[We would like to thank Doug Kaplan (@mrdougdoug) for recapping last night’s show. You can find Doug all over the world wide web, representing the record label he runs as @HausuMountain on just about every social media platform.]

After spending vacations upon vacations following this band all over the country, there’s nothing quite as luxurious as a local show. After an all-smiles kind of night on the floor last night, my wife and I are enjoying a relatively normal Saturday, hanging out with our toddler, reading her books, and going on a walk to see the woof woofs at the dog park when the sun comes out in the late afternoon. Our amazing nanny arrives at 5:00PM and we’re soon on our way to link back up with Phish’s 2025 summer tour–one which we’ve been closely following. We’ve been so particularly inspired by the masterful improvisation on display, the surprising song selections, the confidence and vulnerability, and the propulsive, muscular, athletic gait to it all. It’s really been working for us this summer.

It’s Saturday night, so you know it’s corn night again. What is corn night you may ask? Have you ever seen a group of between 4 and 40 people wearing corn shirts or corn-related regalia at the Phish show? Well, that’s us, and yes, it makes it very easy for us to find each other, and no we’re not from Indiana, but yes, we do love Deer Creek. Like many parts of the Phish experience, having this silly little tradition among friends instills a through line into our lives, connecting different nights in different cities throughout the years, helping us all construct the narrative of our lives, combatting against the way life can make all the years combine. Tonight is the 23rd official corn night in Phish history, and we all agree that it’s pure Phish corn magic that #23 is happening in MJ’s house. Let’s get ready to rumble

My wife and I land outside the United Center and quickly start running into people we know – two members of the corn-adjacent “Pencil People” crew in town from NYC, friends from the South who I got to see a lot more of during 3.0, and one of my most treasured BFFs from grade school. It’s a beautiful family reunion at the local show. After the obligatory Chicago couple photo with the MJ statue (thanks to @Culture_czar for the photo and so sorry that the streak has ended!), we link up with our old friends and seatmates, also beautifully adorned in corn, and also quite excited to have a night off from toddler time. We approach our seats in the 200 level, straight back, and the show soon begins.

“Life Saving Gun” gets its first ever shot at opening a show, continuing the rave pace established by the first hour of last night’s second set. Though not quite as revelatory as the standout version from Columbus a week and a half ago, LSG is an invitation to step into the psychedelic murk almost immediately, showcasing the throbbing, muscular rhythm section that’s been exciting us all tour long, upping the ante with atmospheric synths, and constantly propelling forward. An excellent, improvisatory set opener that feels like the band is picking up where they left off in last night’s entry.

“Steam” is in the two-slot. By the end of the track, the set’s unique energy is beginning to manifest. Last night Phish came to town red hot and looking to prove something, and tonight they’re so hyper-relaxed that it feels like they live here now and are playing a club gig. The rest of the set plays out like the antithesis of any other rock band’s sold-out Saturday night arena rock concert, leaning on rare tracks instead of greatest hits, embracing a cool, confident downtempo energy, and projecting an overall palette that’s more reminiscent of an outdoor Phish set than an indoor one. We’ll gladly take the glorious A/C though.

Next up is the always welcome “McGrupp and the Watchful Hosemasters”–another sort of languid pick, but massively appreciated for its beauty, technical precision, and whimsical transportive energy. After a brief but glorious visit to Gamehendge, we find ourselves back on planet Earth in a basketball stadium in which Phish has decided to play their only basketball-themed track “The Line” for the first time in many years. Most people didn’t like this song back when it was in the rotation, and I’m not sure how many people like it now, but I’m appreciating that the band is dusting off all of these Fuego-era tracks and paying reverence to the period of Phish that felt very special when it was happening.

