Phish Is Back and Trey Would Like a Word with All of You

The day before my 6-year Phishiversary I was able to catch Phish’s first-ever show in Arkansas for my 26th show overall, a milestone I had hoped to reach last year, but, well, we all know what happened. And, yeah, about that. Trey’s got something to say to you. And me. And, apparently, to Sara Huckabee Sanders.

This show actually reminded me a lot of my very first show. With me in attendance was my wife (who was not with me for my first show; this was her 23rd show overall) and my buddy who got me into the band in 2015 (after multiple attempts to convert me in the preceding years) (who was there with me at my first show. And he brought his 19-year-old daughter for her first show (who dug it!)). He is a true ambassador for Phish Nation.

We arrived early (about 4:00 PM) to do Shakedown. My wife found a great pair of earrings and pendant from a purveyor of wares we have frequented on tours past @lilydrivestoofast on Insta—give her a follow and check out her tent on tour). My wife was so happy, at least until the sun started baking her to a crisp (she is actually allergic to heat, and it was brutal. Hottest of my 26 shows (though Austin 2018 is a close second). She suffered through, enjoyed the music, but is still hurting today. Such are the sacrifices of a true fan (though she tells me this is the last outdoor summer show she will do (other than Dick's)). You know what that means: hello NYE run!

The venue was OK. Not too much trouble getting in. No real hassles with security. Ushers (in our area, anyway) were friendly and reasonable. We had a bunch of aisle dancers next to us, and they were a blast to watch. The concession choices sucked, the lines got long after about 6:45, but the folks running the concession stands were among the friendliest I have encountered anywhere. We were hoping that having seats would keep us out of the sun, but the way the venue is configured, that didn't really work out (to my wife's dismay). I avoided alcohol, and was drinking water as fast as possible, with multiple trips to the water-fountain or concession line to refill and replenish. But it was hard to stay hydrated, especially as I was rolling on both Delta 8 and classic gummies, which kept the thirst-meter pegged at an unquenchable 11 all evening.

Crowd energy did not disappoint, though the oppressive heat had to dampen the reaction compared to what it might have been had we been enjoying cooler temps. The crowd went nuts when the band took the stage. I got chills and bumps and maybe a few tears welled in my eyes. It would not be the only time that would happen.

My first impression, given the setlist (in which we essentially were treated to “two first sets” with no “monster jams”) was that this would be one of those shows that would be much better in person than listening back. One of my favorite things about going to shows in person as opposed to listening on headphones or whatever is that certain songs I never listen to are really a lot of fun at the show (I'm looking at you NICU and Fuego). I'm a terrible dancer and actually enjoy standing fairly still as I lose myself in the music. But I love watching people who can really dance get down to the danceable tunes. One of my favorite things about a Phish show--seeing all that joy being expressed is such a beautiful buzz. This was a very live-audience-friendly show. And since I was so fortunate, blessed, privileged, and beyond grateful to be numbered among those in attendance, I enjoyed it thoroughly, and I will never, ever take for granted the wonderful gift of live music generally and Phish concerts in particular. But as much as I enjoyed the surrounding atmosphere, I have since discovered in listening back the last two days that this show actually sounds even better in the recording than it did in the venue (for me).

There were no big, long jams. But there was plenty of jamming. Was it a “rager?” Not really. Any jams that will make it into the JOTY Final Four six months from now? Highly doubtful (though maybe Wolfman’s will get into the tourney). Were the vocals hit-or-miss? Yup (but, honestly, when is that not the case, really?). Was there rust? Sure, a little, but not nearly as much as some are suggesting, and to my ear they were more in sync than in many other tour openers of recent years past. Yeah, there were some flubs (Bouncing was sub-par; the first three minutes of Free were a little rough; Fuego had some issues; the laugh/cough samples from Fishman in Slave were jarring). But overall, the play was tight, the band was clearly having a blast and was happy to be there (one of them said at the end of Slave, “Oh my god, it’s good to play again.”); there were some interesting and novel new jamming sounds, and Trey’s new guitar tone is simply glorious. I cannot wait to hear what he does with that over the course of the year.

I really liked the new light rig with the angled running lights and rainbow of colors, and CK made good use of the canopy ceiling (is ceiling the right word?) covering the pavilion. I'm really looking forward to what he has in store for us as tour goes on. I’m sure he has many tricks up his sleeve. There were times when the light combinations seemed to create an almost three-dimensional sphere around the band members on stage. It was truly spectacular.

Trey’s guitar tone, Mike’s grooving, Kuroda’s lights, Fish’s excitement, Page’s moody keys, the band’s love for the fans and appreciation for the gift they have in being able to go out on the road again—all these things bode very well for not only the rest of summer tour, but the whole year. The show is an auspicious sign of things to come.

