The Core: Widespread Panic
photo: Ian Rawn
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Guitarist John Bell and bassist Dave Schools look back on an impactful year that included the new records Snake Oil King and Hailbound Queen and a series of cancelled shows following Jimmy Herring’s cancer diagnosis.
Old-School Approaches
JOHN BELL: We’ve been taking our time and doing two-to-three day runs at various little studios, just to woodshed, get some ideas down and then get them on a decent format so we can listen to them and watch them grow—no matter what state they are in. Sometimes one guy will come in with an idea or maybe [drummer] Duane Trucks will have a little voice memo on his phone from one little thing we were doing during soundcheck and, little by little, that will become something. In the old days with the record companies, you went in with deadlines and then you might listen back and go, “I wish I did this or that differently.” Now, we can go into the studio for two or three days and then I can drive around in my truck and listen to the roughs and say, “That part is great, but these parts don’t work.” Then I’ll hash it out with the guys.
I’ll always leave one of our sessions with a version of the piece of music that we’re working on that doesn’t have vocals and one that does. And sometimes I’ll have them take out my guitar, too. I have my little home setup. So I’ll just pipe that in and try different melodies and vocal ideas and put that on the USB to listen to when I’m back in my truck. I’ll work on it, shoot it off to the guys and they’ll listen to what I’ve come up with on their phones. The creative process is ongoing, but we don’t have record labels breathing down our necks or people with agendas and stuff. It’s very freeing. So we just kept chipping away at all this stuff until we were in a good place and then we’d polish everything up in the studio and do the usual overdubs.
The idea to release it [as two vinyl records] is that CDs have run their course. Most everything’s in the streaming or single format as far as how people are getting their music. And vinyl albums just sound really good. When I listened to the test pressing it was like, “Oh, crap, I forgot.” It’s like how I used to hear music as kid or the first time I listened to music after my first beer. The album cover and stuff used to be part of the experience. We’re old school—I was born in ‘62.
We also recorded a couple of other things that were not on the albums. We released “Sundown Betty” as a single during COVID so we decided not to go revisit that and there was another half a tune that we recorded that was good but didn’t fit with this family of songs. We were dealing with old-school sonic limitations. That’s why we split this into two albums.
DAVE SCHOOLS: We’ve been lucky enough to be independent for most of our career—or at least, when we had labels, we were given artistic independence. So we’ve gone through all kinds of different processes in making records over the last 35-40 years. At some point, a few years ago, we recorded “Sundown Betty.” We just thought it would be cool to go in with John Keane and record a new song. Some of us in the band are more streaming oriented than others so we just decided to release it. It shows that we’re working, shows that we’re still writing new music.
Because we all live so far apart, it’s hard to get together and actually do the collaboration thing from the ground up. But there was a session in Nashville several years ago where we recorded the seeds of three songs, and we would go to John’s studio, which is very homey and familiar. Everybody’s really comfortable there. We started going through the process of listening to live recordings of improv jams and some soundcheck stuff where Duane had come up with a beat. We dug in that way, but with no particular finish line in sight. It’s fun to set aside some studio time to collaborate. John is going to record everything. So if you, by chance, come upon something that has the lightning-in-a-bottle quality, then he’s already got it recorded for you.
Then, in the fall of 2023, John was mixing some songs. They were sounding great and we were like, “Well, let’s drop one a month in conjunction with these gigs we do.” We realized that we always do these double albums. We usually try to dash everyone’s expectations, so we thought, “What if we drop an album at Red Rocks? And then people will be like, ‘Where is ‘Halloween Face?’ Where is ‘Trashy?’’” So we decided to do a second volume. I’m really pleased with it because I love conceptual continuity across songs and I love it across album artwork. Beginning with the drop of the first one, little by little, we had Marq Spusta build the album art. And believe me, there were several lengthy email threads about if we should call it Snake Oil King or Snake King Oil or King Snake. It’s like siblings trying to create a big dinner at Thanksgiving. There can be fights, but it was a really cool experience and it’s probably the best way for us to do things for a little while.
[Keyboardist] JoJo [Hermann] was the one who found the term “hail bound,” which none of us had ever heard. I love it when a new word comes up and it actually has resonance. When my parents first started buying records for me, Creedence Clearwater Revival were like The Beatles for a short period of time in that they dropped single after single—sometimes side A and side B were both fighting for the top of the charts. Then, of course, it became about albums for a long while. But I also work with really young bands and sometimes, on their first trip into a real studio, I will ask them if they want to make a record because, though it’s what they grew up listening to, that might not be how they listen to music now. I’ll say, “Wouldn’t you rather pick your two best songs— and take all of the effort and time you would spend recording another eight that may or may not be as good in your mind—and print up a 7-inch with a cool cover and all your information on it to sell at shows?” The big wall of Top 40 is more like a big wall of most listened to curated playlists, and you have these record companies in their death grips trying everything they can to keep their hooks in their artists in order to keep things the way they once were. There are gatekeepers who have no jobs anymore. If you talk to Bob Lefsetz, then he has one opinion. And if you talk to David Lowery, then he’s gonna have the opposite opinion. But it’s an opportune time because any kid can learn GarageBand and make a whole record by themselves—look at Tame Impala.