“Seven Below” continues the theme of rare, downtempo, but very welcome selections–further dialing in this set’s consistent mood. Instead of going into the verse, the band accidentally kicks straight into the instrumental bridge from the intro, skipping all vocals, and ripping past the song into the solos. This is the kind of risk that presents itself in a set where the band relies on lesser utilized material–there are simply too many songs to keep it all well-rehearsed and to intuit every change. Instead of stumbling, however, the band confidently moves forward together, resulting in the second improvisatory highlight of the set. Though largely type 1, the winter-y shuffle of -7 finds similar ground with the skittering rave-like beats that were so successful last night, and the band delivers a compelling peak.

“Ocelot” and “Ya Mar” glow with a carefree outdoor summer aura, both lesser played tracks in the current catalog that fit right into this set’s whole situation. I’m really enjoying how individualistic and understated this show has been so far, but I’m also starting to think that the energy is perhaps starting to dip a little too low.

“Mountains in the Mist” is not what I was hoping for at this moment, and the crowd also seems to deflate. This track can be such a special and ethereal part of a Phish show, providing a crystalline moment that serves as a gentle hush to counterbalance the constant overstimulation. It feels misspent in this moment, when they’ve already turned the dial down a good amount.

Possibly sensing that they’ve gone a bit too catatonic, Trey wrangles the set back together with a peppy “Golgi Apparatus”, a choice well received by the audience. It’s probably the most recognizable Phish track of the set so far, and feels absolutely triumphant, even with a little bit of slop.

“Most Events Aren’t Planned” nicely wraps a bow around the set, beginning in a confidently cool, relaxed, nowhere-in-particular-to-be sort of space that perfectly tethers it to the preceding set, before sending everything back out again into the stratosphere with one final rave-up.

In front of a nearly sold out Saturday night audience, Phish delivered a knotty, mellow set, almost completely devoid of greatest hits, leaning into an almost leisurely energy. Prior to the summer tour, people both in my social circle and on the forums were complaining about the song selection and set construction getting stale, leading towards shows becoming somewhat predictable. This set is wildly exciting from a song selection standpoint, and notable for its coherency of vibes. It’s not necessarily a set I’ll be revisiting often, but one that was unique, laser focused on a mood, and full of surprising songs that even the most diehard of fans haven’t seen in a few years. Overall it was a pretty ballsy move for Phish to deliver that particular set to the Saturday night crowd in the biggest arena show they’ll play all summer. When you think they’re going to zig, they always zag.

During my setbreak trip to the restroom, I encounter a teenager who seems to think that he’s in the bathroom line but is actually just standing behind a group of people chilling. I shepherd the lad into the line, and I specifically select the word “lad” because I soon discover that this teenage Phish fan is from London and is attending his very first show. Corngrats! The full scoop is that his dad is a fan and decided to take the family to Chicago for family vacation and some shows too. Thank you for choosing to visit our city–hope you’re loving it! I let him know that I thought that the set was a bit more mellow than average, and that it seemed more tailored towards longtime listeners rather than noobies. But, he told me that he was really enjoying the experience and didn’t understand why all of the people on phish.net were taking a big fat dump all over the show in the forum. (LOL!) I will always cherish the little conversations that happen while taking a wee in the loo at the Phish show.

Continuing to craft a unique narrative, set two kicks off with “Tube”, which surprisingly hasn’t opened a second set since 10/30/2010. And to that I ask myself: “what took you so damn long to figure out that this is the perfect set opener?” On a personal level, with this play, “Tube” regains its status as my most seen Phish track. I’ve been fortunate to be a firsthand witness to the resurgence of the track, attesting to the revelations unleashed in the Chula Vista ’16 version, proudly getting to see that idea solidify and expand at The Baker’s Dozen the next summer, and then become one of the most exciting features of just about every show it appears in.

