Off the heels of a truly inspired Phish tour comes another edition of Phish.Net's Mystery Jam Monday. The winner will receive an MP3 download courtesy of our friends at LivePhish.com / Nugs.Net. To win, be the first person to identify the song and date of the mystery jam clip. Each person gets one guess per day, with the second “day” starting after I post the hint. A hint will be posted on Tuesday if necessary, with the answer to follow on Wednesday. Good luck!

Answer: Many of you quickly and correctly speculated that this clip came from the It festival, but first-time MJM winner @warped was the first to identify the 8/2/03 Spread It 'Round.

The tour closer. Phish is playing as well as they have in years. More than that, it seems like this is a general consensus. Phish fans may be scattered across generations and social-media platforms but there is little obvious disagreement about the quality of improvisation, which night in and night out has been magnificent. The drummer is massive, controlling the action in front of him to a greater degree than ever before. The keyboard player is all over the place, more percussive than usual, rising to the challenge, demanding and happily executing solos when usually he lays back. Even the guitar player, on whom so much depends, is hitting his marks most of the time and seems to want to do it right.

Phish, Inc. chose to offer a free webcast of Sunday night's Phish concert live from Alpharetta, Georgia. One wonders why it was free, whether enough shame finally accrued to the organization from the amateur-hour shenanigans of Nugs.net that it felt the need to pay off the fan base, or whether they are testing a new product, or whether they are deviously trying to identify, harvest, and ruthlessly exploit your intimate personal information like Facebook. When the band took the stage at 8:13pm, it was playing to a big room.

Photo © Phish, Phish From the Road

The band comes on. The opener is a joke. You have been around long enough to know it doesn't really matter what they open with. Beach balls fly and beer is spilled. People banter and recreate and wager on the actual identifiable opener, but ultimately they just want to hear the band play. Get the show on the road. The best parts aren't always the first parts. You think back to set break on October 7, 2000, where you were dissecting the first set, as was your habit, when your friends announced Phish had "showed disrespect for its audience" by playing "My Soul." It's not a song any of us needs to hear again.

So many of these reviews or think-pieces or whatever end up being self-referential, meta-discursive blarrrrgh, written under a cloud of disclaimer or childishly demanding adoption of a singular model for evaluating shows. Why over-contextualize the review to the point where you become a stereotype to the reader? And why be defensive about how you're discussing Phish's music? Why not write what you want to write? Why not use the criteria that make the most sense to you? No one's stopping you.

Photo © Mike Gordon

This night, Sunday night, the magic comes early. "Bathtub Gin" is the first set's most reliable shot at redemption. The first set takes a lot of abuse. The first set's main problem is that it's not the second set. But "Gin" is here for you. "Gin" will heal and consecrate you: the brave, excursionary Randall's “Gin,” dropping flags in uncharted reaches; last week's Portsmouth opener, taking the crowd zero to 80. Tonight it was more linear: a long guitar solo, unspooling a story and peaking and staying on the peak as long as possible, then dropping down... It is a superb version of a song that has offered peaks as high as any Phish jam.

Jon Fishman is in the best playing shape of his life. He is destroying fools. He has the weapon from Krull. He is playing so well that we can finally say what we knew but didn't want to mention, the plain-view answer we didn't want to concede: so many of Phish's struggles from 2009 through summer 2012 were down not to Trey failing to practice or arthritis but to Jon Fishman not being quite in shape enough, not having practiced quite enough rudiments to handle the demands of the music. That’s not true anymore. This music has so much give to it, so receptive to suggestion. Jon Fishman is a rolling ball of butcher knives, carving up thousands of willing victims every night.

Photo © Phish, Phish From the Road

"555" has been played 555 times in 5 shows. You are a member of the 55% club for "555." You have seen it played 55 times in 5 shows, which means you have seen 555% of the total performances of this song.

In very late 2002, Phish washed ashore with a new record called Round Room. It looked and sounded like they'd made it in a week. At least half of it was very good. The lead track, especially. For once, a Phish lyric that states an obvious home truth: "I am inclined, when I find a pebble in sand, to think that it fell from my hand." We all like to believe our experience is universal, that God is talking directly to us. But you just wish Phish would play "Pebbles and Marbles" more.

"Pebbles" explodes into fire and light. It combusts. But it was a bit of a trick because just seconds later the flame burns away and it's over. Arpeggios, then quiet. The lights go to blue. Trey decides on "The Line" next. This is a show tune, with a bridge and everything, and the band butchers the harmonies. Like they say, nobody listens to Phish for their vocals.

Photo © Phish, Phish From the Road

My wife doesn't like Phish. It's not her fault; it just so happens that there are a lot of good reasons not to like Phish. At 5:40pm PDT or so, it occurred to me I needed to start preparing dinner. Instead of listening to "The Line" or the composed bit of "Vultures" I put together the following brine for some pork chops:

Dissolve 3 T brown sugar and 3 T kosher salt in 2 c. hot water. Add another 1 c. cold water, then 3 T bourbon and 2 T vegetable or canola oil. In quart-size resealable plastic bag, place pork chops with 1 medium yellow onion, sliced, 1 cinnamon stick, 2 bay leaves, 10-15 black peppercorns, 8-10 allspice berries, 5-7 cloves. Pour brine into plastic bag, marinate 3-4 hours.

Everybody loves "Vultures." There's just the one problem. Since the watershed Tahoe "Tweezer" and throughout last fall and this summer, the crowd has developed a habit of shouting "Woo!" on every rest. But the end of "Vultures" is a parade of rests, where the band lays out to give Jon Fishman room to explore the studio space. As a result the crowd shouts "Woo!" at the end of "Vultures" when it's supposed to be listening to the Greatest Rock Drummer Alive strutting his stuff. Future generations will wonder: what the fuck?

Photo © Elliot Byron

It's not all gravy. Even Charlie Dirksen would pause before raining praise upon this short and anodyne "Fast Enough for You." "Back on the Train" hops onto the train for only one stop, before getting off again. "Taste" falls to pieces during the third verse, with Mike dropping off and then Trey losing his mooring before WHAP Fish brings them back on the downbeat.

"Gumbo," "Halley's," "Tube." GHT. One of many Phish triads. Songs that used to jam but no longer do. Tunes that inspire 1.0 fans to gripe and grouse. “Gumbo” and its explosion, so long after its debut, at Star Lake. “Halley's,” always a fire-starter but for a little while, between Hampton '97 and Portland '99, so much more. Well, hold on here: “Gumbo” looks ready to dissolve into ragtime as always at the 4-minute mark but suddenly turns left. Pleasant and funky, it sounds like it could bounce laterally into "Boogie On Reggae Woman." Instead it curdles and drops into a minor key and gets a little mean. It's dub; it's funk. Page is on the clavinet and Trey is barking like Peter Frampton's talk box. It's the best “Gumbo” in ten years, without question. Best you can remember. Deer Creek 2003? Was that the last one worth remembering? You are daydreaming when the beautiful jam is brutally truncated by Trey. Murdered really. Throat slit. Done in. Sent to meet the reaper. El finito. The big snuff. Blown to bits. Processed into a slurry.

Miraculously, the set ends as horribly as it began but you still love it. "Stealing Time from the Faulty Plan" into "Suzy Greenberg," with Trey sprinting like he has a tee time and also needs to take a shit. You love the precision, you love the tempos enabled by Jon Fishman's beast-like presence. But it surges past so quickly. Even the set break is fast, and before you know it they're back, Mike now with the scarf swaddling his torso like a juicy date wrapped in prosciutto.

Photo © Phish, Phish From the Road

"Chalk Dust Torture" detonated across this summer. It had periodically been used as a jam vehicle before now, but four times in summer 2014 the band picked it to open the second set – extending the trend from Dick's, Hartford, and MSG last year. Routinely "Chalk Dust" was veering into type II weirdness, never coming back to its moorings, providing the grounding for entire second sets and entire shows. But even if it was less exploratory by virtue of its placement later in the second set, "Harry Hood" had been every bit as good. "Hood" was the band playing together, listening to each other with precision. With one show to play the league table stood as follows:

Yet another extraordinary "Chalk Dust" peaks and twists and dives and are you in an IMAX movie of some sort? No, you're not, you're just at an amphitheater in suburban Atlanta, a little past sundown on a nice cool evening. The keyboard player moves over to his cute tangerine electric piano. Maybe things should slow down, but the drummer won't let them. He is thundering along, creating massive acres of space. The rest of the band builds to a drone, feedback from the guitar and honking synth now rather than piano. Then a rock progression from the guitar, then another, then – is that "Substitute" by The Who? Close enough I guess, everybody get on the bus, everybody get on board the wave.

