SET 1: Runaway Jim, Gumbo > Maze[1] > Fast Enough for You, Also Sprach Zarathustra > Funky Bitch, Guyute, Run Like an Antelope[2]
SET 2: Wolfman's Brother -> Piper > Twist > Slave to the Traffic Light
ENCORE: Bold As Love
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Review by waxbanks
This was the moment when Phish stopped giving their fans a Great Value for the Money, stopped being the Best Night Out in Rock, and transformed into something deeper and stranger. It seems to me this music could only have come out of the band consciously rejecting the urge, the felt need, to be anything in particular. Having burnt fuel at an extraordinary rate in 1994-96 and consciously reached for a rhythmic-experimental lifeline in spring and summer '97, the band came to the desert able (because for the very first time *willing*) to glide noiselessly through space, to listen hard to starlight rather than needing to throw off sparks. They're not showing off here, not even a little bit. Can you imagine how hard that must have been for someone like Trey Anastasio? For a mind like his to quiet down to this degree? But here they are moving beyond funk as *style* to minimalism of every sort as *method*, and finding the opposite of the academic austerity that 'minimalism' seems to imply -- an intense negative pressure that pulls from them something theretofore hidden and secret.
The difference between the breakthroughs of Fall 97 and Phish's previous 'psychedelic' playing is that there isn't a hint of forebrain in these shows. They move logically from tune to tune, but it's an emotional logic, joyfully (and darkly) irrational. Wonderland is a scary place, ask Alice. The intuitive group movement and deliberate unself-conscious evolution within and between improvisations, sets, and whole shows is the main thing separating the dark spaces of Fall 97 from previous experiments that could be antagonistic, or cute, or narrowly representational. I think I've said this before: old Phish could sound like what sad lonely music sounds like, but by Fall 97 the music could finally just be sad and lonely (and much else besides). Maybe that's the essence of their maturity as artists. 'The *biggest* idea...communication.' You can hear some of that in the Vegas show, to be sure -- there's a reason folks get weepy about the Vegas Stash -- but something emerged full grown on this night. Not just a dreamy second set, but an enveloping nightlong experience that moved from effortless mastery to a frightening intensity of engagement in the first set, and then to (what I hear as) perfect presentness in the strange winding road of the second set.
You may prefer other shows from this monthlong journey -- Everyone Knows 12/6 Is the Best, and so ploddingly forth -- but listening now I'm startled by the rapidity of the band's transformation, these first few nights of tour, from the guys who played that heartbreaking Gin and asswiggling 2001 at the Great Went to the ghost travellers darkly whispering on this night. Ultimately it's not about 'funk' at all, but about the natural consequences of embracing musical democracy and patient beat-first groove building and intense emotional presence as first principles and just seeing where it took them.
I know I should write more about other things, and let Fall 97 be, but as much as this 'review' is about the music (which is quite good, y'know; you can tell your friends quite confidently it's *good music*), it's about recognizing when four human beings, Artists almost incidentally, are undergoing a scary, thrilling transformation among strangers, and emerging -- constantly; still emerging, in fact -- as a new greater body, more robust and capable and complexly alive than ever before. You should listen to this show sometime because everything about it is, in some way, strange and new. It's brave as hell.
Our favourite band is four very brave guys. They brought back a beautiful piece of darkness to share among friends. How darkly deadly dreamily swell of them.