GOLDEN YEARS

Something pretty special just happened on the 33rd anniversary of Phish's very first show at SPAC, opening for Carlos Santana in 1992.

Whether you’re tuning in the day after this show to try and sort things out while I do the same and write this, or you’re a time traveller scouring the archive for anchors and milestones to try and decode the inter-dimensional shower of blessings that is Phish, I’ll do my best to try and leave some kind of appropriate trace on the walls of the cave here, so-to-speak. On that note, if you do start here (and why not?), please do make sure and check out the previous two nights of this instantly historical run at SPAC in 2025. While it started innocently enough on Set 1 on 7/25, things warmed up very quickly after that, as my review of 7/26 will attest. If you want to think in even broader context, go back to Mexico 2024 immediately following the Gamehendge bookend. Something started there that emerged fully formed on 7/27/25 and blew a Tweezerprise-bomb-sized-hole in the fabric of the Universe. Of course, by that token, to fully understand what happened last night I suppose you would also go back to the Bomb Factory in 94, or the SPAC shows a decade following that, so we should probably stop playing this game and get to it. Suffice it to say: yes folks, based on these shows, Phish's 'golden years' are much also among their ... golden years.

Rather than do a play-by-play breakdown (which feels almost masochistic given the state I’m in after three nights of throwing down—sober, mind you), I’ll try and sum things up with 6 key points (one for every Tweeprise in the setlist, why not..)

1) Sure, this looks like a ‘fun’ show on paper. The band has played tons of fun shows with themes and gags that weave in and out of the performances, most notably among them the various ‘Tweezerfests.’ While this show obviously had a Tweezer-related thread and gag (‘do you get it?’), to suggest that this is what made the show would be a criminal oversight.

2) This show is almost all incredible type II jams. Tweeprise #1, Roses, 46 Days, Melt, KDF, Twist, Tweeprise #2 (!) showcase the band having coalesced a ‘25 sound that is reminiscent of both the space-shredding of 2021, the fusion and funk of the best of 2.0, and the punchy hose of 95 thirty years prior, and the haunting space chants of Bowies of yore. They have not sounded quite like this all year. It has shown up in fits and starts alongside other less-interesting jamming habits that often dominated 2022-2024. It all came together at SPAC this weekend, and really gelled last night.

3) The type II Tweeprise jams aside, the way it was used in songs like Reba, Melt, Roses, etc was really tight and complementary, rather than being a distraction. So many worthwhile details, the Reba-peak, Fish’s nod to the Reba ending while still holding the Tweeprise, which he would do again in when closing the Melt. Chef’s kiss.

4) The details on the rest of the performance are no less impressive. When the band is really on, and they know it, and the crowd knows it, and a feedback loop is created that powers every moment of the show with nary a dip. The Funky Bitch, the About to Run, the Boogie On, you think these are skippable? Think again. Which brings me to..

5) If you’re scanning the reviews here to see what highlights from the show you should check out, just stop. Stop right now. You’re not allowed to do that. I know it’s 2025 and your teen only listens to 30 second clips of songs on TikTok, let alone a whole song, but I’m sorry. You have to play this one starting at the Buried Alive, and take it to home to the Hood. Don’t worry, the actual Tweezer is only 5 minutes.

6) Oh yeah, about that Tweezer. First time they ever encored with it, wouldn't you know? That's pretty cool.

🤯