Photo © Phish, Phish From the Road

"Scents and Subtle Sounds" hadn't been played in 100-plus shows, since Dick's in 2011, but what's the point if they don't play the intro and don't bother with the jam? "Twist" has regressed this tour, always coming in under the 10-minute mark, always fun but never seeming to move the needle. "Fuego" – well, everybody knew we'd get one. Every state gets a “Fuego.” Every venue gets a “Fuego” but Oak Mountain, where the audience is so dominated by aggressive dirtbags that they actually had to remove the lawn, for the crowd's protection. "The Wedge" was a normal version, not the rocket-propelled excursion that knocked us stupid the third night in Chicago.

This most exceptional summer tour was the best since 2003, when Phish threw a big festival called IT and set as-yet-unequalled standards with the Camden "Scents" and conjured magic like the Alpine "YEM." Or maybe since 2000, with the long opiate set breaks and the ridiculous northeast run with GSAC's "Drowned" -> "Rock and Roll" and then the Hartford "Ghost" and finally Camden and its "Jibboo." The point is it has been exceptional, and we can figure out how to rank it later.

When Trey needs somewhere to go in the second set, "Light" is there. It's there by design. It's been there five years, a rock in the center of the river, as long as the band's been playing it. When Trey has a mental block, and needs safe passage, he can always rely on "Light." When the tempo drops away and things are not as they seem, when boredom begins to creep into the second-set soundscape, why not give the staccato chords of "Light" a try? This "Light" is a bottom-end disco soiree that for all the world seems headed toward "2001" – Page setting the prospective segue out for the rest of the band on fine china, formally requesting a response.

Alpharetta, GA LE poster by David Welker

Finally the alienating harmonics smooth out. And it's bliss, essentially. A feint toward "Sand" and then, for the first time all night, the bass player grabs the reins and says here's what I can do, let me have a turn on the mic.

In the contest for Song of the Tour between "Chalk Dust Torture" and "Harry Hood," "Hood" has the hammer. With "Chalk Dust" notching a methodical 1-0 win earlier in the set there is no question "Hood" needs a big performance to take the title. You can judge for yourself whether it got there, but I want to say I was legitimately touched by the sweetness of the interplay between these 50-year-old men who have been playing music together for over 30 years. From the slowdown during the intro, to the sweet communal jam with Trey's foot up on the drum riser, trading fours with each of his bandmates in turn, everybody smiling, Fish with a grin like the ones we've seen from Mike when Trey has called him over to duet during "YEM." It's half-Caribbean, lilting, leisurely, good intentions from men who appear to genuinely love each other.

The bass player is drumming on his fight bell with drumsticks. Where did he get the drumsticks, anyway? The guitarist has stopped trying to use his instrument percussively and is just drumming, batting on his vocal mic, flicking it insistently. Then there's piano and throughout it all the drums.

They build and build and suddenly they're at the "Chalk Dust" tempo and just one step low, playing the "Hood" jam in D instead of "Chalk Dust" in E. They feint at it but they're not squaring the circle today. Instead they thunder back into the "Hood" ending. Surely the end of set. Surely nothing more except a "Character Zero" encore.

Setlist Pictogram © Joseeen (available at Etsy)

But Trey is talking to Fishman. Then, more quickly, to Page. All on the same page. Trey is counting off. One, two—one, two, three, four. And then BOOOOMMM—

"First Tube" has been nominated for a Grammy and this summer has finally started to stake its rightful claim as a song that should be in heavy rotation as a show closer. Fuck yes. Give me this every fourth show and I will never complain.

When Phish was hanging on for dear life, trying to act like things were okay when they weren't: they held a festival called IT. They played two long shows and at the end the fans chanted for them to play "Fluffhead." They didn't. One suspected they didn't think they could. When Phish came back from the dead, the first song they played was "Fluffhead." Tonight, August 3, 2014, Phish closed out their summer tour with a sharp and facile "Fluffhead" encore.

Summer 2014, guys. Phish is back.

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Tonight, Oak Mountain Amphitheatre hosts the 21st and second-to-last show of Phish’s 2014 summer season. Tomorrow’s capper in Alpharetta will close the books on a tour that has left smoking craters in its wake and paid off with a consistency that rivals fall 2013. With one or two minor exceptions that are probably better left unnamed, the band has played with purpose, patience, and fire at every stop this summer, spinning ideas into moments and moments into grand, cathedral proclamations.

On a few of these nights (like the second night of Merriweather, which is by now a shopworn reference) it has seemed as if Phish could do no wrong. The band’s own social media stream suggests that they are doing a whole mess of rehearsing out there on the road (as distinguished from sound-checking), which would certainly explain in part the confidence and surefooted execution we have seen so far.

Photo © Phish, Phish From the Road

Other forces are probably at work as well. Dropping covers out of the repertoire almost entirely (an extrapolation of the winning strategy the band adopted over the holiday run at MSG) has made room for them to focus on and celebrate their original material. Sure, this tradeoff cuts both ways (because who doesn’t miss seeing “Drowned," “Rock and Roll," and “Crosseyed and Painless” in the rotation?), but it does appear to net out as a positive. To these ears, JEMP is in their happy “tight but loose” place that makes them Jedi-level dangerous.

Out here on summer tour, there is no try, only do.

The circuit is complete.

Signs point to “yes.”

So let’s get this show on the road.

Photo © Peter Burrage

“AC/DC Bag” proves a suitable introduction for what will prove to be a straightforward but satisfying first set full of bangers. Trey fires off some stinging chicken-pickin’ licks en route to a quick climax before we tumble hastily into a ragged-but-right “Poor Heart." Trey begins the first “Cities” of 2014 on the C# instead of the D, but recovers nicely and goes on to delight the crowd with a Birmingham reference and improvised lyrics. It’s a dank and laconic version appropriate for a warm southern evening. Welcome back, “Cities”!

A surefooted but short “Kill Devil Falls” follows, then Trey atypically introduces “Reba” before playing it. Like every other “Reba” this summer and every “Reba” since the truck set at MSG, this one is dealt face-up and flawless. Short? You bet, not unlike a 1992 version, and every bit as spic-and-span.

Photo © Pete Mason

A very forward-leaning theme has emerged by this point: short, sharp shocks, one after the other, all in the service of a proper Saturday night rock and roll show.

“Possum” is tonight’s nod to Skynyrd-style boogie, and features some unconventional tones from Page during his solo. “Sample in a Jar," often clam-baked in recent years, comes off without a single hitch, and with some surplus oomph. The ensuing “Funky Bitch” is nice and hot, too.

But the first bona fide exclamation of the night comes courtesy of Page, who simply manhandles his organ break in “Maze." His solo section has been the highlight of many recent versions, and not only for his playing; Trey really seems to dig the comping role in this part of the jam as well. The Chairman earns a titanic peak in this version as the band gathers yet more momentum.

Photo © Phish, Phish From the Road

“Maze” is followed in rapid succession by a syrupy, bluesy “Ocelot," then “Sparkle” and “Cavern” (which implodes to the band’s apparent amusement when Trey biffs a lyric in the second bridge and everybody, like, stops playing and stuff). By this point the set is already running north of 80 minutes, and most action is on the “end of set” outcome.

Instead, we’re treated to “Wingsuit," which works remarkably well as a first set walk-off. Its lyrics promise adventure ahead, and its outro section combines root chakra thrust with emotional depth. One of the unique and memorable moments in this version arrives courtesy of Mike Gordon, who lays down a bed of rolling thunder during the typically-silent section just before the jam. The song serves as a dramatic capstone to a first set that bodes well for the remainder of the night.

Photo © Phish, Phish From the Road

The second frame kicks off with “Carini," whose gangster lean may have developed just the slightest hitch after 2013. In fairness, this is probably the result of a deliberate attempt to spread the jam around to other songs a bit after letting it dominate nearly every show in which it appeared last year. “Ghost” surfaces next, sans segue, and like nearly every song played tonight, it does not fuss around. This “Ghost” cuts straight to the high speed chase, almost like a first set version from 1997, and beelines to a majestic and white hot peak. Went “Gin” is bandied about as a reference point during this jam, which (it should be stressed) is more an allusion to the approach and structure rather than its majesty or durability. This outstanding “Ghost” evokes a “Drowned” jam in places and glances past “Simple” on its way to “Mike’s."

In keeping with the theme of the show, “Mike’s” is launched out of a cannon. Trey scurries to his Echoplex almost immediately once the verses are done, and for the next several minutes simply breathes fire from his cabinets. This might be one of the shorter Mike’s in history, even as compared with the truncated 3.0 standard, but it is nonetheless blistering, spine-tingling, electrifying. It egresses predictably into the “Simple” that has already been teased, and which churns up a quite a nice dust cloud itself. Very cool “Simple," this, driven along by the rhythm section and awash in weirdness in a way most are not. According to several accounts from the show, “Simple” is accompanied by a meteor burning up in the atmosphere above Pelham, which serves as an apt metaphor for the show itself.

Photo © Phish, Phish From the Road

Now “Joy” steps forward to occupy the power ballad spot. Placement will always be the hobgoblin of songs like this, but this “Joy” comes across as a well-earned and well-executed palate cleanser, not deflating in the least. Not so with the “Weekapaug” that follows, which nearly ends before it begins for lack of a compelling direction. So it is on a Saturday, very often, and so it is with “Julius."

