I didn't used to mention this show as being one of my favorite shows that I've caught, but I'm beginning to think maybe I should, and that you should too.

I have brought this show up before as one of my personal favorite Phish moments - seeing the lights indoors during 2001. Blah blah, Hampton, Mothership... I would have sworn the old Knick was about to take off.

This was the only show of the run that I caught, but I think people usually think of the 12/2/03 show (the "official" 20th anniversary show) as being the gem of the run. I implore you to reconsider, and listen to the beginning of set II... The Tweezer -> 2001 > YEM is particularly rich for 2.0; even on just a four night run, this trifecta rings familiar of late Summer tour versions when the guys are all warmed up. After a surprisingly solid first set, we all knew that we were in for a treat when they opened with Tweezer.

Maybe it's unfair to say this show hasn't gotten it's due, but I think that's because the most notable part of it was Jeff Holdsworth's surprise appearance. The question people would ask afterwards was "what was that like?" The answer - well, really cool and historically significant, but his playing / singing was kind of meh. STILL!! What a special moment for everyone involved.

So, I submit for your consideration that this show has had an undue "meh" vibe attached to it, and that it's the true CLASSIC Phish show of the 20th anniversary run. Re-listening 9 years later, it has aged incredibly well.

(Published in the second edition of The Phish Companion...)

There was incredible energy inside and outside the venue all night long with almost no time to take a breather. Pre-show snow flurries, a downtown avenue blocked off and full of fans, spontaneous cheers, and a Boston ticket for face value all combined to put a big smile on my face before the show even began.
Once inside the venue, I didn't notice much security at all. I managed to score some sweet seats in the balcony in the front row and almost-center of the venue. It was my first time visiting Albany, but all my new friends had briefed me on the wonderful history of the venue. We were all pretty psyched about the show and wondering what special guests would be in town, but we had no idea how great this show would actually be.

(Published in the second edition of The Phish Companion...)

Most Phish fans speak of the first time they ever "got it." For most, these stories obviously hold a special place in their hearts. Some border on overly sappy or even religious experiences: a moment where their lives were changed, or some other cliche. The first time I understood Phish wasn't quite so dramatic. It came in seventh grade while listening to “Harry Hood” on A Live One (a rendition which I understand converted many).
My first show was equally special, and nearly every show I've gone to has had that moment where I start smiling and giggling uncontrollably. But it wasn't until this past winter, in Albany of all places, where I finally realized what a special place in my life these four guys hold. I finally understood what the sappiness was all about. I finally, truly, "got it."
My brother and I started our journey from Providence at around 4:00, and soon found ourselves driving in darkness over the Mass Pike, with snow flurries and black ice patches over the Berkshires, to boot. The clouds in those mountains seemed especially threatening that night, and thoughts invariably came into my head of why the hell I was doing this. After all, I had a few major projects to work on for various classes at Providence College, with the semester winding down. I'd be playing catch-up after this, so it had better be worth it. I mean, the Nassau show a few nights before was good, but this kind of work had better be damn worth it for someone as uptight as me, who nearly lost my mind in the traffic of Limestone the summer before.
Finally arriving in the parking lot, I began to calm down. The overwhelming homogeneity of the parking lots outside the Pepsi Arena had a soothing effect on me, and for the first time in a while I was able to laugh at the stereotypes of our scene that we all seem to fit into. With people practically giving away their extra tickets, I began to get the feeling that this could be a very special show.
Then it happened. Completely sober, I became aware of something very special in the air. It came on just as the snow began to fall on those packing into the awesome-looking glass building that is the Knick. The crowd's cheers as we approached the gates were especially electric this night, and those icy roads on I-90 suddenly seemed light-years away.
Then the show. As 8:00 neared I already felt it. That this would be the best show I had ever attended already seemed to be a foregone conclusion. Everything in my body told me it would be. Trey's soaring, orgasmic guitar in “Chalk Dust”, the dark and threatening “Stash”, the majestic “Guyute”, the delicately beautiful “Thunderhead”, and the absolute nirvana of the greatest “Wolfman's” ever, which found its way into “Good Times/Bad Times”, confirmed my earlier belief.
It was only a warm-up, and I wasn't the only one who knew this. The wave from the crowd at set break told me I wasn't, and with the opening notes of “Tweezer” I knew the band was aware of it, too. It seemed inevitable that “Tweezer” would end up going into “2001”; it was just that kind of night. And when they followed with “YEM” it was only a confirmation that this was the show of their four night run. It might not have been their best show ever, but for me it might as well have been. I was connecting with what was happening around me on a level unlike anything I had experienced before.
I was so happy that Jeff Holdsworth got to be a part of this night. Even as a member of the band 20 years ago, he couldn't figure out that something overwhelmingly special was happening, and he went his separate way. Perhaps it was meant to be that he wouldn't be a permanent member of Phish, and I know it wasn't coincidence that the boys found Page to take his place. But on this night, Jeff finally realized the important role that he played in this wonderful band. Jeff has nothing to be ashamed about for leaving, because for those final five songs that night, I know he felt all the joy that music can possibly bring to one person. He finally "got it." And so did I.

An enjoyably inessential affair. The Anniversary run was plenty fun, but nearly every other 2003 show is worth hearing first. The Wolfman's Bro is pure ejaculatory rock celebration and Set II opens well, but the rest is of primarily historical importance (though it was a blast to be there). Which is like saying a kiss is merely wonderful - it's a kiss, don't complain. But especially in light of the end-of-our-rope adventure at IT, this show is a highlights-only kind of download, y'know?

The Wolfman's has some good moments and the Tweezer>2001>YEM is extremely inspired with fantastic drums/bass breakdown at the end of the YEM.
Unfortunately, the momentum shifts when Holdsworth appears and the rest of the show was of the "had to be there" type of experience. Clearly, the band and (especially Trey) was stoked to welcome Jeff back to the stage, but the musical results aren't really worth relistening too. We had very good sidestage seats, and watching Holdsworth try and keep up with the pace of Antelope was pretty funny.

I had a blast at this show, my good friends got free tickets and I got a face ticket to Boston the next night too. Very pumped crowd; lot's of energy in the air.

Absolutely sick wolfman's - if you haven't heard it then do yourself a favor and do so.

Tweezer>2001>YEM wasn't too bad either.

It was fun to see Jeff on stage (almost made this one feel like the real 20th anniversary show), but he was a little rusty on his axe.

My first Phish show. Did not enjoy it at all. Didn't scare me away though, apparently.

This was a really fun show.