Encore: Amazing Grace, Costume Contest, The Squirming Coil

Reviewed by Dean Budnick.
©Copyright 2000 The Mockingbird Foundation, Inc.

Fans had been anticipating this show for weeks. For starters, people were happy to have the date back on the tour docket. Phish hadn't played a Halloween show since Colorado Springs 1991 (the infamous "Wait" show). October thirty-first is an important date in Phish lore because even though the band's initial gig at the ROTC had been something of a disaster, and even though it hadn't included Page, the show had occurred on Halloween. What's more, Phish had changed the rules a bit this year. Following many weeks of rumor and speculation, the September Schvice confirmed that yes indeed, this show would be a three set affair. Furthermore, the newsletter indicated that in conjunction with an audience costume contest, the band was going to wear a musical costume, performing an album chosen from among the most popular suggestions (although there was some question as to whether or not Phish would perform the album with the highest number of votes or rather would make its selection from among the most popular choices. Before a Bad Hat show in September Fishman indicated that Thriller was currently in first place and that the band was not likely to play it). At any rate as the date neared, speculation focused primarily on Jesus Christ Superstar, Frank Zappa's Joe's Garage, the Stones' Hot Rocks, Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon and any number of Beatles albums.

The venue itself was an 8,000 seat arena built in the 1970's primarily for hockey. It was nestled in the middle of a mildly decrepit old industrial town, forty miles north of Albany. We made it to Glens Falls long before showtime but since I was taping and I was wearing a goofy costume taboot we decided to head inside early. Although the Schvice had said that the show would start at 10:00, our tickets said 9:30 and we didn't want to chance it. As it turned out, the Schvice was right and we were in the arena long before most people even thought about entering. Still, things could have been worse, as the situation outside deteriorated closer to 9:30, with hundreds of the ticketless indulging in the Halloween spirit and antagonizing the crush of people pushing and struggling to get in (the path through security was moving slowly due to everyone's costumes). As an added bonus, because we had entered so early, the Dionysian Production people hadn't had time to see any really cool costumes. So Shelly Culbertson looked me over and handed me a sheet of paper that indicated that I had advanced to the next round of costume judging between the second and third sets.

I abandoned my costume with my friends up at their seats and moved down to the taping section. One nice thing about the Civic Center was that, unlike most northeast venues of this size, while the seats on the side were reserved, the floor was general admission. This offered more room for everyone at the rear of the floor near the tapers. Meanwhile, on the floor, most every conversation turned to the album choice. The familiar speculation continued as the arena slowly filled and expectations rapidly increased. Finally, around 10:15, the houselights dimmed, the band hit the stage and we were underway.

The show started predictably but not unsatisfactorily. Phish stomped into Frankenstein and the game was afoot. Sparkle was next and it kept the crowd shaking (I can understand why some Phish-heads grow a bit tired of this song because the jams don't vary perceptibly from performance to performance, but as far as I'm concerned that complaint is all posture. It's hard to come down hard on a quick tune that gives so many people a big ol' body-twitching, devil-grinning buzz). From here it was an extended version of Simple, a tune that had evolved nicely since its rough-hewn introduction that past summer. The band then broke into a notable Divided Sky, as the band deftly moved through the song's complex orchestrations and guitar-sustain exhibitions to some collective improvisations. Many pulses then quickened as fans heard the familiar oom-pah-pah that introduced Harpua. No one was sure when or how the album would be played and many thought that Jimmy's story might provide the perfect vehicle. This version took place on Halloween and included the familiar Vibration of Life, with a new twist, the Vibration of Death. Then when Jimmy moved to his turntable and put on a record, some people in the audience tensed, thinking that this might be the moment. But, no. Instead, Trey indicated that Jimmy had placed a Barney album onto the record player and the band zeroed in on a punch line. Trey explained that Jimmy had accidentally played the album backwards, and Phish then performed the music that Jimmy had heard: twenty seconds of Black Sabbath's War Pigs, with Fishman doing justice to Ozzy. Trey completed the story, the band sang the Harpua chorus and then it was on to Julius. Phish moved vigorously through this selection which turned out to be the only Hoist song of the evening. A solid version of Horse>Silent came next and while no one could say I think this exact thing happened to me just last year, most everyone was thankful that it was happening at all. The set concluded with an exploratory Reba (which included the whistling at the end, always a good sign) and a quick sing-along Golgi. All in all a decent, eighty minute start to the evening. During the set break all thoughts turned to the impending album. Fans wondered aloud whether it would appear in the next set or in the third. Then, a few minutes before midnight, just after the band members took their places on stage, the sound of a heartbeat pulsed through the speakers. Dark Side of the Moon. Some people howled in appreciation. But then the heartbeat ceased and the voice of Ed Sullivan emerged, introducing four lads from Liverpool and...over the thirty-year old recorded squeals of teenyboppers, Phish broke into Back in the U.S.S.R. The Beatles. The White album. A double album. Wow.

