Phil Lesh is one of Mike Gordongreatest heroes. Gordon, bassist for Phishbecame aware of Grateful Dead in high school and soon the zone into Lesh. The two met briefly at a show in 1993, but it wasn’t until 1999 that they began a friendship that continued until Lesh’s died in October. Here, in a tribute that will appear in our December issue, Gordon reflects on what he learned from Lesh, their frequent onstage collaborations and the heartbreaking version of Phish’s “Box of Rain” played right after Lesh died.

I thought Phil was the most unique part of the Grateful Dead. It didn’t surprise me that Bob Dylan said that in his book Philosophy of Modern Singingwhen he talked about (“Truckin'”). Usually all these expectations are in the bass: lots of recurring patterns, having a loyalty to “the one” and to the keynote. Phil had none of these loyalties. He avoided them all.

Do you ever whiz a little too hard? At one point, when I first met Phil, I sent an email that said something like, “From my humble perspective, the Grateful Dead have integrated all human art forms to a new level, and in a way that pushes my buttons more than anything else — an incredible culmination of all the creativity and resonance that came before. And on top of what makes the Dead unique is your playing, and therefore you are, as far as I can tell, the pinnacle of all Western civilization.”

The first time I really met him was in ’99, when Trey (Anastasio) and Page (McConnell) did shows with him at the Warfield (in San Francisco). I was there for all three (shows). For one of them I sat behind his bass, up on stage, practically leaning against his bass. It was quite thunderous.

I asked if he would have lunch with me. This is a big hero of mine, and he came to my hotel, and they had made special menus that said “Bass Players Luncheon” on them. He said, “I will keep this forever.” It was only four years after Jerry passed away. I remember him talking about it a lot and being a little angry that Jerry seemed to choose drugs over his friends. With people who know addiction, it’s more complicated than that. (But the lunch) was special. I had rented a scooter, which I zoomed around San Francisco on, and after lunch I asked if he wanted a ride. He was like, “No, I’m going.” Which is probably a good thing.

Phil invited me to do these really special things over the years. For his 60th birthday, he invited me to come and play bass on “Box of Rain” and a few other songs. Guys from Little Feat played. He also invited me to play at this gig he called the Bass Summit. It was one of the times I played his bass. He asked me to help come up with the songs I wanted to play. We played “The Maker,” the Daniel Lanois song, because it has two bass lines. I suggested doing “All About That Bass.” He threw that right away.

This was a huge gig. When I sat in with Phil, I often played the electric banjo, but (this time) the electric banjo didn’t work. So Trey (Anastasio) gave me his guitar. And I raged on the guitar. What was shocking to me, even though I was a fan all these years, was how powerful Phil’s bass rig was. It was just larger than life. All I really cared about was being up there and hearing Phil’s tone. After a couple of songs, Trey was like, “OK, maybe I should take (my guitar) back.”

The day he passed away, (Phish) opened our concert with “Box of Rain.” We didn’t have much time between learning the news and the show, and there were all kinds of things going on. I had some guests I wanted to meet, catering and heating, and all of a sudden the news comes.

So all of a sudden I have 30 minutes left until the band has to go into our little rehearsal room and then put on the show. Phil liked to write these songs that didn’t repeat their forms. Never mind the bass notes; each verse is an unbroken chain, each verse is different. I know the other band members were sometimes frustrated: “Why couldn’t it be easier to remember?” I have 10 or 12 pages of “Box of Rain” spread out on a coffee table.

(Phish) jumped into our room and decided we were just going to do three-part harmony all the way through (“Box of Rain”), and we couldn’t work it out. We just had to go for it and see if we could iron out a few kinks. Apart from our early years, playing Grateful Dead songs – not just Grateful Dead songs, but tracks that they would use – has been taboo – too early on we were compared to them too much. So it’s only every other decade that we play a Grateful Dead song. I have this picture of all these people in the front row just crying from “Box of Rain” that night.

It just comes back to the sense of vision and from having all these influences that assimilate into what you believe, but also having a spiritual base. Phil always talked about the music coming from God. When I made my film Rising Low with 25 remarkable bass players, he said many times when we filmed him: that the notes, the actual notes, come from God.

He had a passion for the (Grateful Dead) repertoire, and he said it could live on for centuries. I think Phil just wanted to see where it could go. Even recently he did projects where he would try to find new permutations for the same repertoire with different people and with different approaches. When people go through longer periods of their careers, there are different ways to deal with it. There’s something extra special about people who keep doing the same thing, because they somehow get better at it.

I also thought about the last visit, which was in March (at a Phil Lesh & Friends show), where I got to give him his 84th birthday cake before the encore. He asked if there were any songs I wanted to do. I picked some that I hadn’t played before, and I sang one of them.

Sometimes it works with two bassists, and sometimes it doesn’t. But what was really interesting to me that night is how what we did on the bass and (our) tones were so different, despite how influenced I’ve been. And the bass lines, the approach was so different that they actually complimented rather than stepped on each other’s toes. It was a really good mix. Phil was smiling the whole time, and his bass technician, Brian, later said that he doesn’t usually smile that much. Afterwards, Phil said, “We have to do this again.”

(After the Amazon documentary Long strange journey came out in 2017) I asked him, “Is legacy important to you?” He said: “I think it’s the music itself that can only endure and people can continue to deal with it in new ways. I think it will last a long time.” I think if people can allow themselves to get into the Dead’s music, they will find that there has never been more beautiful bass playing. Beautiful and powerful. There is this indescribable quality that just blooms like a little bud that turns into a flower, and then a forest of flowers in front of your soul all in minutes, period. It’s that ability to conjure, to be able to tell that magic is going to happen. It will happen because the universal spirit will come through me and allow it to happen.

It all sounds idealistic and a little heady, but if people can get past that wall of “Oh, this is weird” and allow themselves to experience it, what they’ll see is this big, huge, beautiful style of play and approach to music it is simply unprecedented. And it will never be like that again.