Keeping the Good Vibes Alive
JB: Our current touring model started as a way to keep the good vibes alive without having to pack up and leave home for eight to 10 weeks at a time. To maintain that kind of thing, you had to play some in-between gigs. We’ve got favorite cities, venues and restaurants we want to visit and familiar faces we want to see so we decided to do these long weekends. It turns out to be about once a month. It’s a little more relaxing—we’ve been at it for a long time, so this is a way to keep us happy and excited. And that comes through in the way we perform. We’ll revisit some old songs—it’s like going through a storage space and saying, “Holy, crap, I really like this thing. Let’s go revisit it.”
When you’ve got a lot of songs and you’re bouncing around from town to town, some things get lost in the shuffle—or maybe you flubbed it up twice in a row and everybody remembers that the next time it comes up so it gets inadvertently shelved.
DS: When you’re young and on the road for a 14-week tour, there’s a lot of time to bring a song from an acoustic guitar and a voice in a hotel to a soundcheck and work on it as a band. And if you know that you might not be in the studio for another year, then playing a song live helps it get its sea legs. Sometimes songs that we don’t imagine would work somehow get recast on the stage and strike a chord with the audience right off the bat. So we just try to record them in a way that we are all happy and satisfied with, and then we try to play them without forcing anything. And if it becomes one of those songs that can be cracked open, as Jimmy would say, it keeps evolving. Heck, some of these songs have been evolving for 40 years.
Playing the way we do now, where we are doing these weekend runs, has given everyone an opportunity to dig deep. Usually an email chain starts going around a week or two before a run and sometimes someone will suggest something we haven’t revisited in a while. It can become more rigorous— some statistician-type informs one of us that we haven’t played song X in over two years and we’re like, “Gee, you’re right. What’s up with that?” Also, Duane came into the band as someone who was younger and had heard the band and seen us live—I remember seeing him sitting in the seats one New Year’s Eve at Philips Arena with his now wife, Jimmy’s daughter. He has a different viewpoint than us. He generally gets really enthusiastic about digging up old songs and putting new spins on old songs. He’ll be like, “How come we never play this? I listened to the studio version and it’s really cool.” And it’s like, ‘Well, we kept falling flat on our faces every time we tried it. I guess we got too clever in the studio.” He’ll be like, “Does it have to be done that way?” That enthusiasm that Duane has brought not only to the process of selecting songs and recording songs, but also just to our performances—he’s a fantastic addition to the band.
Remembering Garth Hudson
JB: We played before The Band early on in Virginia. They had Billy Preston playing with them, and I remember them soundchecking during our set. The stages were right next to each other. They were one of the greatest influences on everybody—that entire era was. For proof, that’s why every city has a classic-rock station. That’s why every painting crew out there in the summer is blaring that music.
DS: My first experience with Garth was literally going to see The Last Waltz at the Byrd Theater in Richmond, Va. during its theatrical run. We went to see it because it had our heroes in it—Eric Clapton, Neil Young, Dylan. Watching Garth in that movie, I always love that story about how he had to tell his parents that he was giving the rest of the band lessons in order for him to be allowed to hang out and do gigs with them. They always looked mismatched, which worked for them, but Garth was the most mismatched of them all. I’d think, “Why is his piano sideways and what’s he doing to the B3?” He’s like Leopold from Looney Tunes with his collar flying around.
Then, at one point, when I was playing with Gov’t Mule, we played in Woodstock, N.Y. Trey and Mike Gordon were there—it was a big deal because they jammed together, and Phish had been on hiatus at the time. It was a party for Rising Low and, as an aside, Mike Gordon helped do that movie, and we did an interview while we were playing ping pong. He said, “You can do a better interview when you’re doing something else.”
At the show, I remember Garth in a wheelchair—just meeting him and not wanting to take up too much of his time. It was really one of those cases where I thanked him for tightening my view on what’s allowed in rock music.