Despite what we knew, I have to admit that it didn't really kick in that they were going to play the entire White Album until Page hit the first notes of Dear Prudence. His tender rendition set the tone of the set with Page singing the mellow McCartney tunes (Blackbird, I Will) and Trey providing the vocals on most others, with Mike and Fishman contributing a few takes as well. Glass Onion came next and proved particularly entertaining. First, when Trey sang "the walrus was Paul", a spotlight shined down on soundman extraordinaire Paul Languedoc. Later, Trey changed a few lyrics in the third verse, transforming a Beatles self-reference into a Phish self-reference. Thus, "I told you about the fool on the hill..." became "I told you about Guyute the Pig, you know that he's a-dancing the jig". Phish then presented a faithful cover of Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da. Of course this wouldn't be a Phish show if the band didn't tweak things a bit, and so as the group moved through the album, Mike offered up a bluegrass interpretation of Don't Pass Me By and Fishman added some Electrolux to his inevitable Why Don't We Do It In the Road. The band completed the first album (or disc, if you prefer) with Mike and Trey's haunting Julia, which rivaled Phish's version of While My Guitar Gently Weeps as the finest of the batch.

Phish paused briefly at the start of side three (disc two). Then, instead of singing Birthday, Fishman stood and announced, "Believe it or not, this is Brad Sands's birthday...we'd like to invite him up here to get his cake". So while Trey, Mike and Page played an instrumental hint of the Beatles' Birthday, big ball boy/trampoline guy Brad Sands walked onstage in his Halloween costume, a Fishman dress, to receive his cake from the drummer. As Brad exited, Phish returned to the action as Mike growled Yer Blues. Page's intonation and phrasing on the subsequent Mother Nature's Son sounded similar to Paul McCartney's original. Trey then assumed vocal duties for much of the set's remainder, contributing two of the finer moments with Revolution (thankfully the slow, loopy version from the album and not the upbeat one later appropriated for a Nike commercial) and Cry Baby Cry (an overlooked Beatles gem). Following the latter tune, the band performed a show-stopping, set-closing Revolution No. 9. Fishman retrieved his vacuum cleaner and started doing his thing while the rest of Phish produced, as best they could, the many voices and sounds of the original. Towards the end of the song, the non-vacuum-soloing members of the band pulled out bubble wands and intermittently blew into them. Then as Revolution No. 9 reached its close with a voice proclaiming "you become naked", Fishman did just that. He pulled his dress over his head and pranced around nude while the Trey, Mike and Page chanted hold that line, hold that line between bubble breaths (a photo of this moment appears on page eleven of the booklet accompanying A Live One, although the letter H modestly covers Fishman's package). At around 1:30 AM the band stepped off-stage to the original taped version of Good Night, the last song on the White Album. Everyone collapsed into seats or onto the floor, exhausted.

But not me. I didn't have time to collapse. I had been a Beatles freak as a kid and as a Phish phreak now I felt like I had to play along, so I threw on my costume. I figured that while I wouldn't be allowed on stage for the finals, at least I would participate in the festivities, and greet the band members during this stage of the judging. Sadly, I was mistaken (Oh yeah, and in case you're wondering, I dressed up as my then-favorite Phish songs, Slave to the Traffic Light. I wore a studded dog collar with a chain leading up to a facsimile traffic light that I had found at a flea market. Lame yes, but easy to get on and off). Fifteen or so of us were herded into a corner of the hallway which led down towards the band's dressing room. We were told, "Now we're going to separate the wheat from the chaff". I was not surprised to learn that yes, indeed I was chaff (although I did receive a lovely parting gift, a copy of a Surfing magazine from earlier in the year which contained a Trey interview). I returned to my friends who were still ranting excitedly about the set. Their attitudes ranged from the devout ("I think the spirit of John Lennon was with us tonight") to the irreverent ("I don't know about Lennon but I think I saw Ringo at the Greenpeace booth"). Phish returned to the stage around 2:00 AM. Those few people who had dozed off were nudged awake as the band reminded them that the night was by no means at an end, with a massive David Bowie. Next came Bouncing Around the Room, an exercise in calisthenics to keep the adrenaline flowing. The band then launched into Slave To the Traffic Light, which wafted through its Methanyesque progressions and spiraled to a close. A solid Rift followed and most people were sure that this would close out the evening. But no, a real treat came next with the rare Sleeping Monkey. The tune was all the more appropriate on this evening because its ending is unabashedly lifted from Let It Be (if you're curious, yes, one day I'll fix the Sleeping Monkey entry in The Phishing Manual). At this point most fans were convinced that Phish would walk. But no, Mike induced square-dance fever with a zippy Poor Heart.

Then Trey, Mike, Page and Fishman drop-kicked an exclamation point onto the evening with a savage Antelope. As the song stormed to a close, the band smiled, waved and walked off. Their work was done.

Nearly. The quartet returned to the stage barbershop style and moved through a slightly frayed version of Amazing Grace (Fishman's voice was a bit tired even if the rest of him wasn't). Next it was time for the costume contest, and here my brush with greatness paid off as I rallied the people around me to root for the contestants that had become my favorites during the five minutes we had been corralled together. I lobbied hardest for the woman in the Hood milk carton who ultimately finished third, after she nearly had withdrawn from the competition because someone had danced on her costume during the first set. The winner was dressed as a giant Mounds bar or rather Mound bar after the Phish song of that title. The guy who finished second by the way, appears on page 23 of the Live One booklet. He appeared as a cobalt blue vacuum cleaner and called himself Lawn Boy (although personally I thought it was unsportsmanlike of him to swing around his hose during the final judging to solicit applause). At any rate Phish then brought the evening to a close with a splendid Squirming Coil. The song concluded with Page on stage alone, ushering us outside with a playful, pleasing piano solo. He wished us goodnight and walked off. It was 3:20 in the morning. We didn't want to go.