This “Tube” is perhaps even more special, it feels like this is a moment they’ve been building up to for several years. After the initial funk jam, they lock into a little situation, collectively latching onto a brief melody to make sure that all members are cruising the cosmos in sync, before returning to the funk center, now whizzing off with loopers and effects, with Gordon robustly loping about, all the while Fishman is keeping it absolutely grooving with breakneck dance beats. They lock into a shift into major key territory, Fishman keeping the tempo animated, alternating between a lockgroove and fluttering fills. The collective direction leads towards a huge, church-like, gospel-inflected, uplifting peak, with Fishman maintaining the propulsive pace throughout, eventually escalating the tempo, Gordon feeling so visceral and strong throughout, and all members feeling fully realized and heard. They soar into a triumphant space, somewhat reminiscent in tone to the esteemed “Chalkdust Torture” from Camden ‘99, before shredding it up to another blistering white-light peak, increasing the tempo even further, and transitioning on a dime into the ending of “Tube.” The band comes to a full stop, wrapping up (and stat nerds please correct me if I’m wrong) the third longest “Tube” in history, and one of the more improvisationally substantial versions ever played. SOOOOOOOO STUPENDOUS LIVING IN THIS TUBE. Dear Phish, please keep this in mind when opening future sets. Thank you for your consideration!

“A Song I Heard the Ocean Sing” is the next card drawn - a selection that’s unfortunately becoming all too rare in the catalog, but clearly has some serious Chicago-area energy, with some of its other recent entries including Alpine Valley ‘24 and United Center ‘23. Like the hallowed Baker’s Dozen version, this ASIHTOS quickly dips into murky waters, unsettling waves, and all of the other bad ocean metaphors you could possibly think of at 4:00AM when trying to efficiently recap the Phish show. I often refer to this style of Phish as “the clown portal”, and my face is starting to hurt from the sh*t-eating grin on my face, thrilled to bear witness to the wormhole opening up yet again.

I’ve noticed that in 2025, Phish has put an emphasis at creating disquieting, “evil Phish” moments through atonality, or rather absolutely wrecked sounding, completely inharmonic playing. It’s been a very positive development. Things continue through a creepy, gooey, carnivalesque space as Mike locks into yet another sinewy groove, as Trey masterfully drives the clown car, teetering on the edge of insanity, maintaining an ecosystem of loops while slithering and flitting over non-recursive atmospheres with cheeky, finger-wagging play. Page cues up some shimmering synths, and things sputter into controlled chaos as the UFO hovers over the Madhouse on Madison, abducting us all and whisking us away to a faraway planet for our bodies to be examined in a land where clown metaphors and alien metaphors live in perfect harmony. It’s getting pretty spooky in here, so it’s time to say bye bye to the alien overlords and close the clown portal. The band collectively finds their way into a major key passage, recalling some of the more gospel-y predilections from the preceding “Tube”, but this time presented in a hazier fashion, and while still delivered at a brisk pace, a bit more staccato than danceable, soon reaching a shreddy peak with chittering piano tones serving as a counterpoint to Trey’s deeply effected guitar. The idea comes to a natural conclusion, transitioning into feedback and noise, and a gnarly little intro into “Down with Disease” with some well-placed Fishman samples.

In a night that has been rife with perplexing setlist calls and rarities, this is the first time that it truly feels like a Saturday night Phish show. The band triumphantly blazes through DWD in grand fashion, confidently brimming with elegance and athleticism, very similar in feel to a certain beloved championship Bulls team, forever in our hearts, dribbling down the court, shooting baskets, expertly darting around their opponents, and dazzling with every moment. They aren’t going anywhere in particular, just wonderfully cycling through brief melodic and rhythmic ideas all within the framework of DWD, with Page standing out for his shimmering synths keeping the supremely psychedelic contingency of this set going strong, and Fishman finding another opportunity to showcase more of the rave onslaught energy he’s been bringing all tour. At about 13 minutes, Trey locks into “Dave’s Energy Guide”-like King Crimson-like riffing, as Mike briefly falls into a glorious descending riff for just one satisfying moment, before collectively and quite surprisingly transitioning back into “Seven Below,” albeit in a different key. The idea is very well implemented by both Trey and Mike, but a little bit clunky from Page and Fishman. It’s very well received in the stadium though, the crowd thrilled about Phish’s humorous act of retribution: an admission that they may have had a bit of a whoopsie moment earlier, but that they’re still totally in control of the situation. You gotta love it. After singing the verse of “Seven Below”, they quickly pivot back into the DWD-jam space, before concluding the track, also in a different key than usual, and a bit sloppy as well, but earnest, lovely, and positively thrilling.

