A Burst of Firsts
SET 1: AC/DC Bag > Foam, Theme From the Bottom, Gumbo, Scent of a Mule, Down with Disease > McGrupp and the Watchful Hosemasters, Hello My Baby
SET 2: Also Sprach Zarathustra > Runaway Jim, Loving Cup, Sparkle > Mike's Song > I Am Hydrogen > Weekapaug Groove, Hold Your Head Up > Bike > Hold Your Head Up, Slave to the Traffic Light
ENCORE: Rocky Top
In the 16th show of the European tour and the 18th of the year overall, there was still opportunity for debuts. For the final two-setter abroad, Gumbo, McGrupp, Bike, and Rocky Top all made their 1996 bows, and the first complete Mike’s Groove of the year ushered Hydrogen and Weekapaug to the new year — well, technically, Weekapaug was played in the first 20 minutes of ‘96, but y’know. Arguably, Mike’s Groove would be just as effective a band primer as I described with YEM yesterday, but with the risk of the gentle-spirited Hydrogen getting heckled into oblivion, it was probably wise to save the suite for friendlier confines.
I’d argue this show also includes an even bigger, and shockingly delayed, premiere for 1996: the first truly Type 2 jam of the year. That seems impossible, especially a year and a day after the Fleezer. But apart from a few guest-supported diversions (the Jazz Fest CTB with Michael Ray, the Trento Taste with Carlos and Karl Perazzo) there really hasn’t been a single song that has broken free of its typical boundaries this calendar year. The closest thing might be the 7/10/96 Bowie in Paris, which flirts with a new chord progression for a couple minutes, but never quite reaches “what song was this again?” territory. Or a real stickler could argue Amsterdam was full of open jamming, in that the band itself repeatedly forgot what song they were inside of. But I shall not make that case.
Instead, I’m crowning tonight’s Down With Disease as the first performance to explore virgin territory in this year of Phish. Disease is a song I’ve been lobbying for in these essays since last summer, though I fully anticipate being quite sick of it by the time I’m done recapping 1996 (it won’t be helped if 2021 Phish go heavy on its unfortunate topicality as well). It’s rare for a song to find its improvisational footing and then get moved to the shelf, which is basically what happened to Disease in 1995. Despite that monster Saratoga version, and despite it fitting Phish’s arena-rock evolution like a glove, it only resurfaced in the fall three times, all of them in December.
But after a return in Italy which featured a unique coda, Disease starts to really stretch its legs in Deutschland. This one goes just over 15 minutes, and diverts pretty rapidly from the big finale riff, Trey switching to the chords and letting Page and Mike handle the embellishment. Around the 7th minute, Trey starts pushing that progression into a different channel, which slowly dissolves away the remaining Disease elements as it gets nastier and nastier. It feints back, then hushes in the 11th minute, when Trey finally starts playing leads around a wailing sustain in a segment ever so slightly suggestive of the Remain in Light influence to come.
The final two minutes reveal just how far they’ve traveled, without any major switch-ups or key changes, from the Disease theme — a little wah pedal, a little bit of vague Santana-ness, a driving bassline, and an acrobatic, gradual return to the Disease riff. It’s (another) demonstration of the potential waiting to be unleashed within the song, one they won’t forget this time around; the highest DwD gap for the rest of the year will be a mere 4 shows.
Having remembered the thrill of open improv, Phish revisits it for the second time this year in set 2, where Mike’s Song gets an even longer reading of nearly 17 minutes. Like the noisy segue into Bouncin’ from 7/9/96, they downshift into a more atmospheric second jam without the usual ascending-chords chapter break. But this time they stretch out the more experimental half, Trey playing long slide-whistle drones over Page’s discordant piano, a one-chord jam that is nicely minimalist if a little aimless. But middling result aside, it feels like the first time they’ve attempted something new in this entire trip.
When they return to the Markthalle in 1997, they’ll finally find that fresh sound they’ve been looking for, so much so that they’ll rapidly release that show’s highlights as Slip Stitch & Pass, serving notice to Phish fans that big changes were afoot. When I keep saying that they’re planting seeds this time around for them to harvest on the continent in future years, I didn’t think it would be quite so tied to one particular venue. But the first steps taken into the Markthalle will come full circle to give birth to a new Phish form in just a little over six months.
[Show photos from Brad Lowry, thank you again Brad!!!]