Is it time, yet? Has it spent long enough fermenting in the ground that we can take it out and do something with it, again? For a bunch of humans who pride themselves on their ability to appreciate the present moment and all the ephemeral beauty it has to offer when the course is uncharted, we sure do enjoy swimming around in nostalgia, don’t we? As I get older this once indulgent tendency of mine has waned and I see the irony of hoping to relive the moments that were only so beautiful in the first place because of how fleeting they were. That perfectly placed note on the crest of a crescendo that just as quickly comes crashing down on the other side. How long can you stay surfing when you’re busy talking about the wave you caught last week? But you know, as I get older time starts to feel a bit more like an illusion, and sometimes we do find ourselves at these milestones and it feels appropriate to check in on what history has to tell us if we put our ear to the dirty, sticky ground. So if I can be permitted the indulgence, let me take you back to the Summer of ’99, and a string of shows I caught twenty years ago, from July 12th to July 21st, and see how a window into that moment in time might help us appreciate this one that much more.

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