COVID Flashbacks
JB: It was very COVID-like as far as going back into our personal shells while Jimmy went down and did the work. The treatments seem to have done what they were supposed to do. And a large part of that is that Jimmy was an impeccable patient and such a self-healer, just like he presents himself musically. We went with the doctors’ predictions of how his strength was gonna be, checked in with how Jimmy was feeling and waited until we were 80-90% sure that we were going to be able to play a certain date before we announced it. By the luck of the draw, the first one that popped up which we felt like we could do was this February gig in Atlantic City, N.J. In the meantime, we got together on a couple of different occasions and rehearsed for three days—just getting to know each other again and relearning the new songs. It was a gas—even though it’s something I’ve done for 2/3 of my life. Everything’s magnified now—though it is also really good to come up for air every once in a while and see what else life has to offer, whether it’s just working in the garden or traveling a little bit. It’s good to clear out the cobwebs so that you have got something new to write songs about.
DS: I have to hold up my hand and take responsibility for starting last year off by missing three shows in Chicago because of my medical issues. But more than anything, these are reminders that whatever time we have together is important. We need not let it slip away. We all really enjoy playing together. And, for better or for worse, over the last five years, we’ve all gotten used to these forced hiatuses with COVID. Jimmy’s OK and he’s really rearing to play. The way that we went at it when we got back together was really no different than anytime after a break. We carved out some days, got together and tried to get as close to what happens on stage as possible. We had two sessions, and one was really super low-key—we were just sitting around with guitars and playing some songs, talking, laughing and catching up. Then we had what we call “hard rehearsals,” where we went in and set up the stage and basically played three shows. We had a batch of songs that we wanted to work on and some of those are from the past—and some are new ideas for songs that have not yet arisen. The only comment I can make about Jimmy was that we were playing full shows and that bastard had more energy than I did. He’s a ninja, and he’s really excited to be back. You can tell—we are all excited to be playing together again because we all love being together. And once we get our fans in front of us, and the rubber meets the road, anything can happen—from a train wreck to a glorious journey. That’s what we live for. I talked to Mickey Hart about it years ago when I was in his band. It’s that feeling that we get—the X Factor, reeling in the big fish, hittin’ the note. It’s addictive.
Rolling with the Stones
JB: They basically went to us and asked us if we wanted to come in a day early for our regular gig at Red Rocks and open for the Stones at Mile High. We were like, “Well, shit, we’ve never done that before.” It’s a little surreal because it’s a 40-minute set and sometimes we don’t get going until after 50 minutes. We had new material to play, so it felt refreshing. Going and playing an arena feels pretty big. The hallways are long—it’s a long walk from catering to your dressing room and stuff. But you multiply that by 10 when you move into Mile High Stadium. You’re more into golf carts at that point, in terms of traveling around the place. The last time I was at Mile High Stadium was about 30 years ago when I saw the Stones there and we thought they were old then!
Who could duplicate what the Stones have done? When we were watching them this time around, it was a reminder that, in the midst of all this greatness and history, you’re watching a bunch of guys get at it the same way we are trying to. Nobody was phoning it in.
DS: I won’t say that it’s our first time being close to the Stones because our friend Chuck Leavell invited us to watch them rehearse one night in Toronto back in the ‘90s, but I had never seen The Rolling Stones before. However, I’d seen them work up “19th Nervous Breakdown” with Darryl Jones. I got to see Keith Richards eat fish and chips and talk to JoJo about the blues. [At Mile High], we were able to sneak right down in front and watch them. And, of course, there’s the apparent controversy that started when the Panic fans dumped water all over the Stones fans when we played that water song of ours.
Mick was really sweet when he met us before they went on, and he thanked us for helping f ill up the stadium—being a businessman and an icon of rock and-roll at the same time. These guys are some of the reasons that people like JB, Jimmy, me and Warren Haynes wanted to play in the first place.
Next Steps
JB: We’re gonna step in and see how it feels to just go back to the dance. And in terms of new material, I dig the way we let ourselves do this last bunch of songs. We are not going to force ourselves to be in a songwriting mode all the time. But I assume, if we keep flexing that muscle, then maybe we’ll get muscles.
DS: [When it came to choosing what to open our comeback show with,] “Ain’t Life Grand” just seemed so obvious. We are all so happy that Jimmy passed through his treatment successfully. His readiness to get back on the stage was infectious. I figure we are all pretty lucky to be able to do what we do after so many years. And John Keane and Jason Crosby are just family, plain and simple. It seemed like a no brainer to have them join our celebration.
[And in terms of rising musicians citing Panic as an influence], being the self-absorbed individual that I always have been, I can say I’ve watched Billy Strings since he was a teenager. He’s got a great heart. At some point, it came through the grapevine that he was going to be at a festival in Atlanta and he was on the fucking rail watching us. Then meeting him and working with him on the Neal Casal box set, I realized he’s a total pro and he’s a sweetheart, and he does his homework. It’s like how I learned a lot of music history— I learned a lot from the Good Ol’ Grateful Dead.
