Mr. Miner's Phish Thoughts

Christmas lights speckling buildings and trees like a fairy tale, the smell of chestnuts roasting from street vendors, the chill of the winter air, the sound of horse-drawn carriages walking the streets—there is nothing like December in New York City. A place that already exudes a one-of-a-kind energy adopts an enhanced grandeur during the holidays. Visiting the city during this time was a tradition of my childhood, but in 1995 a new twist on this life-long custom materialized in my life—Phish at Madison Square Garden.

Ever since 1995, the week following Christmas has been all about Phish. Aside from the few years they weren’t together, the emotional high of Christmas was bridged by just enough time to exhale, pack and travel to the holiday shows—an even higher emotional peak. The New Year’s Run has been every bit a part of my year-end ritual as the holidays, themselves, for as long as I can remember. This rite began when I was twenty years old, as Phish was cresting the tsunami that was 1995. I can still recall the sense of awe and wonder at the spectacle and experience that was Phish at Madison Square Garden in December. It was undeniably and quite obviously a magical combination.

My world had been flipped upside down by my second-ever Phish show in Charleston just a month earlier. I was immediately hooked for life. The MSG shows (I did not go to Worcester) were my sixth and seventh nights with Phish. I still have the journal in which I recorded my feelings as a college junior trying to find my place in the world after my first of eighteen New Year’s with the band.

1/1/96: (After staying up all night and taking the train home my parents in the morning.)

After such a euphoric weekend filled with fun and emotions and experiences, how am I supposed to just experience it and let it go? I’ve never felt like I did this weekend. Saturday night was the most emotional, spiritual and purely good experience I’ve ever had. [My friend] put it right when she said that you just get a feeling that is indescribable where you are so sure about something and just know that is what it is all about. I love that feeling. It is entrancing. Being at a show is indescribable. At a show there are all these nice people there to just enjoy Phish and enjoy life. “Can I live while I’m young?” I would really like to tour I think. It would have to be during the summer but I don’t know how or with who. Basically, Phish shows are where it’s at for me. I’ve never loved doing something so much. I wish it wasn’t so long until they tour again. But coming from this weekend of pure perfection, joy and love, I was kind of let down today with regular life. I guess that’s sometimes part of the deal. Can’t wait for the next show.

1/8/96: (A week later)

I’ve never experienced such an unbelievable weekend. Between the shows, trips, friends, and the New Year’s atmosphere, I’ve never felt so happy, euphoric, overjoyed and fulfilled in my whole life. The show on the 30^th was perhaps the greatest experience of my life. I’ve never felt so certain about something in my entire life. Everything was right, in place and in tune, and I felt a release, a gratification, an intense cleansing that I’ve never known before. I’ve never felt so emotionally drawn out than at that show. I feel now that I want to go to shows every night! I felt so in tune with everyone, myself, and the world. I’ve never felt so happy to be somewhere with the people I was with. It was heartwarming to be a part of…I could go on writing about how my New Year’s weekend fulfilled every hope and expectation, but words just can’t express what I’m trying to say. I never want to stop going to Phish shows—EVER! I found something I love doing so much and I don’t want to let that go.

The feelings that I felt during those two nights in 1995 have been the same emotions that have imbued every New Year’s Run with Phish at MSG. The final four calendar days of the year, Phish and New York City combine to form an enchanting cocktail. They go together, they are made for each other. They define and delineate the passage of time. They are the clockwork of life.

These past two years, as Covid has taken this ritual away, these days feel depressing and aimless for me. I feel lost.

I guess it is normal to have a post-holiday crash, but I’ve never experienced that in my life until 2020 thanks to Phish. I was too young before ’95 to even have emotions like that, and ever since, Phish has been there to catch my post-holiday self and lift me to the highest planes I know. Despite the crazy year that was 2020, this wayward feeling is even more pronounced this year. We were all but there. We had flights, tickets, and plans. We were going back to the Garden. It was all happening again. And then it wasn’t. And now…here we are.

Those four days in April, should they come to pass, will be fun and exciting in a totally different way. But they won’t be December Phish. They won’t invoke the feelings of a New Year’s Run. They are hardly a consolation prize for this ritual denied. There is something special in the numbers 12/28, 12/29, 12/30 and 12/31. They are the most meaningful days of the Phish calendar, the calendar with which so many of us synchronize our lives. And we are now forced to wait another 365 days to see if next year will bring the year-end revelry we so dearly long for.

But what’s in a number?

The 28^th—Everyone is back together again. Whether it was only a couple weeks apart, like 1995 or 1997, or several months, like 2017, the community is whole again. Everyone is filled with cheer, surfing the coattails of the holiday season as we congregate in New York for our own high holidays—the most spiritually charged days of the year. The band gets back to business, sometimes reacclimating to the stage (as in 2013 or 2018), and sometimes doing a whole lot more (as in 1998, which stands alone on this mantle, or 2012, and 2017). Everyone gets back into the groove and settles in for the four-night extravaganza. We are home for the holidays.

The 29^th—This is most often where things get serious. The band has reconnected, we all have a night under our belts, and everyone is ready to dive a bit deeper. Some of the most stellar nights of December Phish have come on the 29^th—1994, 1996, 1997, 1998, and 2013 jump right to mind. This night often felt like the most significant of the four during the 1.0 era. The ante is upped on the 29^th, and whether or not the Phish delivers a fully fleshed out show on night two, at the very minimum we head home with some profound jams. The momentum of the run builds; we are only halfway through.

The 30^th—This is the high holy day of the modern Phish calendar. This is the night of myth-making. This is the date that has consistently delivered the most profound experiences of 3.0-era New Year’s Runs. The 1993, 1994, and 1997 editions hold esteemed places in Phish lore, but in recent years, 2012, 2016, 2017, 2018 and 2019 all hold up as the standout shows from their respective runs. The band has recently made a point of throwing down the gauntlet on the night before New Years. With a huge production and all-out party on the horizon for New Year’s Eve, this is the final night that is solely about the music. And it has showed. While the anticipation for New Year’s Eve is now palpable, this night remains anchored in the depths of musical adventure.

