Man, that first set is SOLID. I was working, but I cranked up the LivePhish recording and simply lapsed into the "zone." At the same time, I was able to bob up at moments (Mmm, Stash, ::radar opens:: Many other songs, too; I mean . . . ). Overall, what I notice is (I dare say) "swagger." This is solid, swinging music, feet firmly planted on the gravity beat. Even Party Time is hammeringly tight with a side of bouncy fun.

If one is apt to quibble over a stumbled note or finger change, I say, "Boo!" The amount of nights I had epic fails as a fan demonstrate that I would never have that much composure on a Dionysian stage. Not only that, but the switch from old to new is definitely palpable well past 50. Let me tell ya, I used to pride myself on pulling out names for faces, in person or conjuring from afar, with seamless ease context to context, no matter the, ah, melt. Now? Um, let's say I have to "change gears" once in while: downshift climbing after a long flat to forget. Transitions aren't what they used to be.

The second set spaces that Phish can open and conjure exemplify their ability to transcend limitations and squeeze beauty from a steel and concrete arena. For that matter, Ruby Waves clocks in well under 8 minutes but dissolves into a searching jam reinforcing my belief that new material often inspires inspired playing. The Seven Below that follows rings in a fully modern Phish. (Chalk Dust and Piper being the only 1.0 not including encore.) I dig that.

I'll say the obvious: Fans who are not fans of this show are not fans of the GOTF and other new songs. That's all. Phish's playing is ON POINT. Page has a lot of the funk wobbling, and Mike sounds good in this mix. Fishman was better than ever in 3.0, and Trey is downright laser-eyed at moments; don't let the foot pedal trickery fool you. I mean, Chalkdust hits a fork in the road and never looks back. I could see how headbangers wouldn't like it. If you're a space cadet, though, this is worth the wile.