Phish reclaims nearly all of its lost momentum with “Sand," which like the “Mike’s” and the “Ghost” before it wastes no time accessing interstellar space. Mike pushes against harmonic boundaries here while Fishman holds down a rock solid pocket. Trey escorts “Sand” to a smoldering climax before resolving it quietly, then Page turns to the grand and introduces “Wading in the Velvet Sea." On paper, “Wading” suggests ballad overload, but it’s hard to deduct points when Phish has been charging so hard all night long. And it’s not like they’re about to limp across the finish line; the set closes with the first Alabama “YEM” since 1999. It’s a classic version with a scorching solo from Trey and a percussive and evil vocal jam.

Pelham, AL LE poster by Michael Gaughan, with Dan Black from Landland

Encore chatter centers around “Fuego," which has been performed at every other venue on this tour, but it’s not to be (which is perfect if you’re the sort of fan who likes to see the band confound expectations). Instead, we’re treated to “Quinn the Eskimo," a song I’d gladly hear at every single show, and which probably punctuates this gig more fittingly than would a prog opus.

A jam purist who glances at the setlist and timings might be tempted to skip over this show. Big mistake. There is a time and a place for a show like this, and I can’t think of any better time and place than a summer Saturday in the south. Give it a spin, and cinch up your seatbelt just a little for “Maze," “Wingsuit," “Ghost," “Mike’s," “Simple” and “Sand."

See you all Sunday in Alpharetta!

Setlist Pictogram © Joseeen (available at Etsy)

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[For this recap we'd like to welcome guest blogger Richard Pearlman) -PZ]

Friday night’s Phish gig at The Amphitheater at the Wharf in Orange Beach, AL began an increasingly rare three night, three city run. The first such run since 2012 also presents relatively modest driving distances (three to four hours) between shows, almost like we’re back in the 90s.

The Wharf itself is an interesting venue. Only a few miles from the site of the Hangout Festival (and the BP oil spill of 2010), the amphitheater is situated among a complex of high-end condos, mediocre restaurants and overpriced retail stores. Like Oak Mountain, the venue has no covered pavilion and no lawn. The reserved seats are just metal bleachers, behind a not-oversold GA pit area. Despite a seemingly tolerant atmosphere (the other Richard and I got to-go cups from Ginny Lane), there wasn’t much of a lot scene. Tickets seemed plentiful, with both pit and reserved seats available for face value or less – even free.

Photo © Phish, Phish From the Road

The last bunch of shows on this tour seemed to start close to their scheduled start time. However, it was after 7:45pm before Phish started tonight’s show, which was scheduled for 7pm.

“Chalk Dust Torture” has been one of the bigger jam vehicles of the summer, but tonight’s opening version was more of a shorter, straight ahead warm up. This was a good indicator of where the rest of the set was going, as most of the songs stuck very close to their composed structures. Mike briefly stomped his fight bell during “Moma Dance” and Page offered extended organ solos in both “Heavy Things” and “Tube.” “Wolfman’s” was where they came closest to jamming in the first set, with Fishman aggressively pushing his mic to his left, some loud playing from Mike, and a nice peak at the end.

Photo © Pete Mason

“Curtis Loew” offered a 36 show gap bustout for us setlist watchers, and the southern crowd reacted loudly and appreciatively to the Skynyrd cover. Page either took some time to reacquaint himself with the song, or he has it completely internalized, because he nailed the lyrics, offered a few deep growls, and played a pretty piano solo.

Photo © Phish, Phish From the Road

The set break seemed brief, and the opening to “Down with Disease” was fairly distorted. Trey’s playing during the pre-jam portion of the song seemed a bit deliberate and slower than the typical “Disease.” The extended jam was led by Trey and Page, with some staccato interplay between them. Midway through, they got fairly spacey before hitting a big energetic peak, which saw Trey playing some riffs reminiscent of the first set “Rift.” Slowing down the end of an excellent twenty minute jam with more rhythmic playing, Trey subtly introduced the opening notes of “Theme from the Bottom.” “Theme” contained some soaring Trey solos, but ultimately served as a break between “Down with Disease” and the next jam.

Photo © Phish, Phish From the Road

When they started “Tweezer,” the crowd reacted loudly, and Trey played some trilling notes between singing the lyrics. Before the last set of lyrics, Page played some dark interesting patterns and as the jam began, Kuroda used some bubbly effects on the back of the stage. Although the run through “Tweezer” didn’t really hit Type II territory and stayed at a slow pace, Page, Fishman, and Trey engaged in some complementary playing during the last half of the jam. “Tweezer” ended with a lilting, melodic solo from Trey, which led into the opening of “Prince Caspian.” Even Trey seemed a little bored with the selection and the band came to the first complete stop of the set.

Photo © Pete Mason

Unfortunately, “Waiting All Night” sucked a lot of the energy out of the Mike-side section of the pit with the crowd becoming nearly silent. On this tour, Phish has seemed more focused on, or dedicated to, a collection of new songs than at any time since the summer of 1997. By experimenting with the setlist placement of many of the Fuego songs, the band appears interested in exploring where each song may ultimately fit into the repertoire. Sometimes this creativity works, but like here, that’s not always the case.

Continuing the every-city-gets-a-”Fuego” pattern, the crowd was reenergized by this selection. The band didn’t jam it out, but after having the crowd sing the “rolling” lyrics, they perfectly executed a transition back into the “Tweezer” theme with Fishman also singing “rolling” over Trey’s guitar. They then dropped seamlessly into “Slave to the Traffic Light.” This segment of the show was another high point of the night and well worth listening to.

Photo © Phish, Phish From the Road

It was too early to end the set, so Phish was either going to go with a handful of rockers or possibly do something interesting. They sort of split the baby by dropping into a crowd pleasing “2001,” which ran smoothly into a keyboard and bass heavy “Boogie On Reggae Woman.” While Page continued to fool around with “Boogie On,: Trey played the opening part of “Antelope” in rhythm with Page. The two of them then essentially played a couple minutes of a “Boogie On”/”Antelope” mashup. Moving through a Munster’s theme tease, typically strong shredding from Trey, and another “Boogie On” quote from him, “Antelope” ended the set. Although it was brief, the improvised mashup was the third clear highlight of the show, along with the “Down with Disease” and the segues in the run through “Fuego”/”Tweezer”/”Slave.”

At the start of the encore, Page thanked the crowd and mentioned his swimming in the Gulf of Mexico before the “Bouncing”/”Tweezer Reprise” combo concluded the show on a high energy note.

Setlist Pictogram © Joseeen (available at Etsy)

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IT thrills you, IT inspires you, IT enthralls you, IT fulfills you! IT flowns your balls! When a Phish show does IT for you, you experience a joy so profound that most if not all of your life's most significant events seem small by comparison. You may even consider changing your life to prioritize music, or at least your love of it.

Phish's music had this power for many fans in Portsmouth, and it continues to have this power right now, even after several decades and over 1600 performances—particularly as those of you fortunate enough to be at MPP four days ago know! For those whose love of Phish includes an appreciation of Phish’s most widely-acclaimed shows, and an interest in why one seemingly-amazing show gets more praise (or less praise) from some fans than another seemingly-amazing show, this post’s $0.02 are for you. Because in light of your 100+ wonderful comments to Jeremy Goodwin’s excellent MPP2 post, it’s apparent that many of you aren’t too upset when “recaps” are about more than just last night’s show.

Photo © Parker Harrington

It is precisely because every Phish show is GREAT, on multiple levels for many reasons (e.g., your usually kind fellow fans; band<->fan interaction; number of songs played over multiple sets; the lights, sound and "vibe;" the volume of drug smoke), that the "average" show is necessarily GREAT. Indeed, all or nearly all of the Phish shows you have attended have had good if not excellent sound, stupendous lights (Kuroda’s light-designing is genius), as well as an energizing "vibe" preshow, if not also throughout the set break, second set, and encore. And over the course of their history, Phish has performed well together routinely from the start through the (e).

Differentiating one show's characteristics and highlights from another, and positing one show over another for whatever reason(s), is thus an easily-criticizable, intensely-subjective, often silly hair-splitting exercise. Every Phish show is GREAT in often many ways, and even in COUNTLESS ways if you incorporate the depths of the souls of those forever inspired by the music. Think about that for a second.

Every show. Every show moves SOMEONE in a transcendent manner, at least in part if not for several hours. But, at the same time, the music of any given song, when compared with versions previously performed, is not always as “great” as it has been. It may even be flawed in ways that are objective, and not subjective (such as missed lyrics, notes, chords, changes, etc.).

What constitutes an above—or below—“average Phish show” in your view?

