in seeing anyone else. It used to break our hearts to play with somebody–War is playing with us and the kids are like ‘They’re playing a Panic song!’ We may have openers for a few shows here and there, but I don’t know who it might be…

Well, at least you still have a good six weeks off.

TN: Let’s see, we’ll get together about a week before April. So, yeah, I got about six weeks.

What are you listening to these days?

TN: Pretty much the same old shit. I listen to a lot of Athens bands. A lot of Vic Chesnutt. A lot of Bloodkin. A lot of Drive By Truckers. I like a band called Spoon. There’s a band called Built to Spill I kinda like. You might want to check them out.

I did an interview with David Barbe a few weeks ago.

TN: Yeah, I read that actually.

Hell, I’m interviewing Jim Dickinson on Saturday.

TN: All right, man. That’s big time. That should no doubt be an interesting read. Y’know old Luther’s in The Black Crowes now.

Yeah, that’s who put me in touch with Jim. I remember the first time I saw Luther and Cody was in 1990. They were playing as Jim Dickinson and The Hardly Can Playboys in Memphis.

TN: Luther and Cody are unbelievable musicians.

It should be interesting with Luther in The Black Crowes

TN: He’s got the temperament for it. He’s a pretty laid back guy. I guess if you don’t get involved in the arguments between the Robinson brothers he’ll be ok.

Yeah, I can’t picture Panic fist fighting during sound check or allowing the dirty laundry to fall out…

TN: Exactly. We don’t air our dirty laundry in front of people. Y’know, now we’ve gone back and had some frank discussions and stuff like that but if I’m mad at Dave, I’m not going to say something derogatory about him in front of fans or anything like that.

Talk about the Compass Pointe Horns who played on Free Somehow.

TN: Yeah, I think it’s pretty much the same guys who played on Earth To America. I got to meet them once. We were there for two weeks and then we were on tour so pretty much the rest of the record Terry was responsible for and he would send us what he’d done, and we tell him what we liked and what we didn’t. Jimmy Herring was like, ‘What band at this level records and overdubs their record in two weeks.’

In the Bahamas… (laughs)

TN: I’ve never even been to Nassau. I’ve been there four times and I’ve never even seen the town on that island.

It’s not like you’re in Atlanta or Nashville where you can get in the car and drive home…that’s moving the whole operation…

TN: It really is–you got to get together a month or so before you go and really put together a list of what you need down there. You have to be self–sufficient. Like I said, if I don’t have the right size drum head I can’t send someone down to the local music store because you’re in a third world country. The studio experience–it doesn’t matter where they are--it’s the same thing because you’re always and basically inside the studio or on the way back to where you’re gonna sleep. Everybody’s like “Oh, tough life – recording in the Bahamas.’ I never even stepped foot in the ocean (laughs) I got to go fishing one day though. We got to work, if we didn’t we’d feel guilty. Like I said this last album was on our dime, so we were trying to be efficient as we could. Poor Sam (manager) was about to have a heart attack.

It has to make you feel good to know you’ve become a pillar in Athens’ music community…

TN: The thing you gotta remember too–back in the day, you didn’t have money for food, but you could get a free meal at The Taco Stand one day, or somebody would feed us over at Steve-a-rino’s one day.

You’ve told me once before, in the early days, John Boy (Donley) supported the band in certain ways. I’m sure there was a network of people who assisted the band.

TN: People we knew downtown they gave a lot for us, but not the scene…the scene really overlooked us for a while. It was a show we did in 2000 when people bragged on us–that’s an Athens band, which was weird–it doesn’t bother me. One of the reasons was because we were never there anymore. We were always out on the road. We never felt like an Athens band for a few years, but that all changed too. A lot of people put a lot of effort into helping us out to get where we are and we don’t forget that. A lot of bands just leave those people by the wayside. I know a couple of bands that have actually done that to the point where we’ve even hired some of those people they cast out. It just seems easier to be loyal.

Every so often we’ll have to keep these dialogues going…

TN: You know, usually, Ellie may have told you this, but basically if I talk to a so-called music journalist for more than 20 minutes it’s a rare thing. They don’t do their homework. They don’t know anything about the band. They ask stupid questions. It’s rare to talk to someone like you who can actually write.

Hey, do you still have that beautiful hollow-body Gibson guitar? I remember one time, over at your house you had it out…

TN: Oh yeah–still got it.

I’ve got some great photos of you I’ve taken through the years. Some are from the New Years show in Macon with you and John Boy…

TN: Holy shit. See, that’s another angle you have on the band. You watched the development of it all. One thing I wish could happen big time is you could write a really definitive article about the band. You could talk to everyone in the band…you’ve got the angle and the ability.

It’s interesting, because the older I get the more significance those early accomplishments, friendships, and connections of the past hold. Panic, no matter what people say, play the game by their own rules.

TN: We all stay involved with people who believed in us like the Michael Rothschilds… even the Phil Waldens. When we talk to people we see if they believe in this thing and make it want to happen. One of the things that turns this band up better than anything, we were in the Bahamas making the record and our management said you guys want to make a big deal out of your twenty year anniversary? And we said, ‘No, let’s wait until 25 years.’ For a band to even consider that fact… most bands can’t make five years, much less 25. We try to find like-minded people, unfortunately there aren’t many…

…they are few and far between…

TN: …they really are…

Having graduated from The University of Georgia, living with Bloodkin all those years and all the folks I’ve known, it’s a pretty compelling story that all fits together. Even back then, Danny, Eric, and I went through some incredibly funny times, sad losses, weird shit and everlasting collaborations…and beyond that, it’s like family because you realize how fragile it all is.

TN: I know Danny would never admit to it, but he’s had to feel frustrated when kids ask him to play that Panic song that he fucking wrote. He’s gotta feel a little of that why not me kind of thing, but at the same time you gotta be relentless about the whole thing. People always used to fucking ask me what is it with Bloodkin? I’m like, what do you want me to tell you? They write music, they love music, they love to play it, but maybe they didn’t fall in with the right outside people. I’m not sure, but the thing about Panic, we’re pretty tenacious as far as doing what we do. People ask, ‘Did you ever plan this?’ We just wanted to be able to play music and not…

…work a job…

TN:…not work a fucking day job… it’s that simple.

It’s harder to do than people think.

TN: They have no idea. I love my parents because they’ve seen the whole process from the days when we slept on the floor to now and what it’s all come to. My parents knew it made me happy–they’re proud as shit of me and the whole thing. All our parents are now, but it didn’t start out that way….not at all.

I guess every parent fears their child selling their soul for Rock and Roll…

TN: Yeah, because you might have a better chance getting hit by lightening twice than you do making a career out of being a musician with a band. You can still be a musician, but to be able to live a nice life and be able to staff so many people that derive a living from what you do is rare. It takes a lot of stick–to-it-ness, a lot of fuck everybody else.

Consummate professionals I’d say. We should cook something up in the spring and streamline a story.

TN: You just call me. I’d really love to have a relationship between the band and you where you could speak for us. The other guys would be convinced of that. You could write a great history of Widespread Panic–maybe I shouldn’t say that, but we went through a lot of shit together James…

Well, let’s strike up the band… 

(Photos credits for this article are Jackie Jasper, Flournoy Holmes, Ryan Dowd and James Calemine)

related tags

Mystery and Manners,

Currently there are 5 comments. Leave one now!

Sirius Satellite Radio Inc.
Copyright 1998-2018 by Swampland Inc. All rights reserved.