[We would like to thank Rachael Wesley, author of the book SECOND SET CHANCES (Vine Leaves Press) for reviewing last night’s show. Find her at rachaelwesley.com. —Ed.]

The grumblings of Phish’s venue and date change from their usual Dick’s Labor Day weekend to a 4^th of July Folsom Field run have been a constant since tour was announced in February. Or at least that’s how it appeared to this Denver denizen. Since we are everywhere in this city, I often ran into fellow phans, and our conversation was certain to include a complaint about the switch. Folsom sucks. It’s so far. What, no shakedown? I certainly did my fair share of bitching.

For me, that all transformed during Thursday night’s magnificent show. Leaving the venue Friday night, after that nearly perfect second set, my feelings grew even more positive. And so, walking in last night, I was awash in various sentiments. Stoked for the night of music ahead, excitement to dance among friends, and curious about how many others’ ill feelings about Folsom had shifted throughout the run. However, there was one emotion that ruled above all the others.

Sadness.

You see, last night was my last Phish show while living on this continent.

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