[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.

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