IT is that moment when the world wells up inside us and bursts through in all its potential and happening. Past and future are obliterated—the moment is charged and alive, and we are enthralled. IT is happening, and there is no place we’d rather be than present. IT is a feeling we often both chase and numb with drugs. Phish is blessed to offer us a preponderance of IT; nowhere else is IT available with such frequency, community, and joy.

Each night at Dicks we got genuine IT moments. For me, the first occurrence happened almost immediately. Second song: No Men in No Man’s Land, about 11 minutes in, when Trey starts screeching out a dizzying array of distorted squeals to bring us to climax. The moment was pure momentum, pure heightened awareness, pure presence, and pure artistry.

The second night, to feel the IT maybe required the dedication of a true phan—the knowledge of the band’s history that you carry with you into each listening and experiencing. When Page departed the stage, leaving Mike to finish Squirming Coil was an IT. You could only be present with Mike, basking in his performance, proud to bear witness.

The third night was nearly all IT. They were juggernauts, behemoths of potential and power. They were masters of the moment, bestowing gold not just to all they touched, but to time itself, the fabric of space-time fully awoke. The refrain of “Still Waiting” was an ironic ode to their present achievement. The contagion of IT was felt a thousandfold as the crowd chanted “Still Waiting” before the encore. The wait was over. IT had been happening.