Photo © Andrea Nusinov

Some fans prioritize tightly-played, mostly-if-not-wholly composed songs over songs that improvise and the improvisation that they contain—improvisation that can either "click" and "gel" like melodious, composed music (see, e.g., the jam in the 7/26 MPP “Ghost”), or aimlessly meander, as if in a fetid pool, teeming with faeces of unusual size. In fact, some fans couldn't care less if a song that doesn't jam is played well or not, because they claim not to care for such songs, and it's only Phish's improvisational risk-taking that matters to them, even when the jams do NOT "click," because the band still deserves immense respect for taking the risk. Indeed, some fans don't even "count" Phish's first sets at all, unless something noteworthy occurs, because they view only second sets as typically containing any music worth hearing again in them.

Is the fan who prefers tight songs to improv wrong? Is the fan who largely disregards first sets wrong? Is the fan who only cares about jams wrong? Is the fan who loves everything unconditionally in the moment at the show—who couldn't care less about ever hearing the show again—wrong? Of course not! We love what we love, be it Phish-related or not, and all that matters is what music means the most to you. And as for me, I'm somewhere in the middle, or under, or above, all of those viewpoints, more or less. Why?

Because an "average-great" Phish show to me is one that is generally well-played start-to-finish by all four band members. They are brilliant, extremely experienced musicians, and near-perfection is "shooting par" for them if you examine their history performing together (even their performances together in any given tour). Differentiating the “below-average” from the “above-average” GREAT Phish shows, for me, really comes down to answering the questions:

(1) is any song's jam truly "must hear" or at least highly recommended, when that jam is compared both with that particular song's improvisational history, and with Phish's glorious improv historically;

(2) are there any songs that have jams that compare favorably with the so-called “top versions” of those songs historically (say, top 20%, unless the song has a short history, in which case, maybe that percentage is higher or lower, as you deem fit);

(3) how are the segues, since they're the most obvious characteristics of Phish sets that demonstrate potentially excellent "flow";

(4) what is the show’s “average song gap,” an objective measure signifying the average number of days between when every song performed had since been performed (the higher the number, the more likely there were significant “bust outs,” regardless of whether you like the songs that were busted out, or not); and,

(5) are there are any other unique characteristics of the show, such as guest musicians, three sets, stage banter, nudity, or Gamehendge?

Analyzing shows in this manner is subjective and imperfect, of course. We can't conjure up every minute of Phish's improvisation over 30 years. But everyone taking the time to read this has at least some sense of the terrain, having explored it before. You may be the “Phish expert” among your friends, or one of them. And all one need do to find an excellent example of why the foregoing guidelines are imperfect is to check out 7/27/2014 MPP: an exceptional, well-above “average-great” Phish show with a strong first set and a spectacular second set, with tight playing and flow (number 3 above) and a few bust-outs (number 4 above) that is also extraordinarily entertaining, but arguably has no “top” or “must-hear” versions of songs (numbers 1 and 2 above), except perhaps the third “Tweezer” jam and the jam out of “NICU.” Yet the entire second set is nevertheless “must hear"!

In any event, this depth of experience with Phish’s music doesn't make you or me "better" at exploring this terrain than anyone else, but it does give us a perspective on it that isn't necessarily "average," or even "great"—except perhaps in terms of years. The “average” Phish fan has seen the band multiple times and is generally knowledgeable about the music, and is at least somewhat opinionated about it, too, in that they probably have certain musical preferences. It is remarkable and to our credit as a fan base that while, on the whole, the band’s most mind-blowing performances over several decades tend to be widely lauded, it is nevertheless true that fans with very similar Phish experience can disagree strongly when it comes to which shows, or which versions of songs (often among the “best” or “top”), they prioritize over others.

Photo © Phish

Last night’s Portsmouth show featured no covers at all, and six tour debuts (“Guelah Papyrus,” “Mountains In The Mist,” and “Meat” in the first set, “Billy Breathes” and “Seven Below” in the second set, and “Lizards” (e)), as well as a fair amount of improvisation, perhaps a bit more than the “average” show when you consider them all over the course of 30 years.

“Gin” opened the show quite well, with Trey leading the way through the jam segment (as he typically does), and with Mike employing a tone with some extra-Lesh in it. Other first set highlights included the jam segment of “It’s Ice,” a Page-driven clavinet-heavy groove; a soulful “Mountains in the Mist,” which had not been performed in nearly four years; the tour debut of “Meat” (requested by a number of fans Page-side who held a variety of creative meat-signs); and a fairly tight “Bowie” set-closer. I say “fairly tight” because, for those who care about such things, Trey was not nailing every note all night. He was batting about .947, which is to say, still pretty good.

Summer '14, like fall '13, has been very strong on the whole, with many recommended jams (see, e.g., the 7/1 Great Woods “Hood,” 7/8 Phili “Fuego,” 7/13 Randall’s “CDT>Light>Tweezer,” and both 7/26’s and 7/27’s second sets). Nearly every show this tour has had something worth hearing from it. Last night’s second set only improved on this remarkable record, with inarguably the third most improvised “Fuego” in history. It is yet another “must-hear” version, and it opened Set Two masterfully, thanks in no small part to Fish and Page.

Following a timid “Jibboo,” a John-Holmes-sized “Meatstick”—easily the funkiest version since the Gorge in 2011, and NYE 2010 for that matter as well—bedazzled the crowd. It is a “top five” version (up there with Cypress and 12/5/99 Rochester, for example), that you should download and listen to as soon as you can, even if you’re not a fan of the song, to hear it for yourself. “Piper” was similarly quite good, before it was abandoned somewhat abruptly into the first “Billy Breathes” since Bader Field in 2012, ninety-five shows ago.

Photo © Andrea Nusinov

The second set concluded with a “solid” 4th Quarter: “Seven Below” (tour debut), “Waste,” a pleasant “BDTNL” (definitely check this version out if you’re a fan of this song!), and a typically good “First Tube” closer. The “Lizards” encore was an old school (and Gamehendgian) treat, much as the “Timber Ho” opener in Portsmouth had been on Tuesday night. Only a sociopath would be disappointed by a “Lizards” encore.

In short, both Portsmouth shows had plenty to love and enjoy, and for those of you who quickly skimmed to the bottom of this piece: check out the “It’s Ice,” “Fuego,” and “Meatstick” from last night's above "average-great" show. $0.02.

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PORTSMOUTH, VA – On Tuesday night Phish’s summer tour juggernaut found its exhale point at nTelos Pavilion on the shores of Virginia’s Hampton Roads. Following a pair of powerhouse performances and packed house, frenzied big summer weekend vibes at Merriweather Post Pavilion – with the intensity, innovation and fearlessness of Sunday’s “Tweezerfest” that landed from outer space, instantly slotting that gig as the 23rd highest rated show among fans in all of Phish’s illustrious 30-year history – it was clear that we were due for a return to earth. Given the context of the band playing at a sustained career peak, even a decompression show was bound to produce gems.

Photo © Phish, Phish From the Road

Phish again delivered the goods by exhibiting their skills through expert thematic setlist construction, mood settling, and most of all awareness of and response to the ball as it lay. Merriweather witnessed the band and crowd at its most ferocious balls-to-the-wall intensity. But one of the many tentacles of Phish brilliance and what makes them so “sticky” is that even when they downshift into a “weekday vibe” they hum and resonate at a frequency best suited for the moment. Tuesday’s crowd was everything Merriweather’s was not: calm, relaxed, settled, happy, comfortable and content. Phish played the right show for that crowd – little smoking, less talking, few drunks, no flying plastic debris, no nitrous hordes, no bullshit – it was time for Phish’s “adult swim.”

Photo © Parker Harrington

While it found a home opening second sets in the mid 90s (often in spectacular fashion, see 12/28/95, 7/26/97 and 11/16/97) “Timber (Jerry)” opened a show for the very first time in its 27-year run with Phish. Then the set settled in to a more predictable routine with compact versions of “Undermind” in its concise rendering, only the second “AC/DC Bag” of the tour, and Mike’s slinky “555.”

Photo © Parker Harrington

A long and flowing “Divided Sky” took place as the sun set Page side on a gloriously comfortable evening that offered easy breezes and imminently civil trappings. Trey’s “Ocelot” and Page’s “Halfway to the Moon” kept the first set ship gliding softly and effortlessly before upshifting into “Kill Devil Falls.” The first set improvisational anchor role fell to “Split Open and Melt,” and it delivered by getting weird with a dissonant minor key quickly, and then staying weird. CK5 took to exhibit his mastery with a brilliant LED display including a spectacular sequence featuring first his reverse-stage fractal projections, followed by a spotlight sequencing on the band members, culminating with unloading the kitchen sink of his seemingly never-ending arsenal of visual tricks. “Good Times Bad Times” harnessed the crowd’s latent dance energy for a final throw-down before the break.

