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Review by johnnyd
I (with 5 friends and a dog) was on the epic, circum-continental summer tour of '97. My college roomate Jake lived near Pittsburgh. He was into Phish too, not quite as much as me, but had a healthy respect and appreciation for them. (He really had no choice. In '94 - '96 our whole campus was awash in Green Day and DMB, and by that time I had accumulated dozens, perhaps a hundred tapes, which provided a necessary escape from ants marching, biting my lip, and closing my eyes.)
Anyway, Jake was pretty into the Dead - we had actually been to a couple southeast Dead shows together in '95 - (and a lot of other cool music too), but this was to be his first Phish show. So of course I was hoping for exactly the perfect show that would resonate with him, convince him beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was a band and experience like no other.
Now, recall we are only a couple days past the 2nd anniversary of Jerry's passing, a topic which surely came up as we tailgated. And as we settled into the pleasant summer's night of music, the strains of Franklin's Tower started eeking through the air, a little mysteriously at first, as many great teases evolve, but then unmistakably. We looked at each other, incredulously confirming that we were hearing the same thing, as the jam took on that viscous feel - the richness in the air that Phish creates like no other band I have ever heard. I think a warmth overcame the whole venue as they played this brief but beautiful tribute to the Fat Man, celebrating the love, community, and energy that music enables and facilitates.
At least, thats my story, and I'm sticking to it!
(I really need to update my collection of shows.)