The 31^st—The peak, the zenith, the top of the mountain—call it what you will, New Year’s Eve is the crown jewel of the run. There exists a feeling in the air on 12/31 unlike any other night of the year. It is a celebration, a rite of passage, a cleansing. We are throwing off the old and embracing the new, all through the prism of a three-set experience. Most often, the heaviest music comes in set two while the spectacle takes place in set three as midnight approaches. But sometimes these shows transform into utter blowouts a la 1995, 1998 and 2015. Many of these shows can simply be referenced by their monumental third-set productions—the Meatstick night, the JEMP truck night, the Hourglass night, the Big Boat night; the list goes on and on. And when the encore ends, we are launched into the next year filled with inspiration and excitement, riding the wave of an exhilarating four nights in our sacred space. All is good in the world, for how can it be bad? The post-run glow is stronger than after any other shows of the year, for we have once again turned the pages of our lives with Phish coloring our technicolor dreamscape.

But not this year.

Sure, it’s cool they are putting together a webcast. I appreciate the effort and the care they are showing to their community who has had their time-traversing carpet pulled from under their feet. They didn’t have to do this. And perhaps it will be something totally new and unique, but needless to say, it won’t be the same. The feelings I’ve been describing won’t be there, for a TV screen is a sterile medium that can’t communicate something visceral and mystical. The emotions and depth of experience just don’t translate. But knowing Phish, they will put together something special.

For me—and I know for so many of you—these days are missing. They are empty. They are rudderless. For the second year in a row I am left trying to fill the time when my heart is in another place altogether—a place that, for the moment, does not exist. I am grateful that we have been able to share such an incredible year with Phish in the face of so much uncertainty, for a year ago, I could not have imagined the shows that have transpired throughout 2021. But the New Year’s Run was supposed to be the cherry on top, the true return to normalcy—our homecoming. Now we can only dream of those four special nights in that round church of Midtown Manhattan. I miss the music, I miss the people, I miss the energy, I miss the magic. I miss that feeling.

In just a few days, the date will read 2022, but will time have even passed? I know I won’t feel the same. But we must be thankful for all we do have and know that at some point, we will return to that hallowed space marked by the final four days of the calendar. But in truth, those days are so much more—a timeless portal that guides us through the chapters of our existence.

Phish has made a career out of one-upping themselves time and time over, and with Sci-Fi Solidier, they just did it again. To close a mind-bending fall tour, the band performed their most ambitious, multi-faceted and outright brilliant Halloween set of their lives. Sci-Fi Soldier is a work of utter genius—a profound piece of spiritual philosophy wrapped in the band’s irresistible humor and drool-worthy grooves—that delivers on multiple levels and represents the greatest piece of concept-driven art that the Vermont quartet has ever laid down.

The cohesive, set-long suite simultaneously hits as shock value comedy, science fiction adventure, and spiritual Truth. Though this work of art can be met on multiple levels of enjoyment, it can only be wholly appreciated when understood in its deepest intention. Woven into Sci-Fi Soldier’s comedy-laced adventure lays a spiritual philosophy that in terms of its story—and reality—can save the world.

In a production in which every detail was calculated, the comic book that Phish distributed before the show serves as a crucial accompaniment to the set’s trajectory, as it provides a road map of Halloween’s musical, lyrical and philosophical journey.

Central to the plot is the quantum theory of parallel, coexisting realities expressed through the metaphor of the Nine Cubes. The quantum field contains every possible version of reality, and which version is energetically attracted determines what comes to fruition in humans’ earth-based experience. When the sci-fi soldiers look into the Nine Cubes, they see Earth, “the homeworld of their beloved prophets,” Kasvot Vaxt, “tearing itself apart.” When confronted with the knowledge of Earth’s destruction, they are determined affect an alternate reality and save the planet.

The super heroes look to the “only entity wise enough to interpret what [they’ve] seen,” the oracle, Holy Blankenstein. The oracle explains that Earth has been destructed by “forces of the human’s own making;” a plague called “The Howling” was caused by all the thinking of the human race. Blankenstein instructs the sci-fi soldiers to time-travel back to Earth before its ruin and find a way to “put a blank space where [humans’] mind should be,” or in other words, get human beings to transcend the realm of thought and live in their true state of unitary consciousness in order to return the planet to balance.

Holy Blankenstein, whose name overtly connects to the sacred state of non-thought that is central to the story’s philosophy, illustrates one methodology to accomplish this goal through the creatures that inhabit his planet. He explains, “These creatures keep their brains in their knees. They clear their minds with the movement of dance and handstands in grand fashion. We can learn much from them. Clear your mind.” It is through this example that the metaphor “un-head the knee” is born. This term, while literally referring to the creatures clearing their knee-based minds through dance, is a clever figure of speech to describe the process of stilling the thinking mind in order to move beyond thought, itself, and live in pure awareness of Truth, the Oneness of all living beings.

Through Blankenstein’s dialectic and the example of their prophets, Kasvot Vaxt, who “used music from their album I Rokk to travel the galaxy and share their teachings,” the sci-fi soldiers settle on a path of action. By playing music to get humans to dance, they will “put a blank space where their mind should be” and influence the human race to “un-head the knee,” or transcend the dimension of thought. If humans “get more down” and, hence, “clear their minds,” they will experience “The Unwinding”—the deconstruction of the illusion of separateness—enter their authentic state of pure consciousness and live the spiritual Truth of Oneness. These existential tenets echo spiritual sages throughout the history of mankind, and the way Phish integrates these ideas within their musical-comedic masterpiece is beyond genius and exemplifies why they are, quite literally, one of a kind.

Before he vanishes, Blankenstein leaves the soldiers with a cryptic number— 10/31/21, “likely an inflection point where the past and the future are precisely divided.” In preparing to time-travel back to earth on this date—fifty years before The Howling takes hold—and inhabit the bodies of their prophets, Kasvot Vaxt, the comic book heroes quickly realize that the Scandinavian band has been long gone from the planet by this time. But they find a connection to a band called Phish who “know how to play the music of the prophets,” and they decide that they will have to settle on a plan B. The sci-fi soldiers will inhabit Phish’s bodies on Halloween 2021 to influence humankind to see through the illusions of thought and separateness in order to save the planet. The music of the Halloween performance flows from there.

The way in which Phish integrates their hallowed 2018 Kasvot Vaxt set into Sci-Fi Soldier is a masterstroke. Nodding to their last Halloween show while weaving its story into an even more ambitious and complex performance ties together Phish’s past, present and future. In co-opting the former story into this one, they also recognize their career as a continuum and not simply one separate chapter after another.

