, attached to 2023-08-01

Review by rjmasterson

rjmasterson Well, I broke a cardinal sin, yet it seems to have paid off. I'll explain.

So far, I've only missed the Sunday show of this run, which goes against everything we think, feel and know. And yet! We love a midweek show. A gentleman wearing a shirt that read "NEVER MISS A TUESDAY SHOW" received a compliment from at least one person, before the show itself even started. And then, well, okay:

The Ghost right out of the gate set the tone. Tonight was going to be a night to dance on The One, to get re-acquainted with The Funk, which: yes, sure, every evening spent with Phish should be one for dancing, but it became apparent from the Ghost jam that we would be taking a rhythmic journey. Coming off of Sunday's controlled exploration, Fishman did a lot of heaving lifting to keep everything together when it seemed like we would spiral out of control. This is all before the Reba or Funky Bitch that followed, both of which were excellent.

While we're here: sitting behind the stage is its own fulfillment; having done this three out of the four times so far this run, you come to appreciate CK5's complete vision. He has the (albeit limited, though I suspect this will amp up soon) capability to incorporate the back-watchers now. He pays heed at about the same speed as Trey and co. do, occasionally shedding that light and facing us, but we all appreciated it all the same.

Anywhom'st, who doesn't love the band paying some heed to Jerry Garcia's birthday with a nice Timber (Jerry the Mule)? Exceptionally executed, the peaks and valleys seem to have satisfied the many Dead-clad friends looking to offer condolences. Sure enough, we were all broken into pieces, a song to solidify that, before a fantastic Wolfman's that somehow set the tone for a wild S1 closer that found us all looking at the walrus. They are the eggmen, for sure, because my brain was scrambled.

Sample to kick off S2 was sublime; hearing the chords drip off of Big Red's Doc was poetry, and it only got better (and substantially weirder) from there. Big peaks begat anticipation, specifically alluding to Golden Age, but we'll get to that; the song itself begat a KDF that satisfied a lot of urges and killed a lot of thoughts, until: yup, there it is, the Golden Age we were all thinking about roughly twenty minutes prior.

Shade gave us a necessary breather. The Sneakin>Twist was a ridiculous ride of blues-flavored funk that matched the feel - you see why and how they ride without setlists these days on nights like this - before, WOW, a YEM that smashed us over the head and made me totally jealous of the friend I'd brought who was seeing his phirst show. Consider that particular chase ended.

Not unlike many reading this, my heart fills when I hear the first two string strikes of Wilson - that one hits home. Trey gradually took it from a funk party to a hard rock party, but by the time we got to the encore, it was full force, two Tubescreamers blazing.

Sanity was placed perfectly, because: AH! Bowie. After the Bowie cover on Saturday, it was heavy talk that we'd get that then, but we got it here, and it went. What a jam, what a sequence of Kuroda. Even from behind the stage, it was a notably impressive display. A show-closing Character Zero hit home the full transition in feel, and make no mistake: it was absolutely dynamite, a perfect way to roll that tapestry up and put it away, safe for tomorrow.

On Friday, I heard southern rock in a heavy way, by which I mean: Trey hit a couple of Mountain Jam licks throughout and a little Jessica reference during Cities (not to mention the Tweezer reference there and during Free from both him and Mike, a bit allusional to NYE '22).

On Saturday, I heard Chalk Dust references - I guess Trey said the price of the brick went up. So many things remain on the table that the price of the Wednesday ticket, one I don't intend to possess, should follow suit.

Tonight was the altogether tightest that - humble personal opinion - I've seen from them thus far this year. It's clear they pick and choose their spots, maybe they always have, but Madison Square Garden is their spot no matter what. It's hard to have a bad time at MSG, but this time they are tightening up as they go. I lament not getting a Wednesday ticket, and I cannot wait to see them on Friday.


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