In the context of when and where this show was played (and even who was in attendance) and all we have been through the last 18 months, this was quite a remarkable show. I believe this show will long be remembered, and it will grow in esteem as time marches on (bucking the usual trend of an initial flurry of high marks followed by inevitable decline). I think it will age well. And part of the reason for that is this: lurking beneath what on the surface appears to be a prototypical “3.0 show” that looks like it might have been churned out by an algorithm that was fed all the setlists from the last 7 years, there is a clear and consistent (alternatingly subtle and, um, not-so-subtle) message from Trey. Yes, he wants us to know he loves. Yes, he is glad to be back and happy to see us. But, goddammit, he wants us all to stop fighting and start treating each other with equanimity. And he wants us to ne smart. He is gently telling the few of us who are still not with the program to quit being knuckleheads and follow the science, get vaccinated, and wear a fucking mask already. He also has some criticism for those who are continuing to divide us, continuing to harm the body politic, and continuing to resist the message of peace, love, and understanding. Trey’s looking at you, Sarah Sanders!

How do I know this? Well, he told us. In virtually every song the band played. Each song is like the piece of a mosaic which, when put together, forms an image, the message of which is clear. Let’s go song by song and we will see that this show was equal to far more than the sum of its parts.

1. I Never Need You Like This Before. This one is obvious. Trey is pleading with us to not continue to let the twin diseases of Covid and hyper-partisanship divide and conquer us: “There's something in this silent wood That won't, although I know it could, Ensnare us in a veil so black We'd never find the passage back.” Oh, and also, he loves us and missed us, and is glad to be back because if had to make one more dumb Youtube video from his house with his cat he’d go nuts. (For Trey’s wonderful tone, check out the 2:51-3:30 range).

2. Tube. “give myself to science, I felt that it could help.” Hear that, anti-maskers? Anti-vaxxers? Science. It can help if you’ll give yourself to it. Try it. Please. It’s “stupendous, living in this tube.” So let’s not fuck it up, OK? We’re almost to the goal line. Let’s not fumble this. Get vaxxed already. Yeesh. That’s what Trey is saying. (For Trey’s tone, check out 2:38 to 5:49—it’s like melted butter).

3. Free. A song to express what we all feel—the joy of feeling the feeling we forgot for the first time in ages. This was the first time after the band started playing that the goosebumps hit and the tears welled up. But it would not be the last. The crowd sang that particular line with a little extra mustard each time.

4. Bouncing. Always a good pairing with Free. Again referencing how good it is to be back together again: “that time then, and once again, I’m bouncing round the room.” The crowd picked up on this reference and sang this part with gusto.

5. 46 Days. “sit yourself down when you’re ready to stay” but also “taste the fear for the devil’s drawing near.” A perfect encapsulation of the current moment: the joy we feel at being together again because of the miracle of modern science giving us the vaccine, but also the warning that the present moment is tenuous. Let’s not fuck this up, mmkay? (Second nice little jam of the night. Check out the 4:00-7:00 segment for the highlights).

6. Limb by Limb. “I never want a hacking cough.” Yeah, me neither. Any initially skeptical readers still have doubts that Trey is using the setlist to send a message? Oh, and we get our first dig at Sarah Huckabee Sanders and those of like mind: “Left is where I always turn.” Heh. (Trey’s tone is just so gorgeous in this song, which may become my favorite LxL ever. I had an out-of-body experience as my gummies really kicked in. Check out 3:17-7:00, especially 6:17-6:55. Just glorious).

7. Wolfman’s Brother. If things are gonna get better, there’s gotta be some big changes. From all of us (but some more than others). Not little changes. A complete metamorphosis is required. And what better symbol of metamorphosis than the Wolfman (yeah, yeah, I know. Butterflies. But Phish does not have a song called Butterfly’s Brother, so this was the next best thing). Song of the night. Early JOTY tournament contender. Check out 3:50 to, well, the end, with one ridiculous note in the 8:40-9:00 range).

8. NICU. How many stories have we been subjected to over the last 18 months about hospital ICUs? And now with Delta variant, NICUs are starting to overflow in certain areas: “nice evening at home I dread even more” (could Trey be telling us he really, really didn’t like being holed up in his NYC apartment all that time? I think so, yes). “Would you please make clear to me I’m peering through your opacity Though you rehearse tomorrow’s verse Forgive me if I don’t sing in your key.” Another dig at the folks who are “opaque” to facts or reason. Another dig at Huckabee? Perhaps.

9. Drift While You’re Sleeping. As we all know, this is a song about losing loved ones, and how we deal with the aftermath of that trauma. 4.2 million people have died of Covid worldwide since the pandemic began 18 months ago (probably more: does anyone think China has only lost 4,000 to the virus?). Here Trey implores us to “turn the page” from the wars we wage while giving us a nod to the terrible heat we are suffering through with “the sun feels warm and that heat there is truth. And he strikes a hopeful chord at the end: “love will carry us through.” (Check out Trey’s tone at 3:10-4:50; 8:42-9:10, and 9:29-11:25 (chillbump alert!))

10. Down with Disease. Boo disease! Boo! “Nothing I can say to make it stop.” It has certainly felt that way at times, hasn’t it? So what’s the answer?

