I'm tasked with writing a 500-word review for STTF, but I came up with 1600 words... so the full thing is going here, and the truncated review will appear in the next STTF.
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After three shows that felt a bit off to me, I’m ready for my fourth and final show of the summer to bring the heat.
The show opens with a fluid I Never Needed You Like This Before. The band looks and sounds as comfortable off the bat tonight as they did during set two last night after shaking off Wilmington’s damp. The smooth playing tells me it’s safe to say the band has shaken off the heebie jeebies. Turtle in the Clouds was clean, and it’s the first I’ve seen since Dicks 2019. I like it. There’s lots of stage banter between band members, telling me the guys on stage are having a swell time. Everyone else in the audience seems to get it, and the fact that I’m not hearing enough to understand reminds me how young the crowd seems to be compared to this jaded vet. By the third song, the band was more than warmed up, and a zippy version of Llama was welcomed by everyone in attendance. Yes, the band is having fun up there, making jokes and doing schtick. This version of Llama is clean, and its organ-driven hammering home the point that this band is charged up, especially for those of us raging Page side. People have been talking up slow Llama, and I’ve seen that variant a few times, but if anything this one felt sped up past the norm, with Trey smashing those machine-gun notes, very much in form. No trouble keeping pace from anyone in the band tonight, and they leave us breathless at full-stop.

This is one of those shows replete with banter (was that a Sprocket SNL joke, Trey?)... I don’t recognize this newer tune (first time played, Fall Tour 2021, MSG), Clear Your Mind, but I like it, too. Key changes, calls and responses, and harmonies with an underlying bed undulating in funky rhythm, its groove forcing me into motion. Take us to church, CK! Lights steepled in temple formation above the band, and I’m feeling this light show (maybe the best I’ve seen in my twenty+ years of seeing this band).

At this point, I meditate on the clouds covering the sun in just such a way that its rays cast a glow like the penumbra of the moon, except it hangs like this over the west parking lot at a middle-of-nowhere Phish concert, just for us.
Sample in a Jar is next. What I’m thinking throughout this set is the same: “Wow. This band is really together.” The crowd is feeling it and is chatty (summer shows, right?). I am dialed in. Trey hits the high notes, and Fishman drives home the point.

Then comes Taste, and the piano oozes reminiscence of those Billy Breathes years—the first Phish album I heard back when my best friend’s older brother lent it to us and I found it to be too far afield from the alt-rock I was listening to at the time. It reminds me of experimentation without the heavy burden of loss in the years since. And I love those high hats. I smile, and it’d be tough to wipe it from my face. The band follows Page, who is guiding this ship of memory. Page does not noodle here. He commands. He carries the flow through the middle build and on toward the end of this tune, and his playing is exquisite. When Trey takes the lead, listening for Page’s cues, he connects those licks with soaring tones of climbing scales. The climb back out of the jam hits me in my checks and tingles my toes.

The sun dips below the clouds, and Fish plays the off-beat. After this, Ocelot is fun. No faltering from anyone playing an instrument, and the team behind the scenes is holding it down, holding everything together. Trey takes those whinnying and wailing notes for a walk, hitting that whammy to bring us along with him. What we have here is a case of mass communication—of communion. The build here is neatly constructed and features multiple breakdowns through the bars, nicely wrapping up in the standard manner.

And next: Julius! I love it. Trey’s singing in that higher octave I heard in Wilmington a few days back, and it works. This bouncing treat is high-tempo, as hoped for, and raucous.

Saw It Again brings the first spontaneous “yeeeowwww!” from somewhere in my belly, spilling out of me outside my control.

The sun is nearly set, and the band gets dark. No hesitation from any member on stage, and CK + Giffin duo continue to blow minds. This is the rock music our parents warned us about, people. It lures us into dark regions, the band playing the piper’s role in our descent. The song breaks until nothing remains but our gritty gut feelings.
Sparkle is quietly energetic today. Purple is the vibe of the song, thanks to our lighting team. Red accents.
The silliness continues with Ass Handed, which straight slaps while bringing the laughs. It’s a fun song that totally fits the band’s vibe today. We’re laughing right along with the fellas on stage.

