[We would like to thank Matt (@Scissortail) for recapping last night's show. -Ed.]

The stages of Phish showgoing, in my experience: When first hooked, I want to learn and absorb everything. I want to be in on the jokes, the lore, all the things that everyone at the show seems already in on. Gradually, having learned all that stuff, the song-chasing phase begins. I must hear Harpua; I must hear Forbin; etc. Eventually, when there’s nothing much left to chase, the quest shifts to chasing epic jams. It’s a privilege to witness an Alpine Ruby Waves or a 12/30/19 Tweezer. But at some point there is enlightenment, and I realize there’s only one thing I really want and need at a Phish show:

The Flow.

When it comes to Phish, Flow is undefinable, indescribable, and different for every single one of us. (@MikeHamad goes deep in an excellent essay on what it means to him.)

Night four in Mexico is a tale of two sets, and an interesting case study in the contrast of Flow.

The show begins during the daylight, a practice I find deeply objectionable, with “Mike’s Song,” followed by “Halley’s Comet,” with a slick segue into “Weekapaug Groove,” followed by “Julius.” There is really not a lot to say about this sequence. I keep notes when I’m scheduled to write the recap, and my notes are almost exactly the same for each of these: “Spirited. Well played. Extremely standard.” (With an addition to Halley’s about the regrettable lack of “Hydrogen.”)

Then we come to “My Friend My Friend,” which has been on an absolute heater lately, with several recent performances hitting the jam chart. If I were a betting man, I’d wager this version will join that esteemed list with the next update. Thirty seconds into the jam portion and this is already the most interesting thing that has happened in the show, by far. Nothing standard here. After some space exploration, Trey hooks onto a sturdy rock riff that propels everything along for many minutes, until Page asserts his spacy synths and we finally achieve liftoff. After a cosmic interlude, Page comes back to the piano and Trey leads a soaring, exultant bliss journey—but Page is unable to resist the power of his blastoff synths, and we’re bound for space yet again.

I’m prone to exaggeration when I’m excited about Phish, but the final four-ish minutes of this MFMF reminds me of the lightning-in-a-bottle surge at the peak of the Camden “Chalkdust.” Feel free to @ me.

“Mull” follows, and I must admit it seemed Trey was giving a little more effort to a Mike song than usual, but nothing outside the lines. A welcome “Vultures” is well played and standard. “2001” is the surest way to start a dance party in all of Phishdom, which it surely does, until the opening notes of “Drift While You’re Sleeping” emerge and every ounce of wild energy “2001” had created evaporates into thin air.

Look, I’m on the record on this very blog defending Trey’s Love and Light songs. I don’t dislike “Drift” or “A Life Beyond the Dream” (I cannot say the same for certain show-mates of mine), but I don’t think these songs should be closing sets. In defense of the placement, the crowd seems more locked into it than I’ve ever seen, people are screaming about love carrying us through, and little by little, my curmudgeonly heart begins to soften a tiny bit. Fine, yes, OK. Love will carry us through. (Also, it’s funny to scream “REGGAE MUSIC!” when they drop into that one part.)

A fine set. Many songs played in a standard way, with one undeniably great jam. If they played this set in 2010 I’d be overjoyed. But Phish has raised the bar considerably since then, and if we’re nitpicking: “Halley’s” in the center of a Mike’s Groove just makes one long for “Hydrogen” (or even “Simple”) [Ed. Note: this was the first “Halley’s” to follow “Mike’s Song”]; “Julius” is awkwardly placed and massively flubbed; and “Drift,” while it may be rousing and anthemic by the end, is not a tonal companion to a “2001” dance party. A well-played set, and fun as all get-out, but distinctly lacking the Flow.

Which brings us to set two.

A running joke among my show friends is the “topical jam.” Phish plays “Simple” in New York City (skyscrapers), or closes with “Bittersweet Motel” at Star Lake (halfway between Erie and Pittsburgh), or opens with “The Star Spangled Banner” at Fenway Park (because, uh, sports). But, there is no venue like Mexico for topical jams. You won’t get just one, you’ll likely get several per set. We’ve heard just about all the usual suspects on this run, and the two we were missing join forces to create one of the finest sequences of music ever to grace the beach at Moon Palace: “A Song I Heard the Ocean Sing” -> “Beneath a Sea of Stars Part 1.”

“ASHITOS” begins as typically as ever, just like it did in 2024 before morphing into one of that weekend’s best jams (in a tier below “Chalkdust” and “A Wave of Hope,” of course). Moving away from the song proper, Trey vamps for a while on the central melody, until the minor key mood suddenly transitions to a jaunty, buoyant groove that drifts along pleasantly, in absolutely no hurry, as each member slowly introduces more sounds and textures to the mosaic.