11. Simple. D’uh. This ain’t that hard, folks. When confronted with a plague, perhaps you should try avoiding it like, I don’t know, the plague? Another message for the thickheaded numbskulls who haven’t quite figured it out yet. Get vaxxed, etc. Quit being a dumbass. This is pretty simple stuff, actually. (Trey’s tone from 4:00-9:45 is just wonderful. The DwD>Simple part of the show is certainly a highlight)

12. Fuego. Definitely a nod to the heat of the evening. But also there is this: “I see guilty people, angels blowing horns.” Perhaps he spotted Sanders in the crowd? Or perhaps he is simply lamenting the massive loss of life and the accompanying “angels blowing horns” to welcome them to their eternal rest.

13. Plasma. Another Covid-laden title, as plasma has been used to treat Covid patients. I think Trey really hated being cooped up for so long, as did so many of us (I didn’t leave my house but maybe ten times in over a year. “No matter how you slice your day or dream of places far away or try to set your world apart You always end up where you start.” If that doesn’t describe the frustration of every day being like the movie Groundhog Day while I was working from home in my PJs in that lost year, I don’t know what does. From the history of this song on this site: “Plasma is apparently a conversation of sorts (perhaps between Tom Marshall and Scott Hermann) with one voice taking the view that people don’t change despite their best efforts, and the other expressing a belief in personal evolution.” Sense a theme here yet?

14. Runaway Jim. Another song about loss (obliquely)—this time the loss of a beloved dog. Trey’s “singing for Jim who’s swimming in the fountain” which can be heard as another metaphorical elegy for the many souls we have lost in the last 18 months.
15. Weekapaug Groove. OK, I admit I’ve got nothing on this one. Other than it was really cool to get a ‘paug on its own, unattached to Mike’s Song. Do we call this Runaway Groove or Weekapaug Jim? I’m gonna go with the former.

16. Rift. Ok, here we go. Rift in a prime second-set slot. That ain’t no accident or coincidence. “Through which I could spy several glimpses beneath Of the darkness the light from above could not reach I spied wings of reason, herself taking flight And upon yonder precipice saw her alight And glared back at me one last look of dismay As if she were the last one she thought I'd betray” A clear-eyed observation of the lunatic fringe that emerged over the last 18 months—the Covidiotic death cultists who abandoned reason and covered the land in darkness, seemingly completely impervious to the light of reason. ”And silence contagious in moments like these.” Did someone say contagious? “And shocked and persuaded my soul to ignite.” All reasonable people have been shocked by what we’ve witnessed during the last few years and the last six months in particular from the mouth=-breathing dipshits who have exalted stupidity above science and reactionary recalcitrance above reason. The inclusion of this song can also be viewed as the band’s lamentation on the “rifts” that we’ve all seen and felt in our communities, our families, and yes, even in our “phamily.” In retrospect, Rift might be the most powerful song of the night—and its placement in the center of the second set seems designed to emphasize the centrality of the message.

17. If I Could. A song Trey wrote for a close friend who was struggling and who Trey wanted to cheer up. It’s especially poignant in the context of this show, as it perfectly captures the yearning and longing for normality we felt during the pandemic. How often did we want someone to just take us to another place, to get out into the whispering breezes. And how often did we have to say to ourselves and our loved ones during this time “if I could I would, but I don’t know how.” I think, in particular, of the health-care workers to whom we owe such a debt of gratitude. How often have they felt the plaintive longing to be somewhere other than the hellscape that was their day-to-day existence during this pandemic? (Check out Trey’s tone from 4:45-end)

18. Rise/Come Together. Another dig at Sanders. Or at least the people who are tearing us apart with lies, disinformation, and sowing seeds of discord and division. In case the more subtle approach had gone over some heads, Trey decides to apply a more direct approach, bopping us over the head with the message. This one actually sounds a lot better to me on re-listen than the night of the show. (Beautiful Trey tones from 3:45-5:00).

19. Slave to the Traffic Light. A final nod to what we have all been going through collectively. The traffic light is perfect metaphor for the two steps forward, one step back we’ve had to endure. The desire to just move forward with total freedom and abandon, but not being able to because, well, reality has a way of halting our progress, forcing us to stop and start, then stop again. It’s frustrating. But you know what makes it less frustrating? Blissy jams! And Fishman’s nonsense! Both of which can be found in this beautiful set-ender.

20. Say it to Me S.A.N.T.O.S. Another nod to the rifts that have developed with “we are divided.” But also: “You’ll always remember where you were.” This is true of the first time I saw this song live on 10/31/18. And it’s true of this one as well. No lies to be found here. I will always, always remember this night. I have seen hundreds of live shows over the last forty years all across America. Live music has been a ginormous part of my life. Having no live in-person concerts the last 18 months has taken a toll on my mental health (though, of course, I realize that I am privileged and fortunate in so many ways to have not suffered much more in so many other ways, as so many others have). Finally, one last nod to those we have lost: "Like everyone else, you will always be remembered, even life itself.”

What a beautiful, artful, cohesive, brilliantly designed and executed show.

Bottom line: Every live show is a gift to be cherished. And this one is certainly no exception to that rule.