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few months ago, life bounced at the usual pace
for Dave Schools. He wasn't in a particularly
celebratory mood. Then it finally dawned on
him: Widespread Panic's silver anniversary had
quietly snuck up on him and his bandmates.
“When you're in a band, you're continually evolving, making
records, getting gigs and considering yourself lucky to be doing
it," says Schools. "And then, inevitably, somebody else reminds
you that it's a watershed moment. Tt really did sneak up."
Widespread Panic performs at the Classic Center on
Thursday, Feb. 10 and Friday, Feb. 11. The venue is situated
on the original spot where the original four members first
performed as Widespread Panic 25 years ago. An additional
Valentine's Day show is set at the Fox Theatre in Atlanta as
well.
"These anniversaries give you a chance to look back and
take stock of how things happened," Schools says. "When
someone reminds me of some statistic like one—that says that
in 1990 we did over 250 shows—I think, 'God, that sounds like
a lot of hard work and a lot of miles.' On one hand, that's the
case, but on the other hand, it's
really nice work if you can get it.
And we were getting it. We must
have been doing right to be able
to play that many shows in a
year—and then survive it."
Schools arrived in Athens
in 1983 from Richmond, VA to
attend UGA. It didn't take long for
him to find like-minded musicians
with whom to jam, perform and
party. Guitarists John "JB" Bell
and Michael Houser were already
working on tunes together when
they enlisted Schools in '84 As
a quartet, they began playing at
keg parties and small clubs with
various drummers before coming
up with a band name that stuck.
"Back then, there weren't many
clubs downtown," says Schools.
"But the drinking laws were very
different. There used to be huge
band parties on campus with
beer trucks on hand. On Saturday
nights, bars would announce last
call at 11:45 p.m., so everyone
would scatter to find house par
ties to go to."
After playing a series of casual gigs and jam sessions, the
band started tightening up and developing a guitar-based,
Southern-rock style. Drummer Todd Nance agreed to keep time
for the band with their show at the Mad Hatter Ballroom in
early 1986. It was a wise move.
"We used to have a Rolodex of drummers," says Schools.
"Sometimes, some of them couldn't make it, or some of then
needed to get paid. The Rolodex ran dry right before that
big gig which was a slot opening for John Keane's [Panic's
longtime studio guru] old psychedelic band, Strawberry Flats.
Another band called The Other Soon was also on the bill—and
that was Paul Thomas' band [Thomas is still known in the scene
as a visual artist, musician and former owner of celebrated
Washington Street hangout and shop the X-Ray Cafe]. We refer
to that as our first show because it was Todd's first show with
us."
The Mad Hatter Ballroom was a large space in the Lyons
Textile building, adjacent to an oyster house called Sparky's
Seafood Cafe. It served as a music venue and rented-out party
room for sororities and fraternities in the early 1980s before
closing in 1987. Old-school Athens indie bands such as Pylon,
R.E.M. and Love Tractor performed many of their first local con
certs at the Mad Hatter.
"Todd really fit in," says Schools of that first gig with
Nance. "He and Mike had already played together around
Chattanooga. We played mostly covers—some a bit more
esoteric than other bands were doing—plus a few of our own
songs. I remember the performance was one of our better
ones... I remember walking off of the stage and not being
pissed. It was a benefit show, so there wasn't any money
involved. I think we ended the set with the one song that we
knew how to end. It was good."
In the early '90s, many of the buildings in the old ware
house district off of Thomas Street were torn down to make
room for the construction of the Classic Center.
"I didn't really see too many shows at the Mad Hatter,"
Schools admits. "I liked to go to the old 40 Watt Club on Broad
Street. I lived in the dorms down by the stadium, so it was
really easy to walk up to the 40 Watt. It was the natural place
to go. Then the Uptown Lounge opened, and I wound up get
ting a job as the door guy there."
Around the time that Schools started checking IDs at the
Uptown Lounge entrance, Bell approached proprietor Kyle
Pilgrim about setting up weekly Monday night gigs at the
venue. Pilgrim agreed, and Panic kicked off a legendary one-
and-a-half-year stint as the house band, which helped build a
strong and loyal local following.