Photo © Andrea Z. Nusinov

“Chalk Dust Torture” has become the toast of the tour as a jam vehicle, an open door to the airy, spacious, floating comfort of the jamming style that took root during last fall’s historic tour. At this point late in the summer tour – when they’ve dropped career-defining versions seemingly one after another – it becomes easy to get into the “sure, but not as good as x, y, or z” game. That game can be fun, but it can also lead one to lose sight of the majesty offered and windows opened by outstanding versions such as the one offered tonight. This “CDT” may well get lost in the shuffle of current sustained greatness for this Phish classic… but if you would have dropped this set-opening jam into almost any show from 2009-2011, it would have been a clear (even “top-10”) highlight of that year. The same can be said about this show as a whole.

The first “If I Could” in almost two years (8/29/12 Oklahoma City, 68 shows) set the water theme that would permeate the set in motion – “run with me across the oceans...” and was tenderly and confidently delivered. While “If I Could” was respectfully received, “The Line” represented perhaps the only awkward mis-step of the evening where Trey’s setlist direction didn’t quite hit the mark. “The Line” fell somewhat flat on a crowd that despite their decidedly relaxed temperament was all too ready to dance.

Photo © Phish, Phish From the Road

Solid if controlled versions of “Birds of a Feather” and “A Song I Heard the Ocean Sing” brought the band vibe <-> crowd vibe back into equilibrium, a wave that crested in a crunchy “Mike's Song.” I was taking a rare respite from the front stage area and enjoying the show with a bunch of my JadedVet™ colleagues from The Mockingbird Foundation back by the soundboard, several of whom are the strongest proponents of the “return of the ‘Mike’s’ second jam.” (As an aside, sure, we think the return of the second jam would in fact be wicked cool, but mostly it’s just a joke, a brotherly poke offered in love to our musical heroes… they can play “Mike’s Song” however they darn well please, and we’ll be cheerfully cutting rug in response. Every time!) So when that moment of truth came, the last held chord of the end of “Mike’s” first jam, we all held our breath and…

“Prince Caspian.”

“Waves” paid homage to our seaside locale before the band launched into a throwback ending… back to 2010, with a parade of set closers. “Weekapaug Groove” was a dance throw-down but lacked some of the spark that it had been feeding from the “Ghost-a-paug” sequence favored of late. “Cavern” > “Golgi Apparatus” > “Run Like an Antelope” took us to the finish line in solid, entertaining fashion, but the jamming guns were packed away for the night. A “Wingsuit” encore – what a perfect spot for a song that is digging deep roots early in the fan psyche, this song is loved, deeply, already – and “The Squirming Coil“ brought closure to this mellow but totally satisfying affair. I’d be remiss not to note that part of Page’s outro solo was marred by an embarrassing case of crowd clapping; but after that display of doing-it-wrong, the crowd seemed to compensate and became whisper quiet for the end of Page’s solo.

Photo © Phish, Phish From the Road

Phish is often about reactions to that which came before, sometimes writ large (albums, tours, jamming style) while other pendulum swings take place in microclimates, show-to-show. I’m thrilled beyond belief that the band plays very different types of shows: sometimes of their own accord, following the flow of their individual and collective moods and inspirations, and seeking to understand and play to the audience and mood and venue presented in the moment. Looking at the best shows of the tour, they have so many different vibes – do you like MPP2 or Randall’s3 more? Ginger or Mary Ann? On this night, in this place, for this crowd, Phish performed... perfectly.

We’ll be back tomorrow as we begin to round the tour’s home stretch.

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This is one of several items we're hosting at Phish.net today to engage with students in Stephanie Jenkins' Philosophy class. Here, I attempt to answer questions submitted by her students – about the band, its management, its fans, changes in them, and how that relates to community (this week's topic in the course)...

• I was fortunate enough to have attended this past Sunday's Merriweather show. Clearly this show was "different" from everything else done this summer (to date). Do you think the band makes conscious decisions to attempt a performance like this or -- as my friend put it on the ride home - "does it just happen?". How much does the bands relationship with its community effect this kind of unique performance.

Every factor – decision, intention, community, happenstance, flatulence, etc. – matters at least a little bit for every show. How much any one mattered for any particular show (that is, how much of the variance in show quality or improv or excitement, is explained by any one of those factors), perhaps not even the band members know for certain. (Mike didn't even know that he teased "The Cave"!) But there have certainly been lackluster crowds, mediocre locations, and darker times (It's not all good, brah); and Sunday was a hot crowd in a storied venue when the band is (by most accounts) trending up.

• Do you think Phish -- and bands in general -- choose fan friendly venues that foster community? Is music + community a "magic formula" for band success?

I suspect that all bands, from Phish to the ones that’ll start this weekend in some basement or garage, always want a venue that maximizes the experience, whatever that means. And Phish clearly has been attentive to fan experience, from the start, in innovative ways and to degrees that others don’t typically match or approach.

But I don’t think there’s a strong direct link from venue to community. There are lots of factors about venues – including whether they’re conducive to good sound, security, crowd control, and a good experience for the band – that indirectly facilitate community, partly by there being good shows which focus and ignite the crowd. (David Byrne even makes an interesting argument that the architecture of music venues has affected the kinds of music made, which helps understand a shift from Anarchy to Fuego, if not YEM to Wombat.) I suspect that the band evaluates such factors in terms of their own experience moreso than ours (they’ve played some great shows in some shitholes), and that the benefits to community are essentially just laudable side effects, at least insofar as venue choice goes.

• I think the recent addition of a Phish "pit" is a horrible thing for the phish community because it presents a division in the crowd between what I consider a core group of "greedy" individuals (for lack of a better term; you know who they are) and those who are really just excited to experience the rail or be close to the band. Do you think the "pit" is bad for the Phish community?

There’s always going to be a rail, and certain folks are always going to make their way there. There are advantages to rows and chairs, but weeding out “those (and esp. He) whom shan’t be named” probably doesn’t overcome the advantages of mobility and camaraderie that come from a bit of open space.

• Do you think outdoor shows foster community more than indoor shows?

Per person? No, because there are more people distributed in more ways, and their interaction may be more with the environment than focused on the band - dispersed, distributed, distracted. Put 1/10 the people in a room staring at a stage, and each person is probably more engaged, connected, etc. – however you conceptualize and operationalize community. Outdoor shows tend to have more people, who might have or express or indicate more community in the aggregate, but they are unequally communalized.

Phish, of course, creates exceptions, including nearly a dozen festivals that far exceed the norm for "outdoor shows" -- scores of thousands camping on site, expansive art installations, not to mention innovations in re-entry, water and bathrooms, and, at Coventry, mud. Okay, not all of their unique moments have been desirable, but you might be surprised how much community that mud generated: the stranded walkers, the market for boots, the inescapable suck into which we were all pulled and enveloped. It was a special sort of hell that no one wanted to leave, and that folks walked miles of highway to enter - and was an historic illustration of community that was epically outdoors.

• For me, I feel as though 2009's Festival 8 in Indio was perhaps the most positive Phish -- and perhaps any -- community experience I’ve ever had. What show(s) shows bring to mind community for you?

So many, but I’m old. :) I saw community at my first show, with vendor spillover from Dead tour (I bought a burrito and a phan sticker), and fans trading tapes in the lot. I sincerely felt it at least as early as 2/20/93, with perhaps a dozen Phish.net friends on the rail, mezmerized and hysterical. I saw it grow over the years, and even build across tours (for which summer ’93 is memorable). There were many instances where the birth, growth, and evolution of community among fans was apparent – and perhaps none where it was absent. But Clifford Ball was probably the peak, surpassing even Big Cypress. From start to finish, it felt like everyone was smiling at each other with a, “Yep… wow… can you believe it?” look.

• At Phish shows and festivals in general, I find the lot/camping scene to be an "important space of hope". It's a break, for a day or a week. There's not much that I'd rather do than hit a few shows on a local run or a 3 day festival like Clifford Ball or Dick’s. This is precisely because of the friendliness and generosity that defines the lot scene. It's a vacation for your persona(s); you can just be yourself.

​Agreed. Phish forged serious territory with multi-day, massively-attended, one-band festivals. They do it right, and they do it well. ... Except for Coventry, which sucked -- but we can't glorify festivals without remembering the one that reached the lowest depths. (Have I mentioned the mud?)

• I suspect that most healthy people have some sort of "occasional community" that achieves the same end; getting dressed up and going to church, washing and waxing their Mustangs and going to the car show, bingo, and so on. These too are more substantive than the sense of community with folks you run into every couple days at dunkin donuts and you each half smile at each other. I hope that even if someone doesn't like Phish or the Dead that they have something in life that fulfills the need for community wonderfully as Phish does for me. (Although I think we have more fun than the church going bingo players: more intense, at least as genuine, consistent, pleasant and joyous fun.)

​Right. Every body needs a hobby, a passion, something in which they have faith - Jesus, football, the White Sox, Gravity Falls (new season starts Friday!). But something different happens among music fans. I wouldn't argue that it's deeper, more embracing, or whatever for individuals - but as a collective, there's clearly something further going on. Going further.

