Boy, do I have some conflicting feelings about this show...

After attending the tour openers in Eugene and Seattle, I watched this show from the comfort of my living room thanks to a fittingly intimate webcast from this very intimate venue. Where the previous two shows were exercises in precision with only a few precious moments of inspired jamming (Eugene Crosseyed, anyone?), this show featured some bold jamming early in the second set, but suffered from a string of flubs and miscues that really detracted from the experience overall.

The show looks like it started off strong on paper with a Stash opener, but the tempo was a little slow, which may have been a deliberate choice by the band. Knowing that, I expected them to construct a masterpiece of tension with soaring peaks akin to the best 90s versions (and a couple of exciting first-set readings this year). Instead, though, they quickly abandoned the jam and moved along to standard readings of both Possum and Ocelot that both stayed very much in the box. Is that inherently an issue, though? Unlike some fans who crave a return to the exploratory approach to first sets from the late 90s and the flub-and-jam 2.0 era, I have no problem with a varied first set that stays mostly in the box. There are certain songs that excel in this format (cue NICU), so I think it works when they play those songs well. Unfortunately, a by-the-book first set was the least of this show's issues.

Starting with Back on the Train, this first set took on an entirely different complexion. It's difficult to put my finger on a specific issue without a second listen, but it sounded like the band began to lose its footing and stumbled a bit down the stretch as the truncated jam reached its conclusion. They recovered nicely with the newer, less frenetic material (Waiting, Yarmouth) and dusted off that wonderful Los Lobos cover, but stumbled again -- hard this time -- during Heavy Things. Unfortunately, that stumble led to a complete faceplant during Stealing Time, which featured one of the most disjointed intros in recent memory. Thanks to the clarity of the webcast, it was easy to see the frustration on Trey's face and hear it in his voice as the band rounded out a typically lean reading to close the set.

I had high hopes that the second set would be all about redemption and, for a while, it seemed that would be the case. After a surprisingly short setbreak, the band emerged rejuvenated and kicked into a set-opening Chalk Dust that kept a very deliberate pace, on par with the 29-minute set-opening masterpiece from Randall's Island this summer. As the jam immediately took off into deep space, the band coalesced in a way that had completely escaped them during the first set. As that incredible jam gave way to a truly inspired Ghost, it seemed that the band had completely regained their footing and would sprint to the finish line, relegating tonight's show to the "tale of two sets" category so common to this era.

Sadly, though, that premonition turned out to be premature. As the Birds jam floundered, Trey tried to signal the band that he was about to pull the ripcord and finish the song, but Fish didn't get the memo. The botched ending was yet another missed step in a night that featured many and immediately took me out of the experience. To be fair, the band took a mulligan and replayed the ending again on its own (to show they could get it right, I suppose), but while Page tried to shift focus and engage the intimate crowd in baseball talk, Trey decided to chime in with a comment about the ending that drew even more attention to a mistake that would have otherwise been a minor footnote.

The band had another chance to deliver redemption by way of a second-set Wombat that could have been on par with the great type-II Chicago version, and while that seemed possible for a brief moment when the jam took a dark left turn, the band -- perhaps conscious of their flubs -- instead dialed it back to a compact finale. Tweezer would allow another opportunity, and while the jam did deliver some fine improv in the form of a wonderful repeated arpeggio, it was ultimately too little, too late. Trey managed to eek out a decent -> segue to a truncated Julius, but an abbreviated Piper and a lethargic Velvet Sea seemed to seal the fate of this show. The final flub during the Suzy intro seemed like a fitting finish line blooper on a night where, despite some very inspired moments, sure footing was hard to come by.

For the sake of rigor, I will say that Boogie On was a strong encore and featured a brief-but-exciting tension-filled jam that eventually led to perfunctory Tweezer Reprise. After a strong show, Reprise seems like a welcomed exclamation point; however, after tonight, it seemed more like a compulsory send off.

I am fully aware of the "webcast bias" and I will admit that my review should probably be taken with a grain of salt. Having just had the time of my life at a couple of average-great-but-oh-so-rare Pacific Northwest shows, I know how easy it is to turn off the critical mind when you are there in person. I am sure all 4,562 people lucky enough to land tickets to this show had the time of their lives seeing Phish in such an intimate venue and no amount negativity from those of us stuck on the couch will change that. After all, isn't that why we travel across the country to see them year after year?

So, y'know, it was an off night. No big deal. I probably won't re-listen to the show any time soon. If you do, fair warning: there are a few of cringe-worthy moments that will take you out of it in a big way. But, hey -- the tour is young and there's still a lot of magic to be had. You can't let one rough night get you down. Onward!