In 1987, the band welcomed percussionist Domingo
"Sunny" Ortiz to the lineup. The next year, they released
their first album, Space Wrangler, on the small Atlanta label
Landslide Records. A self-titled Capricorn Records debut in
1991 kicked off an 11-year relationship with the Georgia-based
label that ended only when the contract ran out. Panic's latest
studio album, Free Somehow, came out on the band's own label
imprint, Widespread Records.
"We've always called the shots, and I won't say that it
wasn't for lack of wishing that we might have landed that
enviable pipe dream of a record contract," says Schools. "But
even in the days when labels were snapping up so-called jam
bands like Blues Traveler and Phish, they were always trying to
tell us, 'Can you take that middle part out that doesn't seem
to have anything to do with the song?' And we would respond,
'But we kind of like that middle part where it is.' It was more
like, if we want to be viable, we need to figure out our own
model. We're doing this so we can stop having people who
don't even know about the band make suggestions. I mean,
once we established ourselves as an independent thinking
group, then we had people who understood the band collabo
rate with us. We didn't have to fight Capricorn too much over
the music."
Keys man and songwriter John "JoJo" Hermann (formerly
of Mississippi band Beanland) officially joined Panic in 1992.
The additional keyboard and organ sounds allowed the band to
elaborate on their Southern-fried mix of rock, soul and blues
styles. Panic's riff-based rock grooves resembled elements of
Allman Brothers, Skynyrd and Little Feat more than the more
psychedelic noodlings of California hippie rockers like the
Grateful Dead or Jefferson Airplane. Compared to the jangly,
more artsy college rock in town, they stood out like fuzzy
weirdos.
During the 1990s, a notion developed that certain Athens
bands belonged in certain corners of the music scene. Some
acts were more Georgia Theatre while others were more 40
Watt. Hipsters versus hippies. Indie rock verses jam rock.
Schools chuckles at that theory. "Athens has always been
really experimental," he says. "I chalk it up to a combina
tion of things. One, Athens is, indeed, Mayberry on acid. Two,
there's a big college there, so there are a lots of people who
may not necessarily be struggling to stay in their house. And
three, it's just such a tight-knit musical community that there
are always experiments happening. In most towns, bands will
try to stomp each other out of existence so that they can get
the lion's share of attention. In Athens, it was always different
to me. I startec. noticing that in other college towns.
Heavy road work and adven
turous musical collaborations
(onstage and in the studios)
strengthened Panic's confidence
in their early years. The group
gained a reputation as a solid live
band with sophisticated instru
mentation and great chemistry.
Their success was a gradual,
steady and determined process.
"The important thing to get
across is that a lot of the models
we set we did out of necessity,"
says Schools. "It wasn't like we
had this great plan of indepen
dent anarchy. People just weren't
that interested in what we had,
and they didn't see any com
mercial potential—for one reason
or another. But we believed in it
and we were having fun doing it.
At the time, viable meant being
able to keep up rent payments on
the band house, making sure the
electricity stayed turned on so we
could rehearse, and putting gas
into Mike Houser's gas-guzzling
car so we could make it to the gig
in Macon."
After residing in Athens for over 25 years, Schools recently
relocated to Northern California. He looks forward to coming
back to the Classic City and spending more than just a quick
day in his old hometown—not only to perform onstage, but to
reconnect with old friends and catch up.
"These two gigs bear some looking at the past," says
Schools. "Usually, that's not something we concern ourselves
with, but in this case it's probably proper, if not expected.
"Music is supposed to give you a little kick of emotion,
whatever it is," he adds. "I'm starting to feel it now. Then
there's the wonderful fact that the Classic Center is on the
footprint of the Mad Hatter. We'll literally be within yards of
where we originally played. I’m getting excited for these gigs.
I really miss Athens a lot, so it'll be a chance to see people,
hang and think about how I spent more than half of my life
there. I expect to see some familiar faces... with maybe a few
wrinkles added."
T. Ballard Lesemann
FEBRUARY 9, 2011 • FlAGP0LE.C0M 17