But what about the music? Well…every single Sci-Fi Soldier song is absolutely fucking incredible. The set is beyond cohesive, a flowing artistic suite from beginning to end. The songs not only carry forth the sci-fi adventure narrative, they also craft a non-stop dance party strewn with deep Phish grooves from start to finish. This was the Halloween set of dreams—a conceptual masterpiece with riveting music that is laced with comedy and framed in a visually hypnotic production. What more can one ask for? Sci-Fi Soldier is absolute, one hundred percent Phish perfection.

The band musically riffs off the established narrative laid down in the comic book to form the songs of the Sci-Fi Soldier set. Most of the songs clearly reference parts of the story, while a few are more opaquely connected. Musically speaking, assuming they continue to play these songs, Phish immediately infused their catalog with a plethora of potential launch pads, as they could take any one of these songs off the deep end. Most of them are thoroughly groove-based—several structured around simple vamps—and feel more open-ended then past Halloween originals. Though they form a more unified whole than any group of Halloween songs to date, it would not be surprising to see them take prominent roles in the band’s live shows immediately.

As the set kicks off with “Knuckle Bone Broth Avenue”—the name of the time-stream the sci-fi soldiers use to travel back to Earth—and “Get More Down”—the overarching instructions from the futuristic saviors to humankind—the rhythmic, dance-based focus of the set becomes immediately apparent. “Egg in a Hole” brings a heavier psych-metal vibe to the set as the soldiers speak of their journey to New Chicago to see the oracle, Blankenstein. “Thanksgiving” is a dose of self-referential groove-comedy in which Sci-Fi Soldier sings about Phish, often repurposing their exact lyrics, which becomes a pattern throughout the set. The refrain of “It’s a shame about the blood” may reference the effects of the Howling if the course of time is not altered by Sci-Fi Solider’s Las Vegas performance.

The overarching theme of the set—Truth beyond thought—comes front and center in “Clear Your Mind.” Trey, as Clueless Wallob, tells the audience that this song is very important on Sci-Fi Soldier’s home planet, and that he hopes they will heed its message. With this invocation, he brings the spiritual instructions of the comic book plot to life, asking the audience to clear their mind in order to see the Truth of their unified and limitless existence. This suggestion, though anchored in the fictional narrative, is completely in line with the lyrical motifs of so many of Trey’s modern, spiritually centered compositions. Here is where fiction and reality intersect, as this belief of moving beyond humans’ obsession with thought can simultaneously save both versions—fictional and actual—of 2021’s Earth-in-peril.

The instrumental of “The 9^th Cube” references the quantum model of parallel worlds and how the Sci-Fi soldiers were able to perceive Earth’s destruction and choose a different reality in which they save the planet. This piece hearkens back to a classic Phish sound, as its intricate twists and turns veer from the looser groove-based structures of the songs that precede it.

‘The Inner Reaches of Outer” combines lyrical wordplay with a Brian Eno-inspired sound to craft one of the more delicate and enchanting songs of the set. The inner reaches of outer may be a metaphor for the paradoxical and dualistic nature of human beings—that the deepest part of the individual self is, in fact, nothingness, and part of the greater whole of existence. This idea is also reflected when Blankenstein appears to the soldiers in both “being and not being.”

The conceptual apex of the set comes in the pairing of “Don’t Doubt Me” and “The Unwinding.” “Don’t Doubt Me” conveys the perspective of Holy Blankenstein, while doubling as an exhortation from Clueless Wallob to the Halloween audience. Both the music and the lyrical command to “Un-head the knee!” grow in intensity throughout the set’s centerpiece reaching a furious climax. A passage deep into the piece’s mounting peak brings the set’s theme to a head—

There’s nowhere to be
A far off white light hanging over me
But nothing is changing in the silent cold
Is it lonely?
Is it lonely?
Is it lonely?
Is it lonely?
Not if you un-head the knee!
Is it lonely?
Not if you un-head the knee,
Because then YOU become WE
When you un-head the knee.
Holy Blankenstein!

When the ego-driven obsession with thought is released and one moves beyond the thinking mind into pure consciousness, the illusion of the individual dissolves into the Truth of Oneness—“YOU become WE when you un-head the knee.” Holy Blankenstein, indeed. This is the crux of the set’s philosophy and how Earth is saved.

“The Unwinding,” which follows “Don’t Doubt Me,” represents the dissolution of this illusion. The individual moves through an unwinding of programmed thought and action when they are awakened to the Truth of their connected, unified and infinite existence. No longer is one burdened by the false constructs of self and other, and the experience of life becomes one of harmony and grace. The tranquil quality of this composition as juxtaposed to the intensity of “Don’t Doubt Me” illustrates this transition into human’s natural state of being. Tangentially, the band could really take this song into deep, abstract places as hinted at in this version.

The subsequent track, “Something Living Here” may very well also connect to this transitional process, representing the last vestiges of the dying ego. The repeated line “I twist humor to exist, and, no, I never asked for this” seems to speak from the deconstructed ego trying to hang on in the face of Truth that spells its oblivion. The line “Stuck in the waiting room and I want to go in” might speak to the individual’s natural desire to transcend itself versus the grasp of the egoic mind holding on for survival.

The narrative resolution of the set comes in the penultimate piece—“The Howling.” This revelrous throwdown serves as a celebration of a mission accomplished—the Earth has been saved and The Howling has been averted. The lyric “The Howling—Now it’s starting to feel good!” reveals that the sci-fi soldiers have affected a new reality in which humankind will live as One and the plague of thinking has been cured. Carrying a dance-floor-incinerating “2001”-esque groove, this track seems like it could serve as a staple in Phish’s live repertoire moving forward.

The set concludes in very Phishy fashion with the almost-a-cappella song “I Am In Miami,” as the futuristic band sings of their return to their home planet of New Miami. Filled with clever wordplay and humor, this piece provides a perfect landing point for the deep, set-long journey through the outer reaches of the galaxy.

Unbeknownst to anyone, the music of 2021 has been pointing to the Halloween set since day one. Trey’s new guitar tones, Page’s synthesizers, Fishman’s voice samples—these were all stylistic building blocks of Sci-Fi Soldier’s sound, and Phish, simultaneously, used these elements to reinvent its post-pandemic sonic path. The creation of the set and the preparation for its performance pushed the band outside of their conventions and served at a catalyst for Phish’s most adventurous and successful year in a long, long time. In fact, this past fall tour is my personal favorite run of Phish since the late-‘90’s, but that’s another conversation for another day.

