If this show is any harbinger of things to come in 2024, look out below.

If you're anything like me, you're still trying to figure out how Phish managed to sound as good as they did in 2021, and have spent the last couple years chasing those highs, to mixed results. Some incredible moments peppered 22-23 no doubt, but a lot of tricks and tropes that were starting to feel pretty familiar and homogenous. Was the band distracted by the lead up to the big Gamehendge show? Was it just the ebb and flow of improvisation, putting on big shows, the toll of touring, and getting on in age? How long can they keep this up?

Well I don't know the answer to that question, but this show, the first two set affair of 2024 following Gamehendge, certainly makes it feel like a stupid question to be worrying about. From Birds through Bug this is band that sounds rested, revived, and ready to dig deeper. Centering it is a 35 minute Wave of Hope that immediately puts all the big long jams of recent years on notice. I'm not one that typically gets seduced by a long run time. In fact I've tended to find a lot of them meandering and uninteresting for long stretches. (Give me the flawless and engaging 18 minute 4/23/23 Cities over the bloated 30 minuted Fuego from 7/29/23 any day.) This isn't one of those. It's engaging from the outset and weaves through various themes effortlessly, never lingering too long, and showcasing each member at their best. While the jam has numerous highlights, I'd argue it's the stretch around the 23-24 minute mark (coming out of a this crunchy noise rock that @MattBWeston has rightly highlighted in his review as an important hallmark of this emerging era). Some on the forum have been referring to it as the 'So What' section for the brief counterpoint of notes Trey hangs on as he weaves the theme here. I'm not sure how apropos that is—it's a stretch. But the jam segment and Trey's run of licks here is not. This does not sound like a man about to turn 60 in September. He sounds more like the guy who destroyed the Grey Hall in Copenhagen in 1998, and the Warfield in April 99 with Phil and Friends. The almost reggae-like atmospheric denouement of the jam must have felt pretty sweet indeed on the beach in Mexico. Gorgeous soulful notes to close it out and land in what may the band's grooviest offering of Oblivion to date. It may not be the most exploratory or long version they've done, but if you want another sign that the band is feeling fresh and inspired, hear what Page has to say about what 'awaits.' Page's reemergence in the sound here may be the most promising development on display. Here we're getting echoes of what made 2021 such an incredibly strong year—with Page engaged and challenging for space the whole sound just blows open. Mike and Fish can stretch and punctuate and groove with more ease. Easy oblivion.

There's plenty to chew on on either side of this centerpiece. The 15 minute Tweezer is no slouch by any stretch, pulling together a lot of the better moves from '23 but condensed into a much more efficient and engaging vehicle, again with inspired licks and lines. It's telling how good a show this is that it may not be the first or even third jam mentioned here.

How about that 20 minute Birds in the first set? Fresh, gnarly and noisy. (The only knock here maybe the forced reentry to the Birds theme to close.) Axilla gets it first extended treatment since April 22, this one a perfect showpiece for the noisy satanic set closer they've been enjoying unleashing lately. And while it may not have insane replay value, I don't think anyone is going to complain about a 4th quarter Tube->Jim->Tube.

Bug is a beautiful closer to a beautiful performance here, and a nice counterpoint to an absolutely ripping Roggae in the first set that I'd be remiss to not mention, given the DNA the songs seem share. So what's the verdict, is this show a sign of things to come in 2024, another rebirth that makes it easy not to think about the past? It doesn't matter!