• Do you think that the sense of community and belonging and joyous interaction is felt as strongly in other communities as I feel when I'm going to shows? I wonder if music creates and amplifies the Dionysian, the emotional interaction, reaching out. Does an impending NASCAR race create an equivalent satisfaction on race day for those fans? I hope so.

It doesn't seem possible. What's the most collective behavior in which NASCAR fans engage at an event - the wave? or some fraction of them cheering for a particular winner? What at NASCAR, or baseball, or even a Justin Bieber concert (and I've attended two; long live Kuroda!) even approaches the collective mindmeld of audience reactions to and engagement with Phish performances - or, for that matter, with 1000s of other acts? You can sing along (but please don't), air guitar (but no windmills, please), or bounce en masse. Whatever anyone wants to say, philosophically or psychologically, about what's inside the heads of fans in other communities, music fans - and arguably Phish fans chiefly among them - have achieved a level of groupact (never mind groupthink; I'm a sociologist) that's startling.

• It has been stated that some music may cause listeners to enter trance states. However, Bicknell states that "performing musicians do not usually fall into trance states." Do you think this holds true for Phish band members? Being new to Phish, I have observed that there is an intimate connection between the audience and performers. The Dionysian aspect of Phish music causes the audience to "fade into complete forgetfulness of self," as Friedrich Nietzsche puts it. Do you think this same phenomena happens to the band members as well? Just from observation, Trey seems to lose himself in the music. Does this happened with every band member. How do they describe their experiences on stage after each concert?

The members of Phish aspire to a trance state of some sort, as perhaps many improvisational artists do, from their early Oh Kee Pa Ceremony practice/jam sessions, to Mike's frequently writing and speaking about the space between awake and asleep, to... well, just look at Trey's face, when he's doing that back-and-forth rocking with his mouth agape staring into the lights. Certainly some of it is focus, to get through complex improv - but some of it seems more tranced out than Bicknell suggests is common. Trey indeed loses himself in the music. And, on the best nights, so does everyone in the room.

• For you, which Phish song brings the crowd together more than any other?

YEM and Divided Sky do it all: Well-known starts (and audience reactions) as a catalyst, epic composition that illustrates their chops, calm (before the storm) retreats for refocus (and a few clouds of bowl smoke here and there), loose and flowing elements to breed serious improv, and explosive endings. It’s not (just) that I’m a JadedVet: Newer material sometimes gets epic, but doesn’t have all five of those elements, in particular the historied starting signals. Harry Hood also works, and Stash is fine but was better when everyone knew the right number of claps. ;)

• What do you think about "Silent in the Morning" being played without "The Horse"?

Travesty. (And not because the song itself is a travesty, which I mention because some would have taken a one-word answer as a joke. I'd love to hear Horse > Silent > Wading -> Wading Jam -> Waiting -> Waiting Jam.)

• Do you think fan-based commerce at shows (vending of all kinds) helps or hurts the Phish community?

That’s dense with vagueness and normativity: An answer depends on what helps, hurts, and community mean. :) To the extent that community is indicated in exchange relationships, fan-based commerce by definition is, and so helps (or, at least, expands) community. But some products and services, and some vendors and distributors, are probably more conducive than others to various aspects of community such as identity, membership, integration, ritual, connections, etc. (I hesitate to float examples or venture some typology, but there's something empirical to be said about such patterns.)

• Do you think Phish -- the band -- should be doing more to eliminate rampant scalping and secondary market ticket sales that appear to directly impact real fans and the Phish community as a whole?

Phish has done more than most in combating the troublesome elements of scalping, and deserves props for it. There’s always room for discussion about doing more, but I wouldn't put an imperative on the band to do more - partly because I'm an empiricist and partly because I appreciate supply and demand. I’m not opposed to a free market for tickets, as long as the playing field’s equal. Clearly it isn’t always (ever?), and I share opposition to the hacking madness that some folks have used to spin online sales to their advantage. But I support a secondary market for folks who change their minds or lose interest or whatever -- shit happens.

(Note that Phish.net collectively takes an admirable position that you should neither buy nor sell for above face value, and encourages fans to use CashOrTrade.org with a highly rationed menu item.)

• Do you feel as though Phish's relationship with Red Light Management has influenced their creativity and if so is it fair that this can ultimately effect Phish fans as a community?

I know approximately nothing about the band’s relationship with RLM, not even enough to make a sketchy supposition about its impact. But I suspect that any changes in the creativity of the band and its members, particularly to whatever extent those changes affect fans, are far more a function of their age and personal histories than of anything RLM is or does. (The relationship with RLM is itself partly a function of those factors.) I predicted it would slide once I heard they had a backstage cook and masseuse - though it of course slid much further due to drugs and other issues. Maybe RLM, unlike a posh backstage scene, is faciliating more creativity, letting them outsource the hassle and focus on the magic.

As to what's "fair"... No fan has any right to any level of creativity from the objects of their devotion. You don't vest some ownership in Phish continuing to be new, or even good - and no amount of commercialization diminishes anything you have or had. We all hope that wonderful beautiful things will continue forever, but they won't.

• Pearl Jam's Ten Club is a fan program that rewards fans (who pay a nominal annual fee) with special offers such as pre-sale ticket opportunities, special CD releases, exclusive merchandise, etc. Phish offers a ticket pre-sale lottery but do you think a program like the Ten Club brings the community closer together or further apart?

RLM’s sister/subsidiary Music Today runs a number of fan programs, including those for Pearl Jam and (their first) Dave Matthews Band. I’m sure Phish was pitched the idea, perhaps many times, but my sense is that they opted out for a variety of reasons, including perhaps some opposition to exclusivity. So far, their unconventional decisions in other areas have borne out as wise; perhaps this one will as well, someday somehow. But it wouldn't be a fully obsessive fan community if we didn't collectively question things like the relationship with RLM, the relationship with Nugs.net, and the state of the LivePhish app.

• If you had a chance to make a Phish app to bring fans together -- what would you build?

If folks want to glance at their phone in the show, let it bring them back into it, and both draw from and add to the richness of presence at the show. I want a list of designated phriends integrated with a map of the venue: Best Friend Bob is in this seat with the green checkmark, which you can get to if you turn right at the upcoming portal; Ex-Wife Suzy is here at the red X, but you can avoid her by using bathroom A instead of B; forum regulars The Zee Team are meeting here at the purple rhombus at setbreak to plan their chess move. Maybe there's a gaming system, using song predictions or personal gap records or whatever to increment scores on the user icons shown on the venue map. (Hey, ZZYZX's icon just flashed 300 - but Lemuria finally got his mystery ship, which puts him over the top!)

• With social media everywhere, what channel do you think supports the phish community the best (Facebook, twitter, Instagram, PT, other)? Are there channels you would eliminate?

Depends on what kind of support you mean, what you mean by community, what you mean by best. I think they all satisfy different needs -- apparently they do, at least to the extent they continue to be used. (Anyone miss MySpace? OnLive? Google+?)

• From your perspective, what is the role of Phish.net in the phan community?

Phish.net has unparalleled data and related resources, and a community of users that’s notably (even measurably) more positive and engaging than you may find at some alternatives. We hope it continues to evolve to meet the data needs and community desires of evermore fans, while supporting music education grants on the backend. But some folks may prefer something less critical, or more abrasive, and certainly there have been fans who’ve moved on from Phish.net, even of their own accord. I hope every fan finds whatever works best for them, whether that’s Facebook, GroupMe, Whisper, PT, or something else.

• Do you consider Phantasy Tour (aka "PT") a positive community?

PT has entertained many people for many years. Long live PT.

• My college roommate, Jim Raras, used to tell me that the original Phish Companion was almost called "The Turquoise Mountain Messenger" Is this true? :-)

It was almost called 100s of things, but I’m not going to contradict Jim Raras. :)

• Does the presence of online communities like phish.net make the "occasional community" more or less of a “miracle”?

​The Phish fan community has been extended, strengthened, even emboldened by two decades of online interactions in dozens of services and locales - Phish.net throughout that time, and many others than have come and (for the most part) gone. I've met some of my closest friends through it, and become close friends with dozens of people I would never otherwise have known. We've shared birthdays, weddings, deaths. We've held scores of events, and generated hundresd of grants. Every part of it has seemed like a bit of a miracle to me, and I'm about as unreligious as they come. But every day, I'm thankful for Phish as well as for Phish.net. ... Okay, somedays less than others. ;)

• How do you think the technological advances during Phish’s three decades have affected the community? Are we “closer” and more cohesive because of social media, smartphones, and the internet?

There are so many ways to answer that, but... oh, I have some email, texts, and PMs to address...

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Ah, yet another Monday. Yet another workweek to plow ourselves through. Yet another stellar Sunday Phish show's afterglow in which to bask. And yet another Mystery Jam to solve!