When the lights came up after the Halloween set I was in sheer disbelief. My first thought was, “That was the greatest thing of all-time.” Now, several weeks and many re-listens later, that thought has not changed one iota. It was, in fact, the greatest thing of all-time. Integrating every element of Phish’s artistic genius into a unified and fully realized, conceptual package, the Sci-Fi Soldier set marks a new creative high point for the ever-evolving, humanoid phenoms. The band met the moment with comprehensive mastery, flawlessly showcasing their multilayered production despite the countless variables within live music and performance art. But beneath the amazing music, persistent comedy, and visual effects of Sci Fi Soldier, there exists beautiful and universal Truth, Truth that both bands—fictional and real—hope we, their audience, will heed. Through an elaborate science fiction framework, Phish elegantly constructs a spiritual allegory, breaking new conceptual ground with their Halloween creation. The result was truly something to behold—an unparalleled performance that will go down in Phish lore and be talked about until 4680 and beyond.

 

The ethos of Phish music has always been connected to the divine. Trey has spoken at length throughout his career about attaining a musical proficiency in which the band can get out of the way and become invisible, allowing the music to pass through them and speak for itself. In a 1994 interview with Steve Silberman, he explained this point of view:

The way I look at it is like being a filter. The music exists in the universe, and if you’re lucky enough, or strong enough, to get your ego out of the way, the music comes through you. The audience that we have is open to that. They understand that conversational transfer of energy. Their being open to it makes it easier for the energy to pass through.

This dynamic has provided Phish and their fans countless spiritual experiences over the past 38 years. It is this very magic that motivates us to go to so many shows—the feeling of transcending ourselves and tapping into mysteries far bigger that any one of us. These experiences provide the goosebumps when thinking back on those powerful moments that have colored our lives so vibrantly for so many years.

I could create an endless laundry list of these special instances, but Sunday night took things to an entirely different level. Though ritual is part and parcel of the Phish experience, the solemn rite they invoked in Sunday’s second set cut to the core of life and eternal existence. What took place was profound beyond words, but language is our medium of communication, so I will attempt to use words to point to the truth that unfolded.

As everyone knows by now, towards the end of Sunday’s first set a man jumped from the upper deck at Chase Center and fell over a 100 feet to his death. Some saw it happen, some found out at setbreak, and others not until after the show. I found out at setbreak—about ten minutes before the show was set to resume. Naturally, it shook me up. First I was startled, then I was scared, and then I was sad. I wasn’t sure what to make of such a tragedy amidst a place of pure joy. But Phish was about to step on the stage. What was even going to happen? What was supposed to happen? I had no idea. I felt confused. But I decided that my only choice was to embrace the reality of what transpired, let go, and give myself over completely to the experience of what was to come.

As the lights dropped, the band opened with “Evolve,” Trey’s pandemic-scribed composition that details the beginning of time and the creation of the universe. Told from the perspective of the divine creator, the lyrical couplet that concludes the song details the entrance of human beings into the cosmos and their struggle with earthly entanglements that are ultimately insignificant in the face of the eternal truth—

Then came the people with problems and hope
That don’t mean a thing, if they just knew the scope.

Interesting.

Upon the conclusion of the song, Trey started up “Set Your Soul Free,” a song about the spiritual unity of all beings and the liberation of the soul from the body. As this jam progressed, it moved from an upbeat space to a dark, heavy and abstract sonic realm. In my silent and thoughtless meditative state, an understanding emerged from within—this music represented the transitional, intermediary state that souls navigate between this dimension of life and the next dimension of existence after death. All faiths describe this liminal stage in different ways—Buddhists speak of the Bardo, Islam calls it Barzakh, Christianity espouses Purgatory. This complex and amorphous musical path narrated the transmigration of Sunday’s departed soul as it passed through the realm between worlds moving towards the hereafter.

The band came out of this incredibly deep musical passage into “Wingsuit,” a metaphor for the soul’s elevation out of the Bardo and into eternity.

Nothing lasts, nothing stays…
What’s old is gone…

And gliding away, you fly where you choose
There’s nothing to say and nothing to lose.

These words describe the ephemeral nature of life on earth and the truth of the beyond. There is nothing to lose—we are infinite beings whose consciousness exits in human form for only a brief blip of time and upon transitioning, re-merges with the One energy from which we all came. This staggeringly powerful rendition of “Wingsuit” musically ushered the departed soul from this realm into the next. Encompassed in awe at the sacrament at hand, I was brought to the brink of tears by the moment’s undeniable consecration as Phish transformed tragedy into ceremony.

Upon the soul’s elevation into eternity, the band broke into “Chalk Dust Torture,” a song in which the lyrical refrain of “Can’t I live while I’m young?” celebrates the very essence of life itself. And where the band took this jam provided the final step on the soul’s transitional arc. The music built into an extended, celebratory and uplifting excursion that depicted the arrival of the departed soul into the never-ending bliss of infinite existence—or in western terms—heaven. The heaviness of this set-long metaphysical journey arrived in deliverance—a liberation into the dimension of purity and truth, our eternal home steeped in serenity and wonder.

The mystic communion that transpired during Sunday night’s set was on an entirely different level than anything that has ever happened at a Phish show. This was so much more than music. This was about divine light that lives within us all. This light is what the essence of Phish has always been about, but never had it come so face to face with an actual event in which a soul moved through the stages of existence in the presence of, and to the knowledge of, the band and so many in attendance. With their performance, Phish musically communed with the departed soul present in the room, shepherding it on its inter-dimensional journey into infinity.

Death is a sad occurrence on the earthly plane because no longer can people enjoy that particular soul in human form. But death is also the most beautiful part of life—a soul’s transition into everlasting bliss. Phish’s willingness to embrace a tragedy and take part in this transcendental process was the most awe-inspiring event I have witnessed, and it brought my esteem for the band and their role as conduits between us and the divine into a whole new domain of reverence.

That was a complete fucking blowout. Phish dropped the gauntlet on Sunday night in AC, staging a two-set musical showcase that put a indelible exclamation point on their first tour since Fall 2019. Carrying serious momentum from note one and strewn with improv from start to finish, Sunday night’s show was truly a night to remember. Played with purpose with two beautifully flowing sets of music, the tour closer on the beach illustrated what can happen when all the elements of a show fall into place. This night brought a crescendo to the weekend in in the beach, as Phish appears to be in a superb place as they look towards a brief leg two of summer and a longer fall tour down the road.