It has been an absolutely pummeling and unrelenting Phish set so far, and in the ballad slot (in five sets of quotations), we’re so lucky to get “Pillow Jets.” Before a run of shows, people often make little lists of the songs they want to see, often shooting for the moon asking for their first “Forbin > Mockingbird”, “Harpua”, or “Dinner and a Movie”, but for this run I wasn’t asking for anything too lofty… I just wanted to see my first “Pillow Jets.” The song unfolds a lot like “McGrupp” in many ways, with its soft prog energy, fantastical themes, beautiful harmonies, and an atmosphere that shifts between delicate and powerful. The real reason I wanted to see this song though is that it has become a sort of “Split Open and Melt”-lite and provides an invitation back into the Dark Carnival where we can re-visit our smiling friends in the clown portal. After a few minutes of glorious, soupy, slow motion, cyborgian play, Trey kicks into some siren-y loops, Page moves into more synthetic territory, while the rhythm section playfully pulls at all of the seams, culminating in an intoxicating, disorienting, headbanging choogle, before taking us from the circus and back into the alien abduction in the form of “2001.”

I recently listened to an episode of the HF Pod where the hosts were bemoaning 4th quarter “2001” placements. While I love the podcast a lot, and think the hosts have a lot of interesting things to say, Phish’s play tonight is forcing you all to actively reconsider your position. After such an atmospheric, psychedelic, mind-plumbing set, “2001” was the most appropriate call to tie it all together. This version features excellent play throughout, with every band member playfully pushing out just a bit further than a normal take - prominently featuring masterful implementation of atonality, both in cleaner tones and deeply-effected ones. Though not one of the all-time great performances of the track, this one is brimming with personality and only served to enhance and unite the set’s psychedelic energy, rather than kill the set as our lovable friends at HF Pod suggest it often does.

Continuing the absolutely unrelenting, preposterous vibes of this set, Phish rages into arguably their greatest track “Chalkdust Torture”. It is FULLY SATURDAY NOW! It might’ve taken the whole show to entirely get there, but here we are, and it feels really, REALLY good. One of the most versatile songs in the canon, tonight’s take is purely shred-tastic, another chance to showcase the ferocity and athleticism I’ve been suggesting throughout. It’s absolutely manic, sending the set into chaos, sheer madness at a heart attack pace, capping off an absolutely thrilling and cohesive set of Phish music.

For the encore, Phish reminds us all that we’re indeed at a rock and roll concert and it’s not all kooky clowns versus creepy aliens, delivering a searing and respectful version of “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.” And if that wasn’t enough for you, how about a dusty, bubbling “First Tube” to cap it all off. At the end of the night, we meet up with our corn friends and non-corn friends for a quick chat. A friend shows off this weekend’s poster, one that perfectly reflects the carnivalesque funhouse on display during the greatest moments of the second set.

Thus concludes yet another very fun, very wow, very inspired night of music. This is the kind of show that seems likely to be underappreciated for a long time: not an absolutely top tier show, but one that is brimming with personality and swagger. The two sets each have their own sense of purpose and are particularly coherent: each its own little universe with distinct musical themes and narratives explored. It’s not going to win people over with its kind of fugly looking setlist or its lack of a tentpole 20+ minute jam, but will be quietly hallowed by fans who are seeking something a little different, something a bit off the beaten path, a show with a distinctly different feel than the tour surrounding it. What an absolute joy to attend. We’re so incredibly fortunate to have the pleasure to do this together. Can’t wait for tomorrow night (tonight when you’re reading this). See you all there!

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