Yet another winner will receive an MP3 download courtesy of our friends at LivePhish.com / Nugs.Net. To win, be the first person to identify the song and date of the mystery jam clip. Each person gets one guess per day, with the second “day” starting after I post the hint. A hint will be posted on Tuesday if necessary, with the answer to follow on Wednesday. Yet another chance for me to wish you all good luck!

Answer: This week's clip was taken from the 12/5/99 Meatstick, which @PersnicketyJim identified to win the MP3 DL and pick up his fourth MJM victory, all impressively occurring in the last thirteen contests. Additional kudos to @ucpete for his reverse-engineering efforts, noting that the 12/5/99 Rochester show featured the debut of Sunday's noteworthy bustout, Jennifer Dances. For his efforts, he wins unlimited access to the LivePhish.com MP3 preview clip of his choice. Check in next Monday for MJM #182.

Preamble

When, in the course of human events, your favorite band plays a show that is just stupid-good—and historically important, in the context of an already rich and well-documented history—and, by chance, you have volunteered in advance to write a recap of that show for Phish.net…well, sometimes the best thing you can do is just shut up about it.

But, let's face it, that's not really my thing.

We deliberately call these items “recaps” rather than “reviews” because they are envisioned as timely, just-the-facts accounts of the show, with some amount of on-the-fly analysis mixed in. By design, they violate the “72 hour rule,” invoked by some fans (once upon a time) as a necessary buffer period to digest a show and let its immediate afterglow wear off before issuing any declarations about its greatness.

Yet, how does a just-the-facts summary of Sunday night’s show at Merriweather Post Pavilion, skipping chronologically through the setlist with nods for a tight “The Curtain With” here and a sarcastic comment about “I Saw It Again” there, capture the spirit of what happened? The absurdity of such an approach can be glimpsed in our (reasonable and accurate) setlist: “The third Tweezer included Page teasing Manteca.”

The third Tweezer, mind you.

Would invocations of the Tweezerfests from 1994 add historical context that enriches our appreciation of 7/27/14? Well, yeah, sure. But in the immediate aftermath, all I want to do it listen to it again. Or re-read the live-scroll of my group of JadedVet friends and .net colleagues, some at the show but most (like me) listening or watching from home, reacting in real time to the insanity and flipping out.

Yet I know part of the experience of savoring and enjoying a show, for people like us that come online to read and talk about this band, is indeed to read and talk about it.

But first, let’s take another moment to let it settle in—a show that goes beyond the level of "great" and gets short-listed when people talk about why they like Phish in the first place. And consider this prelude a sort of Havdalah service at the end of Shabbat, formally separating the sacred (if you will) music from the profane discussion of it. (Not to get all William-Blake-of-recaps on you.)

Take a breath. Let the afterglow solidify into a patina of glazed satisfaction.

I’ve been waiting ten years to say this: Phish is back.

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The End of Phish History

In his 1992 book The End Of History and the Last Man, political theorist Francis Fukuyama argued that after the Cold War, Western-style capitalism and democracy had finally emerged as the final stage of political-cultural evolution, signaling the end of the churning series of cultural systems and political ideologies that had been conflicting and clanging against each other since the dawn of human civilization. (I’m no expert, but that’s more or less the gist.)

Since they returned from the Breakup, I had come to feel a similar way about Phish. The initial excitement that accompanied the Return turned, sometime in 2009, into a smile frozen on my face as I nervously looked around the room and waited for things to really get going. That summer of 2009, recall, there was lots of talk about waiting for “3.1” to emerge—the idea was that Phish was still finding its way back, and on some night soon there’d be a moment where they would finally break through again, and return grandly to the improvisational interplay and all-around chutzpah they enjoyed before exiting Coventry in four separate tour busses.

(For all that was troubled in the 2.0 era, Phish returned from the 2000-2002 hiatus at the very top of its improvisational game, and even through the emotionally turbulent August 2004 shows was churning out peak jams, from the SPAC “Piper” of 6/19/04 to the less-remembered but similarly incredibly “Birds of A Feather” from 8/10/04. That’s what made the hastily-announced breakup seem so cruel and bizarre, before it emerged that personal problems—and not the non-existent creative problems cited in Trey’s infamous “we’re done” letter—were the actual cause of the split. And once Trey was frank about that, how could any of us complain that he did what he needed to do to get healthy? But it took years for that to become clear.)

For me and lots of like-minded fans, the sense of linear progress that had marked Phish’s evolution forever (at least through Big Cypress—a feeling Fishman later summed up as “rolling a boulder up a hill”—and then again from the end of the Hiatus through to the ashes of Vegas ’04) was over. In 3.0, it was all a sort of equivalent mush—occasionally there’d be a “Seven BeGhost” or a Pine Knob “Disease,” but shows would always level off again into a place of improvisational hesitancy and ripcords. Phish didn’t seem to be building toward anything anymore. There was not the sense that IT was happening, or that IT could happen at any moment. We were Glad They Were Back™ and went for the experience, to see our friends converge within the show-going ritual, and perhaps to get lucky and catch an “Icculus” or a highlight jam. But the sense that each tour was building upon the previous one to sketch out an ever-dynamic history was sadly missing, for many of us.

Meanwhile, there’s been a weird bifurcation in Phish-appreciation out in the fan community. While the above description is more or less a mainstream summary of what many long-time fans consider to be the “true” story of 3.0, there are many readers who right now are wondering what the fuck I’m talking about.

It’s completely natural that, after a 4-plus years break, a whole new generation of fans has been in its first flush of newbie star-gazing, where everything sounds great and the band can do no wrong. But, although Phish’s biggest fans have been gathering online to parse the band’s musical development and apply the very high standards Phish had earned for itself—all from a place of great dedication to and love for the music—since the early 1990’s, a culture emerged during 3.0 where this was suddenly sacrilegious.

Even though these are the very fans who traded tapes by mail and created the internet network that facilitated Phish’s remarkable, grassroots growth, newcomers had burst into the room and boorishly insisted that “real” fans would never presume to analyze a Phish show objectively, comparing and contrasting what happened last night with what they’d done before.

No, the new orthodoxy was to enforce this End of Phish History at the point of a rhetorical sword: We should all just be glad they’re back, dude. Stop going to shows if you’re going to complain. It’s all good. If you insist on seeing lows that color and give heft to the highs, rather than a flat landscape of identical brilliance, then you just don’t get it. Mini-cults emerged online around newly vocal fans who suddenly emerged and delivered what plenty of new fans wanted to hear: validation that they were present for the glory days of Phish. All evidence to the contrary notwithstanding.

What this rigid line of thought failed to understand was that we were never trying to deny that anyone had had a good time at the show, or that their experience was meaningful and special and worthwhile and Phishy. Or that Phish remained a special band in the musical universe and that we felt lucky to, yes, Still Be Seeing Them At All. All those things remained true. We were just hearing the music in context. Like we’d always done.

And surely, we missed some things that newer, fresher fans could pick up and rightfully enjoy. And in a way, that was our own fault. But JadedVet bitching is really, at bottom, a form of gallows humor. There was never a moment when any of us wouldn’t have rather declared that All Is Well, again. So in the end, who is to say which is the privileged position? Many would surely trade their enhanced appreciation of an atypical "Tweezer" for the jump-up-and-down-joy at your first "Golgi."

While I've been using the royal-jaded "we," this is a good place to note that this recap is expressing my own personal views. It hasn't been approved by any Politburo. Your mileage may vary, or overlap.

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(Digression: Me and Richard Nixon

So who am I, by the way? After seeing my peers get into Phish for several years, I finally discovered the band in 1995 and became instantly obsessed. I spent many hours on the old rec.music.phish. I read every single one of Charlie Dirksen's Tweezerfiles and reviews of Mike's Groove. I contributed lots of content to The Phish Companion and have been on the board of The Mockingbird Foundation since 2000. I've made my evolving relationship with Phish a public thing.

I got jaded, became born again, had a peak life experience at Big Cypress, rode out the Hiatus, was there for the first Return, witnessed the band at a high point in its history at IT, mourned the Breakup, and more or less moved on.

During 3.0 I've been revaluating my relationship to the music and the scene, prompted most, I argue, by what was happening onstage. And though I was very enthusiastic about fall 2013, I was profoundly disillusioned by the "Wingsuit" set at Halloween, and entered probably my lowest point as a Phish fan. I made some very bitter dismissals of that set. I skipped the New Year's Run. I just needed distance. My rage stick seemed broken.

Richard Nixon earned his political stripes and public credibility as an anti-Communist crusader. So it was against type when he ventured to China and started the process of normalizing relations between the U.S. and that country. Thus the expression: only Nixon could go to China.

Although I've come over the years to r.m.p, or the Phish.net blog, or another print or online venue, to declare renewed excitement about what Phish was doing at the time, each time I've found my own way there. Each time it's been an organic process and a pleasant surprise for me. Now I rarely take to the "airwaves" to spout off about Phish. I leave that to people who are more into it, and more qualified to talk about the latest developments. And frankly, I find my long digital trail of pronouncements more than mildly embarassing, as I'm not sure if my current aesthetic (and professional skills/instincts) can really stand behind all of those passionate prouncements from years gone by.

