Set One Notes:
Buried Alive is a great opener every time, and Trey gets the crowd going early. The ending melts into loopy weirdness, leading to the start of Disease. What a solid 1-2 punch opening pairing here, with this band coming out to play. A friend comments that “Trey is ripping!”, and he is absolutely right. This DWD is fantastic Type-I action, the band just cruising at high altitude, before diving straight down into siren-bliss. Makisupa emerges, nice call here, dropping the low-key, goofy stoner-vibe on the crowd after a rager of a Disease. They get into that ’97 fuck-with-you delayed-out trippiness, before snapping back into Makisupa. CDT brings us back to the raging, the band certainly in a mood tonight. This is Northeastern, cold weather, hockey arena rock music. The jam builds tension before bursting through, the crowd definitely approving. The jam twists and spirals upward, great Type I version here. When Ghost drops, I’m immediately thinking that this is certainly shaping up to be a hell of a set. The jam goes straight into low-key, vibey crunch-funk. It soon gains momentum into driving machine-funk, just charging over the crowd in high gear, flying grooves, Mike hammering away. The band stops on a dime, Trey in the wah-spotlight. The band goes right back to business, Page sailing synth deliverance into another Trey wah-spotlight moment. The band is impressively locked-in as they drop back in, driving to another small peak before an abduction groove outro. Divided Sky starts up, and this set is getting to be Too Much. What a welcome contrast of vibes, with a mostly clean composed section, the song and jam delivering me to a late summer daydream, watching golden light emerge around a a thunderhead looming in the distance. A blistering jam with a sweet, sweet resolution. Dirt plays it role as a peaceful space to move and breathe so well, and this set has earned its Dirt for sure. Taste is its standard-ultra strong ’97 rocking and peaking self, and a patriotic acapella Star-Spangled Banner closes the set.

Set Two Notes:
A Mike’s dropping to start any set is a sign that things are about to get good very quickly. The jam immediately drops into a pounding siren’d-out groove, Trey on tractor beam leads, the place erupting as the band hits an upshift. “Fishman is on one tonight!” a friend says. Yep. Fish 2K always gets it done. The jam widens out, the groove stretches and spreads, settling into a murky siren-pit, bass popping and pounding, locked-in Fish 2K, this is a fantastic jam, and I am led into a weird déjà vu space. Disconcerting, man… Trey’s solo really gains heat and starts projecting upwards, the band fully opening the music wave throttle, the peaks they are hitting here are in the Himalayas of Phish jams. This is an all-time Mike’s, I’m convinced. Simple is a good call here, and this one feels like it is slightly slower and heavier. The jam is very light and wispy, and soon, the rhythm fades and Trey and Page are left floating, implying the changes as they run melodies around each other. The duo is just hanging on each other’s chords as the full band reemerges leading into Dog Faced Boy. “This set is just nutty” a friend comments. Ya Mar takes the set to warmer musical climates, singing about Trey’s grandpa, Grand Puti (?). Page plays for him, before the jam moves towards a percussion center. Trey and Mike run musical orbits around Fish’s center, before Mike pushes for a minor funk groove as Trey makes passes at Xeyed, building into a charging groove with heavy peaks. Weekapaug emerges after a strange transition, Mike definitely pushing for it. He keeps the slapping and popping going deep into the jam here, taking control, Page crunching the clav over Mike’s basement-level pounding. “Mike is unreal right now”, a friend says. This has been a Mike jam through and through, before the entire band starts raging into a ball of plasma that opens back up into the ‘paug jam-proper. The crowd explodes with the hit of the highest Weekapeak, before the jam slides into a short ‘70s alien-disco space (via Page), then exploding back towards another final peak. The crowd is into the Bouncing call here, and while this is probably divisive for a lot of listeners, I fall on the side that says that this is a good call, with this song serving as a good-vibes comedown after a killer set. Zero closes the set with high energy, Rockstar Guitarman conjuring Hendrixian spells, Mike hitting the ground-pounders hard. Trey is casting musical cables outward, pulling all of the crowd’s energy into the band, which explodes in a final cathartic release. For the encore, Ginseng Sullivan is fun, and it’s still my favorite “bluegrass” song they do. Will it be a single encore with just that though? No, Sample in a Jar closes the show in proper hard-working rock band-form, sending the crowd back out in the cold late-fall night with a lot of residual heat.

Listen to all of Fall ’97.