The centerpiece of Sunday’s show was the exquisitely flowing fifty-minute suite that kicked off the second set—“Carini > Set Your Soul Free > Beneath a Sea of Stars > Piper -> Carini.” The improv within these jams naturally moved from one to another, covering a vast amount of diverse musical ground. “Carini’s” jam ignited this run with a soaring trajectory, quickly modulating into an uplifting and celebratory plane. The interplay of Trey’s clean, sky-scraping melodies and Page’s triumphant grand piano work led Phish through this promised land. Following its peak, Trey smoothly switched guitar tones, and the rest of the band seamlessly followed him into a more modern section of music characterized by their Summer ’21 sound.

 “Set Your Soul Free” featured shreddy, atonal guitar leads laid over a swing beat from Fishman, that created a musical juxtaposition with the mellifluous “Carini” jam. Phish deconstructed the second piece of this improvisational puzzle towards its end, blending its quiet conclusion into “Beneath a Sea of Stars.” Throughout their career, Phish has always been masters at playing to their environment and this selection provided a lustrous example of this phenomenon. The delicate centerpiece of  Trey’s “Ghosts of the Forest” project fit perfectly on the beach, and even its lyrics, “The lights are flashing and the waves are crashing” depicted the boardwalk and the ocean that lined the two sides of the venue. This gentle passage provided a mellow interlude in the larger musical statement while keeping the improvisational vibes flowing.

However, the most forward-looking highlight of this extended combination began as Phish melted from “Sea of Stars” into “Piper.” Quickly building out of the song’s lyrical opening, the band crafted a high-intensity excursion into a dark, avant-garde frontier. This piece represents experimental Phish at its finest. Peppered with modern tones from Trey, Mike and Page, the jam was driven by Fishman’s uptempo, crash-cymbal-heavy rhythms. But when he subtly slipped into a groove adding a backbeat to his work, the music transformed into some abstract, psychotic Phish grooves—inject this stuff into my veins! The band wrapped up this musical package when Trey smoothly offered the “Carini” lick into this menacing mixture, and the band smoothly segued back into the set opener, completing a spectacular run of a multi-stage musical drama.

Phish continued with “Waves,” the third ocean-themed song in a row, but arguably added one too many songs to the end of the set, wedging “Simple” and “About to Run” in before “First Tube” closed the frame with vibes on high. Perhaps they could have eliminated “About to Run” and jammed “Waves” into “Simple,” adding a bit more cohesion to the back end of the set, but even as it stood, it was all but perfect.

And nothing could be finer than a “Fluffhead” encore, a choice that encapsulated the feeling of the entire evening.

Once again, the band absolutely crushed the opening set of the show, a trend of which I just can’t get enough. It seemed as though Trey wanted a d0-over for Saturday night’s botched version as he started the intro to “Scents and Subtle Sounds,” but as the song hit a point of transition, he faked everyone out by splashing into “Moma Dance,” immediately electrifying the show. Extending the funk number into an earnest, out-of-structure improvisation, Phish had clearly come to play in their concluding show of tour. “Moma’s” jam segued into “The Final Hurrah, before a nasty, mid-set “Mike’s Song” brought the second legitimate highlight of the night. This trio of songs comprised almost 35 minutes of standout, dance-based Phish‚ and the show had just started. And to close out this monster opening frame—”You Enjoy Myself.” A dead mint first set through and through.

I really hope that this Atlantic City beach party becomes a bi-annual affair, as the set up is just perfect and very hassle free. The sound is great throughout the massive venue and it seems that everyone found a spot that they liked. It really worked out great from all aspects.

And thus concludes leg one of Summer 2021. What a run it has been! When Phish announced this summer tour, I really hoped they would come out with a new sound to their improvisation. I had felt that 2019 had grown somewhat stagnant and they needed some sort of sonic shift to keep things moving forward—and, boy, did they bring one! The band sounds refreshed and rejuvenated from their forced time off and the rest of the year—pandemic provided—looks to contain quite a lot of musical adventure. Phish is back to pushing the envelope with fresh-sounding jams and breaking ground with experimental interplay—and this, my friends, is how we like IT.

I. The Landlady, Scents and Subtle Sounds > The Moma Dance > The Final Hurrah,  Mike’s Song > I Am Hydrogen > Weekapaug Groove, The Sloth, Roggae, Back on the Train, You Enjoy Myself

II. Carini > Set Your Soul Free > Beneath a Sea of Stars Part 1 > Piper -> Carini, Waves > Simple > About to Run, First Tube

E. Fluffhead, Backwards Down the Number Line

Atlantic City has been a destination point for Phish throughout the 3.0 era. From Boardwalk Hall to Bader Field, from “Waiting For Columbus” to “Wingsuit,” the Jersey Shore has hosted its fair share of historic music from the Vermont quartet over the past decade. As the band descended upon A.C. to close out the opening leg of a torrid summer tour, one had to expect that another storied chapter of Boardwalk Phish would ensue.

Though part one of the weekend trifecta shaped up as a strong two-set affair, popping with highlights from start to finish, the lead actor in Friday night’s musical drama was unquestionably the multi-dimensional “Tweezer” that ignited set two in a blaze of glory. This jam touched on so many facets of the band’s musical repertoire, that when assembled as a single piece of music, it created quite a voyage through the galaxy of Phish. However, I have to highlight the journey’s initial section. The band laid waaay back as they dropped into the jam, creating an epically gooey, open air soundscape that I would pay good money to reside in. Fish and Mike lock into a filthy, spacious groove as Trey and Page slowly drip in sonic layers like food coloring slowly spinning into a glass of water. This section—before Trey even plays a lead melody—is the stuff of my Phish dreams. And then when Trey slides into the mix with perfectly calculating leads in his menacing, new-school tone—forget about it. Lemme mainline this shit forever.

“Tweezer’s” jam next progresses through a more conventional, blues-based build which Page continually pushes forward with his Summer ’21 lead synth melodies en route to third movement that brings the jam into quintessential, bliss-drenched Phish groove. At this juncture, Trey drops his modern effects and leads the troops to the top with gorgeous, dextrous soloing, thus completing a truly monumental version of the band’s most revered launchpad.

“Bathtub Gin” provided a strong follow up to “Tweezer’s” set-opening opus, forging a classic-sounding path of upbeat groove collaboration. This jam stretched the song’s boundaries just enough to create a gripping second act of the set. When the the band revved up “Everything’s Right,” it felt like we were on the verge of an epic stanza of music, but as the jam was developing a mesmerizing path, Trey had the out-of-left-field thought that “Possum” should be played right then and there. And so it was. And from that point forward, the set devolved into a hodgepodge of Phish songs that didn’t possess the flow that characterized the rest of the show.

