Now, the treats at a Phish show come in all different forms. From the hysterical pre-curtain convo I had with some loon in a tie-dyed T-shirt and 2011 glasses carrying his “meat stick” from the New Year’s Eve show the night before, to the foursome from Vermont’s cover of Walk Away by the James Gang in the middle of the first set that almost blew the roof off the Garden. The entire night that makes up a Phish show is part musical improv and part magical mystery tour.
To walk into one of their concerts is to jump into a giant Phish Bowl. These four musicians have got their gig down to a complex science. Their original songs and the covers they choose take you on an exploratory journey through power chord rock, jazz fusion, bluegrass, funky grooves, country sing-along, and some hippie dippy geeky nonsense that in my opinion doesn’t translate well to the studio albums that Phish puts them on. Well, my opinion doesn’t matter in the phish bowl, and their loyal fans devour every bizarre note, lyric, and crowd participation moment the band has to offer. When you mix this cultural concoction and play it through light man Chris Kuroda’s kaleidoscope, the result is an amazing 3-hours of sensory overload.
They opened the new year with My Soul featuring one of the most basic blues riffs known to the guitar, and the show got a lot more complex and heated from there. I couldn’t possibly identify their one-word title songs from my place in their fan base, but I was pretty alone there. As soon as the first note of a new song was released every tweaked fan in the Garden raced to call it – “TUBE dude!” followed My Soul, giant smoke plumes followed, and off we all went on our journey.
Phish got the entire Garden crowd to bounce for the reggae-like intro to Guelah Papyrus, they played fan favorite Divided Sky, and then hit hyperspace with their blinding version of Walk Away. I’ve only seen a few bands raise the roof of the Garden to a level like that and I couldn’t help paying them the ultimate concert accolade, aloud to myself as I looked around M.S.G. – “fuckin’ awesome.”
They touched my oddball favorite Phish album “Farmhouse” with Gotta Jibboo, then again in the second set with a slow and trippy version of Twist. (I still think that was their best studio album life to date, but I haven’t given them all an equal listen.)
The first set ended with a great chance for Page McConnell to stand out from his post at stage left behind the piano as he pounded away the dramatic chords of Walls of the Cave. He and guitarist Trey Anastasio are truly impressive showmen and great musicians. Trey goes nimbly back and forth between blues scales and classical arpeggios and it is next to impossible to figure out where his fingers leave off and his custom Languedoc guitar begins. One thing is certain. He is the conductor of the 5-man orchestra known as Phish (remember their fifth man, Chris Kuroda.)
I don’t have as much good to say about bassist Mike Gordon since his incident with the daughter of a Hell’s Angels biker only 9 miles from my house, but let’s not get into that. He’s a kooky looking bass player that anchors the band pretty solidly. I really don’t have anything to say about drummer John Fishman. The guy plays drums in a dress and they named the band after him.
Set two was equally amazing. They covered Crosseyed and Painless by the Talking Heads and everyone followed the directions in the chorus "saaaaaaail away!” Then Twist, Simple, the mellow crowd shaker Sneakin’ Sally thru the Alley, and back through Kingston Jamaica with the Makisupa Policeman reggae chant. They ended set 2 with a driving version of David Bowie and walked off to darkness.
Nobody thought for a second they were done. It had only been about two and a half hours of music, it was Saturday night, and we we’re in New York – Phish had to leave it all out on stage. They came back on for Fee and then shocked the crowd for a finale. Page McConnell grabbed a ferocious keyboard guitar, took center stage and they blasted out a psychedelic roof raising version of Edgar Winter Band’s Frankenstein. Chris Kuroda took a final opportunity to let the crowd know that the light guy is part of the band because this encore was among the most memorable in my 25-year history of concert attendance.
I came into the Phish Bowl very relaxed with no expectations. Like I said, they aren’t my favorite band and they're still not. However, I walked out wishing there were three more sets and saying to myself – “I’ll come back if they do.” In fact…I grabbed one last treat on my way out the door. Madison Square Garden sure is one funky Phish Bowl.
