One of my favorite albums is Rift by Phish. This is funny to say because before the year 1998 and their album Story of the Ghost, I wasn’t a huge fan of their studio recordings. An interview with Trey discussing his disappointment with earlier recordings made me feel better about this. Anyway, Rift is amazing and one of the things that sticks out for me is the lyrics. Most of Phish’s lyrics tell incredible stories and I have always been inspired by them but lacked the confidence in my art to actually follow through with any visual interpretation. I finally conjured up enough courage to just go with it. Here is my poster for It’s Ice.
Although I feel there is much room for improvement, I’m happy I stuck to it and completed it. I will most likely revisit this very soon to tend to those “ice sculptures” of the man and his reflection. Perhaps a better border blending the ice sculptures? Yes. Probably.
Here is the original sketch.
It’s Ice has always been one of my favorite songs. I love the guitar riffs, Mike’s Bass, Fishman’s drumming, and of course the Chairman of the Boards leading the way with the vocals. I love the story and it always plays out in my mind whenever I hear it.
Aaaand here are the lyrics to the song. Thanks for looking!
I press on the elastic sheet, I’m breathing through a slice
‘Are they worms or are the serpents?’ bubbles through the ice
The source was quite invisible, the ever-present voice
While skating, both legs tracing different shapes, I made my choice
I’m mimicking the image in whose radiance I bask
I’m tied to him, or him to me, depending who you ask
None the less reluctantly reflections tumble in
I slide with all the other on the wrong side of the skin
He’s fallen on the ice, it cracks
Will he plunge in and join me here?
He meets my eyes, to my surprise
He laughs in full light of my frown
My double wants to pull me down
Slipping on the friction slide, my skin peels to the bone
The flesh I leave behind, is something that is not my own
I beg my mirror image for a moment with my soul
He’s leaning back, time to attack, it’s me who’s in control
And every move I make he’s got a hand up just in time
He’s throwing several punches, and he’s blocking most of mine
Defeated now I sulk and squirm above the frozen heights
Waiting, calculating till he ventures onto the ice.