Phish came out swinging to open the night with a high-energy, dance-based first set that was highlighted by the improvisational one-two punch of “Blaze On” and “Wolfman’s Brother.” Both of these jams popped significantly, “Blaze” moving out of structure into open waters while “Wolfman’s” remained anchored in infectious dance rhythms. Providing a near half-hour of top notch jamming at the onset of set one, this song pairing got the weekend underway quickly an illustrated both enthusiasm and intent on Phish’s behalf.

With one show down and two to go, I suspect the Atlantic City set we will be the buzz of the weekend is yet to unfold. As Phish settles into their novel beach environs, their comfort level will only increase, and if tonight’s “Tweezer” is any indication, there are a lot of Atlantic City memories left to be written.

I. Cars Trucks Buses, AC/DC Bag, Blaze On, Wolfman’s Brother, I Didn’t Know, Funky Bitch, Rift, Sand

II. Tweezer, Bathtub Gin > Everything’s Right > Possum, Also Sprach Zarathustra > Rise/Come Together, Harry Hood, More

E. Loving Cup

It was one of those nights. As if lifted from a fantasy, Phish played an impeccable show from start to finish dropping two sets drenched with improv that were each experiences unto themselves. It is very rare that the band comes out from note one and never lets up for the duration of an entire concert, but that is exactly what happened in Hershey tonight. Perfection is elusive in any human endeavor, especially one with so many variables as live improvisational music, but dare I say, that show was perfect.

It did not take long to realize that Phish meant business tonight. The opener of “You Sexy Thing” set the tone, but what delivered the message loud and clear was the astounding run of jams that followed. Significant takes on “Wombat,” “Free,” and “A Song I Heard the Ocean Sing” set up the unquestionable highlight of the first half in “Halley’s Comet.” “Halley’s” jams have become the white whale of the modern era, and tonight Phish dropped an all-timer, easily the most significant version in over two decades. The jam did not take long to launch into uncharted waters, as the entire band cohered in an incredible groove session that smoothly modulated into a blissful plane and absolutely took off in some of the most gorgeous and spiritually uplifting music of the summer.

The band followed up this extraordinary excursion with the debut of Trey’s “Lonley Trip,” a song I immediately fell in love with when it was released during the pandemic. I couldn’t wait for Phish to incorporate it into their repertoire and it, frankly, it was amazing. The delicate and introspective ballad worked especially well juxtaposed with the uptempo improv that surrounded it. The non-stop set concluded with on point versions of “Jibboo,” “Meat,” and “Maze,” which bled into a brief reprise of “You Sexy Thing.” When the band finally came up for air, the set was over and the crowd was left astonished at what had just gone down. And the story of the night had only half been told.

A colossal version of “Birds of a Feather” anchored the first half of set two in which Trey put on a jaw-dropping clinic in guitar tone. As if Merlin paging through an endless tome of guitar sorcery, Trey led this jam with playing that progressed through a myriad of mesmerizing sounds. Page complimented Trey’s outstanding work by weaving in his own arsenal of sonic color while Mike simultaneously synced up with both of them offering dynamic, shape-shifting bass lines. Fishman’s intricate rhythms gave the jam a breakbeat vibe which kept the intensity cranked up for its duration, completing the equation of a thoroughly experimental Phish jam.

Following an interlude of “Bug,” the second half of the set ignited with a fully locked “Light” jam that saw the band playing off each other subconsciously, moving as a single entity through a passage that seemed bound for big things. Instead, however, Trey opted to layer the “Party Time” lyrics over the groove in what has become a common segue over the past several years. The vibe stayed high as the band concluded this sequence and dropped into “Ruby Waves.”

Phish capped the night’s improv with a patiently building, emotionally reflective and rhythmically shimmering version of the “Ghosts of the Forest” crossover. Trey brought this piece to a climactic and rolling peak with emotive guitar theatrics that tied a bow on an astounding night of Phish jamming. “Chalkdust” would provide the cherry on top of a spectacular set of music.

During the encore of “Show of Life,” I was flooded with awe, surrounded by an extended crew of friends filling the spacious dance floor. It is peak nights like these, in which every aspect of the experience falls into place, that makes me step back and truly appreciate the the path we have traveled over so many years. I am eternally grateful that we have all found each other in this time, place and dimension and have been able to share in something so special for so long. It is like nothing else I know, and I can’t imagine life without it.

I. You Sexy Thing, Wombat, Free, A Song I Heard the Ocean Sing, Halley’s Comet > Lonely Trip, Gotta Jibboo, Meat, Maze

II. Theme From the Bottom, Birds of a Feather, Bug, Light -> Party Time > Ruby Waves > Chalk Dust Torture

E. Show of Life, Say It To Me S.A.N.T.O.S.

Coming off a blistering weekend at Deer Creek, Phish landed for a midweek show in Hershey, Pennsylvania, a routing that brought back fond memories of Summer ’96 as the band worked their way across the country up to Plattsburgh, New York for their first-ever festival of the Clifford Ball. Twenty-five years later, tour ends a bit more south in Atlantic City, but the shows in Hershey represent a similar midpoint between two more high-key weekends. In ’96, the band crushed a criminally underrated show in Hersheypark Stadium, and based on the way the band has been playing this summer, everyone had high hopes for the band’s return to Chocolate Town, USA.

The show kicked off with the high-energy couplet of “First Tube” and “Axilla,” a pairing that was promptly followed up by the improvisational highlight of the first set in “Fuego.” The band built a slow and ominous jam from the song that lasted just long enough to satisfy before leading into “Runaway Jim.” The first set as a whole was highly enjoyable and flowed quite well with great song selection. I particularly dug the version of “Death Don’t Hurt Very Long” which featured more improv than usual and which set up a groovy, albeit brief, set-closing “Antelope.”

The second set featured two standout jams that had  markedly different feels to them. The set opening “No Man’s” expanded into an impressionistic experiment in soundscapes laced with a heavy amount of effects and tonal colors. Fishman’s drumming stood out in this excursion, as his driving rhythms anchored the direction of the band while Page and Trey used wide brush strokes to create varying textures over top. The subsequent jam in “Soul Planet,” my favorite of the night, had a much more directional quality. Led by Trey’s stellar lead playing, this piece was plot-driven with a clear progression of mini-movements that brought the listener on a complete journey before concluding with a seamless segue into “NICU.” Both of these jams were ultimately successful, but represented two very different improvisational approaches.