At this point I write in my notes: “Trey leads a breakdown into a traditional bliss build.” A few minutes later I pull out the notebook and cross that out, because, while it sounded like that was about to happen, that’s not what happens. What does happen, to my ears, is that the tiniest hint of a “Gotta Jibboo” groove comes shimmering to the surface, and soon the “ooh oohs” of “The Final Hurrah” jump in for a swim. A laid-back island jam continues—again, in no hurry at all—briefly shifts to a more muscular stride with “Manteca” flavors, and then settles back into that island boogie zone, like these boys just cannot bear to abandon these vibes.

By now, it’s probably been ten minutes since the original “Jiboo” earworm crept in, and they’re still sprinkling it here and there. I keep thinking we’re witnessing the most patient segue in the history of segues. But no, just more kickass jamming. Which leads to a spacy section and jubilant resolution that my notes describe thusly:

Super cool percussive breakdown
Spaceships
PAGE SYNTHS!
Laser beams
Fuckin groove
Trey anthemic build
TRIUMPHANT!!!!

So I guess that about sums up the “ASIHTOS.” A wonderful jam that will live on in the annals of Phish Mexico lore forevermore. As much as I adored N2 set 2, this jam was the tip-topper for me, and a must-listen for anyone who likes listening to Phish.

In short order, the topical jams continue. We’re all here together and the weather’s fine. “BASOS” is almost always interesting, but tonight it’s interesting AND a perfect complement to the 40-minute burst of joy that preceded it. There are times when a “cooldown” song kills momentum. There are other times when the need for a cooldown and the choice to assume that role are entirely in sync. Tonight is one of those times. The ambient, sublime weirdness that unfolds for the next 20 minutes is spellbinding and cathartic, especially for a mass of people who have gone as hard as this motley crowd for several days in the sun.

Which may lead one to wonder: After a 40-minute, hip-shaking boogie fest, followed by a 20-minute, ethereal, contemplative exhale, what is the absolute perfect call? What is the only call? Lucky for us, when Trey has the Flow surging through him, he always makes the right call: It’s the fucking “Meatstick.” I can’t adequately describe the pure joy I feel all around me (and all inside me) as we’re released from “BASOS” into “Meatstick.” It perfectly recreates the laid-back vibe of the “ASIHTOS” jam, and we’re instantly transported back to that feeling; we’re off again, happily resuming the chillest wiggling and bopping you’d ever want to see.

An energetic “Golden Age” keeps the vibe alive and is followed by a gorgeous and poignant “Slave to the Traffic Light.” I fully understand that Trey is pushing for songs like “Drift” and “Life Beyond the Dream” to assume the mantle of the perfect, soul-nourishing set closer. But when you already have two that cannot and will not be topped by Phish or any other band, replacing those in the minds and hearts of the faithful is a tall order. Any set that ends with “Drift” will be better if it ends with “Slave” instead. I know music is subjective, but that claim feels scientific. Indisputable.

The band exits the stage and soon re-emerges to fire up “Loving Cup,” another impeccable call from Trey. A song that was once predictable and perhaps overplayed (especially in encores) benefits from the old axiom that absence makes the heart grow fonder. It is joyously received; our cups runneth over; a beautiful buzz engulfs our hearts. The only thing that could ratchet the rapture up another notch is that other perfect, soul-nourishing set closer: “Harry Hood.”

I do believe wholeheartedly that “Slave” and “Hood” are optimal set- or show-closing songs. But sometimes they seem to be performed in a perfunctory fashion, tacked on because Trey knows they’re perfect for that position in a show, but not played with the emotion they deserve and demand. Tonight’s “Slave” and “Hood” are not victims of that impulse. They are played with intention and conviction, with no hint of boxes being checked off a list. I saw someone say in the forum that “Slave” and “Hood” shouldn’t be played in the same show because their vibes are too similar. To you, sir or madam, I say nay. I’ll take either or both any time, as long as they’re played with passion. Because when they’re played the way they’re meant to be played, they don’t feel tacked on at all. They feel like the inevitable, cleansing, soul-stirring resolution of the Flow.

(Before I go: I know the show ratings on .net are not to be taken seriously. Shows can be rated by anyone with access to a computer, even “ignorant and deaf chodes who suck at Phish so profoundly that they should be forced to listen to 8/15/09 MPP’s mid-second set “Alaska, Let Me Lie” nightmare on repeat until they projectile vomit.” I was lucky enough to do the NYE run in December, so there’s no attendance bias in either direction, but the ratings of these Mexico shows compared to those MSG shows is hilarious. Nans galore.)

In closing, I must give thanks to Phish for continuing to accommodate all of us custies. For me, this is the unbeatable Phish experience, and that is in no small part thanks to the fabulous Moon Palace staff. Shouts as always to Arturo, our main man of many years, and all the people who welcome a bunch of weird hippies with warm, friendly energy—making this a truly magical experience in every way. As always, I hope to see you all next year.

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