After high school, he was introduced to the band by some friends who’d moved to Burlington to attend the University of Vermont. McLean lived in Hebron, New York, having moved there with his family from Arizona. He’d been a Deadhead—turned on to them by a much older brother who’d been a camp follower dating back to the Fillmore days—but like a lot of Deadheads of younger vintage, McLean ultimately found Phish’s music and scene more viable after a certain point in time. “They were the first band that was taking all the shit we really liked from the Grateful Dead shows and doing more of it: free-form jamming and real spacy, out-there music,” said McLean. “That’s what attracted me to it, and that was at a time when the Dead seemed much less genuine. The transition for me was like, why would I go on tour to watch that fricking sad junkie [meaning Jerry Garcia] croak onstage when there’s these sick dudes that are playing right down at Nectar’s? That’s what got me going.”
