Dark Ride

11/14/95, Orlando, FL, University of Central Florida Arena

SET 1: Chalk Dust Torture, Foam, Billy Breathes, Divided Sky, Esther > Free, Julius, I'm Blue, I'm Lonesome, Cavern

SET 2: Maze, Gumbo, Stash -> Manteca -> Stash -> Dog Faced Boy -> Stash, Strange Design, You Enjoy Myself -> Immigrant Song Jam -> You Enjoy Myself

ENCORE: The Wedge, Rocky Top

Listen on phish.in or Spotify or the streaming service of your choice.

Let’s first ask the important question about this show: did Phish go to Disney World on their day off? My research has been inconclusive, with the strongest evidence being a throwaway Kevin Shapiro line in his essay accompanying the 2007 LivePhish release of this show: “it suffices to say that a trip to Disney World was the perfect buildup to a remarkable show.” By this point, the band already had one Disney cover in its repertoire (“I Wanna Be Like You,” already come and gone) and they’ll “cover” a whole dang Disney album in 19 years, so it’s not too much of a stretch to imagine them fitting in some Space Mountain rides between the Gainesville and Orlando shows.

[BREAKING NEWS: Brad Sands confirmed that they indeed went to Disney World on a recent November 1995 episode of Under The Scales.]

Now I’m not one of those adult Disney obsessives, thankfully, but I will admit to a fascination with Disney theme parks, cultural hegemony of the parent corporation aside. The amount of infrastructure, technology, and human ingenuity that goes into creating an immersive fantasy environment is astounding; I’ll happily consume endless documentaries and podcasts that dive deep into the history of The Haunted Mansion or Superstar Limo. Even better when it’s material about the dark side of Disney, the occasional urban legend such as the policy that nobody is allowed to die on Disney property or that they used real human bones in Pirates of the Caribbean, or (less supernaturally) the Yippie riot of 1970.

The creepiness just beneath the Happiest Place on Earth is a mood that would logically appeal to Phish, a band forever mistaken for goofy hippie muppets that relishes the opportunity to scare the bejeezus out of its audience. The spooky side of Phish appears at its highest frequency in the last year, from the experimental jams of last November and December (peaking with the Providence Bowie) through the dissonant marathons of the summer. Fall 95 is less overtly horror-film — it’s more harrowing, like the adrenaline rush of a high-speed car chase — but it occasionally dips into the macabre.

Tonight at UCF is one of those dips. My Disney visit hypothesis is given circumstantial evidence by the first-set appearance of Esther, a song that’s literally about a nightmare at an amusement park, and later, Maze, a metaphorical nightmare that could be about...waiting in line for a ride. But it is, of course, the Stash that best represents the singular Disney vibe, a facade of all-American storybook peacefulness sitting atop a network of dark tunnels, predatory capitalism, and the occasional authentic skeleton.

Stash has been a tremendous song for Phish in the last year, but it’s also a song that tends to stay in the box improvisationally. As exemplified by the 7/8/94 version included on A Live One, it’s usually a masterclass in the tension/release dynamics Phish has sharpened to a diamond-sharp edge in this era, but you pretty much always know where you are and where it’s headed. Like a dark ride at a theme park, Stash might whip you around in every direction, but it’s going to stay on the rails and spit you back out where you boarded. 

But merely playing this Stash in the second set already suggests that this trip through the fun house is going to be different. Stash is pretty much exclusively a first-set warmup jam at this point in Phish history; the only other late-night appearance it’s made since early 1993 was...that 7/8/94 version that made the live album. The second hint that strange things are afoot is how they bungle the intro; Trey clearly catches the whole band off guard with the call, the good kind of flub, one that reflects inspiration striking rather than mere sloppiness.

There are a couple other promising signs early on — Trey dancing, the weird ascending staccato runs Trey does during “maybe so, maybe not,” the heavy, syncopated “25 or 6 to 4” tease at the outset of the jam — but it stays on course with the usual thrills and chills for a good 13 minutes. It’s finally cracked by one of the more successful mini-kit jams thus far, if only for inspiring the suggestion of Manteca, one of two Mike contributions that extend this performance far beyond the scope of a typical Stash. The second (after another “25 to 6 to 4” stretch plays an unlikely Mind Left Body-ish role) is the most thematically on point: Mike steering the band back into an Esther-prise, doubling down on the dark carnival atmosphere of the night. 

The segment from the Esther tease through Dog-Faced Boy is my favorite. The video is a useful supplement — all the Trey giddiness of the first 20 minutes settles into a locked-in stare, the extra-spaceship lights of 1995 are exerting their influence, the music is flowing effortlessly between darkness and light. It settles into just about the most minimalist segment you’ll ever hear from Phish, five minutes where the band members seem to dare each other, without even making eye contact, to withhold notes. It’s the perfect backdrop for an atypical Dog-Faced Boy, a sideshow freak attraction that fits the theme and gains new power from being incanted like a Kung or a Catapult.

After some megaphone hijinks, the band steers back into Stash, wrapping up the (undisputed?) greatest version of the song some 39 minutes after it began, a mammoth jam that moves so fluidly it feels much shorter. All that danger was an illusion, we were safe the whole time, that cowboy or mobster didn’t really hijack the vehicle, you get off this ride in the same room you entered it. Just like Disney’s Imagineers, Phish has mastered the art of emotional manipulation, using technology, lighting and sound to make a dark room feel like another world. 

[Ticket stub from Steve Bekkala. Screenshots from nugs.net.]