Sand. Fuck yeah. I cannot ever say no to this tune, and this version doesn’t disappoint. The crowd is younger tonight than it was last night, and I find myself glancing around while I boogie, appreciating that there are new fans here getting a sample of what’s driven the rest of us to come back time and again. Trey is absolutely ripping it for the last third of this one. It started with a flow and ended with a crash—not with a whimper but with a bang!

The second set opens with my wife Sara’s favorite newer Phish song, Everything’s Right, and it’s tough not to join her in loving it. Here’s a song that has been used as a breather that often turns into jam city, and that’s the job it does here.

Throughout the second set, the upper sections of the lawn are treated to a near-continuous stream of fireworks blasting off from the shakedown lot. Something about summer shows under dark skies. Everything feels louder, seems closer, and the light and sound washes over the whole crowd.

Everything’s Right takes a turn about six minutes in—it’s dark. It’s sensuous and fluid. Low and slow. Progressive, twangy, bordering on funky. Is that Manteca I keep hearing? They’re listening to each other so well. Mike slaps the base as Trey picks through a happy ditty while lights tinkle above (is that a Cities tease?), and there’s that thunder crash cymbal effect, Page accenting with high notes. In a moment, Page cues Trey to change keys. Mike keeps things flowing, and, all the while, Fish’s fills excite! Titillate! Arouse? At fifteen or sixteen minutes in, clear Slave to the Traffic Light progression. A bit later, Trey is flying high before bringing the band back `round to the refrain. Twenty three minutes of excellence.

Soul Planet opens up. The snob in me woulda preferred Vultures or Guyute, but this place is rocking, and by the slow breakdown a few minutes later, I’m feeling it. Six minutes in, the band is about to blast off. From the seventh minute onward, the familiarity melts away into something more porous, tinkling, dipping in and out of rhythms Fishman holds onto for the foursome. Mike explores the scale, and Trey follows his lead. Somehow, Page and Trey wind up climbing the same scale without clear signals or repetition. Their communication stands out again here. By the ten-minute mark, Soul Planet is more compelling than I give it credit for. By the time they head back toward the main theme, it’s a rip-roaring, singing and soaring good time.

I think they’re winding up for a full pause, but they keep up the energy and catapult us into Twist. Placed as a third song some thirty-five minutes into a set, I love it! I hear cowbell, organ, and Mike’s stair-climbing bass. This really is a feel-good song. Stevie Ray Vaughn teases in there, right? Kuroda’s lighting-in-motion is doing its work here, synchronous with the song’s turns. The band continues tinkering with that Stevie Ray Vauhgn sound.
Most Events Aren’t Planned follows Twist. This is a nice breather. The change of pace and timing mid-song is a welcome surprise. I’ve seen this song a few times, but I don’t really *know* it yet and don’t have a feeling for it. It shows off Phish’s prog-rock tendencies.

Next up is a debut. Monsters! This one may as well be a Pink Floyd song, and I’m in love. I can’t wait to hear this one again.

2001 is a good follow up to Monsters. I boogie my brains out, knowing that this show is nearing its end. This is a solid and enveloping version of this funk beast. What a heater! After this one, Rock `n Roll closes the set. Amazing. Such smooth playing from all and fantastic singing from our man on the keys. They’re back out for Grind, which they practiced at soundcheck earlier today. Next we get a Tube and Ghost (first time as an encore!). Love em both, and recall them closing that show twenty years ago at this venue with a Farmhouse encore. What a far cry away. There’s nothing fancy either of these closers—but hey, who doesn’t love a funky beat? It’s a party here in Burgettstown, despite what the notorious local PD have to say about it. The lights come up, and I’m done on this tour. Four shows in five days plus a single-day 650 mile drive is tough for these old bones. Headed back to higher ground in Utah in a few days.

To those who are about to rock in Syracuse, I salute you.