A mid-set version of “Joy” felt like it would bisect the stanza’s improvisational jaunts, but following the ballad, Trey, instead, decided to take the show on a song-based route. Everything was certainly well-played, but there was nothing of note to write home about. Many years ago, this type of turn in the second set might have soured me on the show, but I have reached a point in my Phish-going life where I simply enjoy whatever is presented each night to the fullest. As a wise man once said, “Ain’t no time to hate, barely time to wait…”

Throughout their history, Phish has always had a penchant for crushing shows that directly precede hyped destination weekends. They also have had propensity to follow up lighter shows with far heavier affairs. So considering both of these factors, be on the lookout for a heater tomorrow!

Phish is a protean music force whose creative genius is delivered in countless ways and in all shapes and sizes. For Deer Creek’s Sunday night finale, Phish applied their improvisational acumen over the course of the entire second set, crafting a unified musical statement that combined serious musicianship, trademark humor and a liquid flow. Seamlessly weaving one song into another with a couple of mashups along the way, the band creating a non-stop journey through the multiverse of Phish. Though the second set was underlined by fun, the music still got quite deep at several points, illustrating the yin and yang of a band that feels unstoppable right now.

A neon-futuristic dance club take on “Bathtub Gin” got the party started quickly after setbreak, as the band undertook an exercise in collaborative groove painted with their new-era sonic palette. As the jam approached the precipice of an ambient movement, instead it dissolved into “Waves.” A super thick groove emerged out of the post-hiatus piece, over which Trey spontaneously began singing the lyrics of “Ghost.” This slowed down, gooey take on the song seemed primed to launch into massive highlight, but at the break in the song before the jam, the band switched directly into the opening hit of “Sneaking Sally,” and this is where the zany mashup madness that would characterize the set began. Singing “Ghost” lyrics over a hyrbid “Ghost”-“Sally” groove the band, essentially, played two songs at once, reeling in an enraptured audience on their edge of their seats to see what would come next.

The deepest parts of the set came next, within a short but hypnotic ambient jam out of “Twenty Years Later,” and an absolutely menacing improvisational passage that emerged out of a late-set medley of “Twist” and “Makisupa.” Following Trey’s one man comedy act in “Makisupa” in which he created a lyrical mashup from all the songs in the set, the band took a left turn into the netherworld, building a dark and harrowing excursion that sounded like a summoning of demons and dark spirits of the occult. The abrupt change of vibe provided serious musical gravity to a lighter set of thoroughly entertaining hijinks-based Phish.

Sometimes when Phish rely on antics and comedy to carry a show, the musical experience can fall flat, but that was not the case on Sunday night, where the band’s musicianship and creativity remained on high throughout the show. The whole second set really felt like one piece of music from “Bathtub Gin” through the end of “Twist,” as the band never stopped playing and everything blended together seamlessly. And when they finally did stop to the roaring adoration of their audience, the band broke out a real treat in the Page-scribed rarity of “Most Events Aren’t Planned.” Capping the set with “More” which blended into the end of “Bathtub Gin,” Phish stamped a special set of musical theatre complete.

And while the second set provided the entertaining centerpiece of the night, the first set contained more than few musical highlights—first and foremost in the retro combination of “Curtain” > “Mike’s Song.” “Mike’s” has had a propensity for the generic in recent years, but this version broke the mold completely. As the band chugged through the well-loved jam, Trey and Page hit a point where they started to soar into major key territory. While Mike and Fish continued to hold down the infectious rhythmic pocket of “Mike’s,” Trey and Page took the top half of the jam to a heart-tugging, heavenly realm. This experiment in musical juxtaposition absolutely slayed and provided a slice of uplifting life music as the show had barely begun. From this point, it felt like it was going to be a special night in Phishland. Subsequent first half highlights came in an abbreviated but filthy “Mercury” jam, a funky and interesting new Mike song called “Casual Enlightenment,” and a ripping, on point set closer of “David Bowie.”

To end the night, Phish laid out a phenomenal version of “Slave to the Traffic Light” that summed up the emotional and communally appreciative vibe of the weekend in Indiana. Amidst pre-show rumors of the tour’s imminent cancellation, the crowd soaked up every last drop of Sunday night’s show, as the days of taking this all for granted are over and done. But this buzz seems to have been nothing more than white noise of the ever-churning rumor mill, as tour moves forth to Chocolate City tomorrow night. Hershey has had a small but special place in Phish history, and with Golden Tickets readily available for the undersold shows it certainly feels like the next two nights may add to its lore.

I. Sigma Oasis, The Curtain > Mike’s Song > My Soul, Weekapaug Groove, Mercury > 46 Days, Taste, Casual Enlightenment*, David Bowie

II. Bathtub Gin > Waves -> Ghost > Sneakin’ Sally Through the Alley -> Twenty Years Later -> Waste > Twist -> Makisupa Policeman > Twist -> Makisupa Policeman -> Twist, Most Events Aren’t Planned, More > Bathtub Gin

E. Contact, Slave to the Traffic Light

After playing such a monumental concert on Friday night, one might have expected Phish to come out with a bit more contained affair on Saturday—aka the Saturday night special. But mellow doesn’t seem to be in this band’s vocabulary right now. Instead, they came correct with a Saturday night smoker held down by a well crafted second set that just wouldn’t quit. Flowing with jams of all shapes and styles, Phish displayed the breadth of their musical mastery to a raucous crowd at Deer Creek.

Kicking off the second set, the band dropped a groove leviathan in the form of “Everything’s Right.” After an initial segment that stayed fairly close to the vest, the highlight of this excursion came when Page led the band into into a darker lair that sonically depicted the underground dungeon of Super Mario Brothers. I can’t say enough about Page’s contributions to the improvisational mixture right now. His sounds, textures, and leadership have pushed the band into totally new places this tour, resulting in fresh sounding Phish jams of the likes that we have never heard before. One can find examples of his avant-garde contributions in each show of this summer, and even within every improvisational passage. Combined with Trey’s diverse arsenal of tones and effects, their synergy has been creating futuristic Phish jams. But the future is now.

The band emerged from this underworld into a cleaner improvisational place, finishing the jam with more conventional rock playing in which Trey teased “Simple,” giving a nod to the mind-bender from Friday night. The jam concluded with a sparser funk section that likened a “Moma” groove which bled seamlessly back into the song of “Everything’s Right.”