So when I declare my excitement today about what Phish is doing now, it's no knee-jerk thing. It's no play to the masses. But if 3.0 has become a Chinese buffet of renewed artistic relevance, I am shoving my face right into the General Gao's chicken.)

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Umm, yeah, no.

Something funny happened on the way toward Phish’s sad post-history as a nostalgia act. It took more than three years, but Phish got its swagger back. After experimenting with bust-outs and mash-ups to gin up fan enthusiasm in the absence of boundary-breaking improvisational fireworks (or new material) in the previous years, summer 2012 offered more than a tease that things were changing. Then, the Dick’s 2012 shows happened—particularly the first night. In its mold-breaking series of surprising improvisations, spread through an entire show (including the first set), including songs like “Runaway Jim” that seemed like they may never jam again—it felt, in many ways, like the first Phish show since 2004.

Then summer 2013 gave its richest gift, the Tahoe “Tweezer,” a jam that for once could be described with all sorts of superlatives without the caveat “for 3.0.” It reached peaks that were higher than a kitty riding a giraffe. And fall tour was a nightly march toward renewed relevance. The great jams were no longer red herrings. They built upon each other, creating a new level of achievement and creating the sense that there was still a future left to invent.

So, then, summer 2014. The present tour. The one-step-up, two-steps-back phenomenon that characterized 2009-2011 could finally be seen to be over. It’s not just that the jams are better and more frequent, which they are. But that 3.0 tentativeness is gone. There are certainly some inner formulas the band continues to work with, but for the first time in a long time there’s the sense that something like “The Wedge” might suddenly emerge as a major jam, that a piece of improvisation will grow and change direction (even after the first little lull where a few years ago Trey would abruptly jump into “Julius”), that a second set will keep fighting and gain momentum even after the first “cooldown” song or two suggests that things might be winding down for the night. There’s the sense that each night onstage is another chapter in an evolving history. That the music will boldly venture to bed, bath and beyond.

By this point, it’s already been two years of the good stuff—this transcends the level of “exciting promise” and amounts to its own successful mini-era in and of itself. There’s no fear of the rug being pulled out, because the foundation is already there, at a higher level. The sense of the term “3.0” as not only a chronological marker but a rough stylistic grouping is over. This is not your older sister’s 3.0. It’s a new time.

Photo © Phish – Phish From the Road

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Get Back On The Tweezerfest

One emerging trend of the summer tour has been the band’s newfound proclivity for the lost art of segues. Some shows have been held up by obvious, standout jams—the SPAC “Fuego,” the Randall’s “Chalkdust,” etc—others have dipped in and out of exciting jams while nimbly transitioning from song to song. This seemed to have reached its peak with Saturday night’s show, with fare like an out-of-nowhere, Page-led artisanal segue from “Light” into “2001” that provided its own thrill in place of an extended “Light” jam. It’s not a ripcord when it’s an inspired, full-band transition.

So, then comes Sunday night’s show. It’s always good when the boys take the stage looking to disprove the theories of Francis Fukuyama.

Several people have already shouted in my ear that Sunday’s first set is the best first set of the tour. Personally I’m a Big Jam Hunter, so I’d rather get one Randall’s “Gin,” or even the SPAC “Reba” + “SOAM”. But many insist that the first set of 7/27/14 was deep and consistently pleasing in a way that first sets rarely are these days. Though there are no jams of note, as is customary these days, I agree there’s little better summer entertainment than a nice, pre-dusk “The Curtain With.” And a first-set “Sand” is not just a “Sand.” (Is anything?) The set also saw the best two tracks from “Fuego”—the title track, stashed considerately in the first set so as not to arouse false hopes of another Type II breakthrough version, and Mike’s lovely “555.” (Given that Mike introduced Americana to the Phish sound, it’s interesting that his latest output sounds almost like he’s never even heard the work of Mumford and Sons.)

All-around, the first set left people feeling very upbeat about the show. But we know that shows are won and lost in the second set. And after a snappy “Wilson” opener, it was only the third quarter but Phish sensed that it was already winning time.

Some interesting Fishman rhythms in the very infancy of the “Tweezer” jam gave way to what appeared to be a tease of “Get Back On The Train.” But Trey jumped on board right away, guiding a full transition into the song. Fess up, some were grumbling at how the “Tweezer” jam was aborted so quickly. But no, they rode the train for only a verse before zooming back into “Tweezer.” Yes!

The jam that leaves one song, goes to another, and returns to the original song is a particularly prized thing among Phish fandom. It’s special—though fairly frequent in some periods (like Summer 1993), it isn’t even an annual occurrence now. But not only seguing into and out of, but lacing an entire set with Tweezer is the sort of thing that’s referred to in tones of hushed reverence among Phish fans. That’s what they used to do, in 1994, when the magnificence of Phish’s capacity for deep improvisation and inspired, thematic jamming was emerging in full flower. It’s the basis of legendary shows like the Bomb Factory and Big Birch. It’s hardcore, old school, highly accomplished Phish straight to the dome. It’s what happened last night at Merrimeather.

There’s no need for me to narrate the twists and turns of last night’s second set here. And you’re not here to have that briskly outlined, are you? You’re here to share in the sense that something really special happened. And engage in some verbal high-fiving and patriotic fist-bumping. Me too. (In fact, that's have a quick round of 'em. OK.)

Yes, there was some good jamming in the actual “Tweezer,” particularly before the segue into “Waiting All Night” seemed (falsely) to indicate the end of it. But to me, the most important thing about last night is that even in the midst of “Free,” a song that many fans have long dismissed as a source of anything new and interesting, I for one was still perfectly upbeat as I waited to hear what would happen next in this engaging set. Did I think they’d go back into “Tweezer”? No. But when they did, briefly, and then segued right into “Simple,” it felt perfectly natural. It was mold-busting and original and thrilling and simultaneously not at all out of character. It was what Phish does now. Again.

And when “NICU”—a song that to my knowledge had only jammed out once before, in the legendary 12/14/95 show that also featured a multi-headed “Tweezer”—exploded out of nowhere into the highlight jam of the night, it was surely cause to jump up and down and “woo!” at the moon. But it wasn’t a shock. It was Phish, circa summer 2014. Think about it.

So when Fishman took center stage for a “Henrietta” song for the first time since 7/6/12, and launched (apparently spontaneously) into a hilariously mocking rendition of perhaps Phish’s most-mocked (and rarely seen) original, “Jennifer Dances,” it was organically generated humor that sprung from the band/audience relationship. It wasn’t forced. It was loose and optimistic and confident and swinging.

Photo © Phish – Phish From the Road

We’ll spend plenty of time figuring out where to rank 7/27/14, and how to measure its spontaneity and incredible flow versus the more heavy-duty jams found in some other recent places. There’s time for that. We’ll also talk about how a show like last night ranks as great by any Phish standard, including the days of 1994 when Tweezerfests were the hot new item.

But for now, I think it’s enough to exult in the fact that such great stuff is happening on a near-nightly basis. To realize that Fall 2013 and now Summer 2014 are great full-tours, not only “for 3.0” but for Phish. It’s enough just to feel like anything might happen on a given night. Most of all, it’s enough to know that Phish is making its own history. Again.

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This week, Phish.net will host several events in conjunction with, and as part of, PHL360: Philosophy and the Arts at Oregon State University. The course is taught by Assistant Professor of Philosophy and "huge Phish fan" Dr. Stephanie Jenkins, who has nicknamed the course "Philosophy School of Phish." (See promo video and syllabus.)

Through midnight tonight, enrolled students will be submitting questions to be answered in a Wednesday morning blog post by Ellis Godard (aka "Ellis of Lemuria") - an Associate Professor of Sociology and Executive Director of the Mockingbird Foundation, who has been involved with Phish.net since 1991 (and who earned a minor in Philosophy, though perhaps too long ago to be helpful.)

Throughout the day on Wednesday, Drs. Godard and Jenkins will lead discussions about these and other questions in a forum thread (possibly two; they'll be sticky'd at the top). We welcome the involvement of enrolled students in what we hope they will find to be a vibrant and inviting community. And we hope our forum regulars are ready to step up their rhetorical game and hone their linguistic chops for some serious scholarship about the band, their music, and we fans.

Finally, on Wednesday evening, Dr. Godard will host a Google Hangout session for student, to wrap-up discussion, answer additional questions, and reflect on Phish.net and students' experiences here.

The class' topic for the week is "Community". Readings include two chapters of Jeanette Bicknell's Why Music Moves Us, as well as "The Everyday Miracle of the Occasional Community" by John Drabinski, part of Steve Gimbel's The Grateful Dead and Philosophy: Getting High Minded about Love and Haight. Bicknell's book ships from the UK and will take weeks, but Drabinki's chapter is online.

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