A vast and spacious take on “What’s the Use?” expanded throughout the amphitheatre, serving as an exhale from the set’s opening fire. This version really struck a chord with me, as the band allowed the music to breathe and swell as if it was its own organic entity. Really stunning stuff here, as the instrumental piece took on an enhanced vitality and provided a level artistry we don’t always see from this piece.

The set revved up again with a vigorous run through “Crosseyed” which featured some high octane playing Trey. His passionate leads drove the band through a triumphant improvisational mid-set frolic, which set up the most creative jam of the night in “Down With Disease.” Following the song’s composed jam, the band locked into a delicate conversation that saw Trey, Page and Mike tossing around ideas like a hot potato. This jam exemplifies one-minded Phish as it’s finest, where their listening and response time is all but non-existent—just a rolling, subconscious flow coming from all directions at once. And then amidst this supernatural exchange, Trey just held a note and the band built an astonishing crescendo around it leaving this audience member in awe.

Although I have focused exclusively on the second set, one of the sublime excursions of the night came in the first in an incandescent version of “Stash.” Phish blew out the borders of the usually structured jam into an awesome improvisational exercise that saw the band in lockstep forming a golden pathway of deliverance. Connecting a section of delicate, melody-driven interplay with one of exhilarating, hard-hitting groove, Phish sculpted the most memorable version of their early ’90s classic in quite some time.

I also wanted to mention the mid-first set coupling of  “Yamar” and “Roggae.” Both rarities were dusted off with particular zest. Trey’s “Yamar” solo really popped with creativity and flow and while his deeply expressive playing in”Roggae” surfed atop an oceanic tide from his bandmates. Both really standout versions.

The energy of Phish feels so pure right now. Perhaps it is that the pandemic has made them realize that nothing can be taken for granted at this point and the rug can be pulled out from under them at any time. It sure seems that they are savoring every moment on stage together and wasting none of them. If the past year and a half has taught us anything, it is that life is fragile, and with the earth continuing to march towards an unknown destiny, the time is now. Phish seems to be living this philosophy, and each and every one of us are blessed to be a part of the equation.

I. Crowd Control, Poor Heart, The Moma Dance, Back on the Train, Army of One, Bouncing Around the Room, Ya Mar, Roggae, A Wave of Hope*, Stash, Cavern

II. Everything’s Right, What’s the Use?, Crosseyed and Painless > What’s the Use? > Down with Disease > Wading in the Velvet Sea, Possum

E. Drift While You’re Sleeping

*debut

Wow. That felt incredible. The modern world of webcasts and audio streams is an amazing luxury to have when you are at home, but there is just no substitute for the live Phish experience. That goes without saying, as it is the basis of what I’ve written about for years. But having been away for so long, I forgot the visceral feeling of the music moving through you—the immersive three-dimensionality that envelops your being. It is the most beautiful experience I know.

But what happened with the band? Well, they dropped an absolutely monstrous show anchored by an all- time jam in “Simple” that immediately became one of my favorite pieces of music that Phish has ever played. The second set, as a whole, was dripping with elite improvisation, and the first hour of the opening frame set the night aflame with non-stop action. Phish certainly brought its A+ game to the midwest, and kicked off their trifecta at Deer Creek with an explosive affair.

A show opening sequence of “Carini,” “Wolfman’s” and “Sand” reads like a misprint, but the reality was anything but, as Phish came out of the gates with a purpose. “Carini” quickly transformed into an engaging and uplifting passage that instantly set an improvisational tone for the evening. “Wolfman’s” offered some silky and connected funk playing straying just enough from structure to keep it interesting throughout. “Sand” built upon the show’s opening couplet and elevated into another stratosphere all together, as Trey and Page converged in glorious interplay that brought the jam into gorgeous, major-key territory. Page’s piano work really stood out here, anchoring the groove in blissful pastures before Trey took the piece to the mountain top.

Short but legitimately well-played versions of “We Are Come to Outlive Our Brains” and “Tube” rounded out a gripping opening hour of the show. At this juncture, Trey pulled the Delorean out and set the flux capacitor for 1993, resulting in the run of “Nellie Kane,” “Horn,” “Rift,” and Wedge.” The set then concluded with a really hot version of “Walls of the Cave,” and that is something I’m not sure I’ve said before.

But as the bell rang for the main event, Phish came out ready to rumble. And, boy did they ever. Following the set opener of “AC/DC Bag,” the band decided to get the show on the road with a gargantuan version of “Blaze On.” This jam grew unique in that for a long time, the improvisation remained loosely anchored to the rhythms of the song and didn’t posses distinct thematic sections, yet amidst this context, the band was immersed in an elite and free-flowing conversation. In relistening, this extended section struck me as a jazz-based improvisation, not necessarily musically-speaking, but structurally.

After experimenting with alternate tones and effects, Trey emerges with clean, melodic leads, taking the “Blaze” jam into a second stage in which his playing creates a more distinct musical narrative. Following a peak to this section, it became apparent that this would be the jam that kept on giving. The band navigates several more distinct sections ranging from experimental to melody-driven, finally concluding with an extended victory lap in which the band takes the mega long form piece to the top.

Those are a lot of words before getting to the the most epic piece of music I’ve heard Phish play any time in recent memory. Tonight’s “Simple” jam is so astronomically bonkers it had Trey giddily laughing as he brought the band back into the song after plunging the depths of the underworld and the outer reaches of the universe. Fusing space-aged disco, psych-abstraction and seriously heavy groove, Phish crafted a piece of utter lunacy that instantly jumps into the upper-most echelon of all-time jams. I’m not going to even attempt to give a detailed account of this, because frankly it defies any semantic description. It is, in a nutshell, Phish incarnate.

“Harry Hood” felt like the perfect encore for “Simple’s” headlining performance, and the band played a concise and on point version of the hallowed classic to cap off a fantastic evening of Phish. But in a surprise add on, Trey called for “I Never Needed You Like This Before,” which I can see settling into a rocking, set closing utility moving forward a la “Zero” and “S.A.N.T.O.S.”

Damn. What a night. This new era of Phish has quickly become some serious business. As Ron Burgundy said, “Boy, that escalated quickly!” If the current trajectory holds, what is going to be happening by the end of the year? You can save the whales and you can save the toads, but I don’t care if the world explodes…