SET 1: Tube > Funky Bitch > Limb By Limb, Dogs Stole Things, Punch You in the Eye, Billy Breathes, Heavy Things, Guyute > Free
SET 2: Wolfman's Brother -> Sand, Meatstick -> Maze, Prince Caspian > Harry Hood
ENCORE: When the Circus Comes
The third show of the fall tour brought the last two major debuts of the season, a pair of songs that perfectly encapsulates the split personality we discussed yesterday. In one corner, we have one of the most straightforward pop songs Phish would ever write, their latest – maybe last? – attempt to crossover to a broader audience. In the other corner, a song representing the extremes of Trey’s experiments with TAB, a trance-like treadmill that produced 20-minute jams before he even brought it to Phish. Aside from sharing a central role for the delay pedal, these were songs headed in very different directions, creating the final tug-of-war over Phish’s sound in their chameleonic 90s.
Heavy Things started with a Phish-related side project too, but it wasn’t Trey’s. Debuted in early 1999 by Tom Marshall’s band Amfibian, the song was a Trey/Tom composition from the Trampled by Lambs days with lyrical input at various stages from Tom’s pal Scott Herman and Amfibian bassist Matt Kohut. Its progression is pretty interesting: the succinct lo-fi original could be a song by The Shins, while Amfibian’s version adds on a lengthy guitar-led jam and a couple outro sections. I’m not sure it’s “darker,” as Tom claims, but this form is much closer to a typical Phish song – the allegorical lyrics feel like something off Rift, the moody jam and fussy structure resembles late 80s/early 90s material.
But Trey took the song back and remade it yet again, first with TAB in May. Russ and Tony’s thick sound was a weird fit for the chipper tune, and Trey lightened up the arrangement even further for Phish, turning it into marshmallow-soft pop right down to the saccharine “ooh-ooh-wah-ah” vocals at the end. It ends up being Phish’s most mainstream song since Sample – though more mainstream for 1979 than the rap-metal heyday of 1999 – and they’d be so confident in the new song that they’ll play it for their largest television audience ever at the end of the year.
On its debut, Heavy Things already sounds finely polished, like they could go into the studio tomorrow and record it. But that’s no surprise given how simple it is. Its nearest neighbors in this show highlight its lack of depth – you could uncharitably call Billy Breathes soft-rock too, but it has harmonic complexity and Floydian majesty, and Guyute is the kind of old-school prog epic that would scoff at Heavy Things’ four chords. It would stand out much less today – Evolve is basically Heavy Things: The Next Generation – so it’s surprising that it's so scarcely seen.
Not so Sand, which has remained a Phish staple basically since this debut. It arrives fully-formed, methodically working its way to 18 minutes on its first time out, following the extra-large mold set by TAB versions in May. Following it very closely, in fact; Fish and Mike replicate Russ and Tony’s unchanging parts, and it’s fun listening for when the endless repetition starts to break them. Mike proves unflappable, only varying the volume of the bassline for the jam’s entirety. But Fishman has had enough by the 13th minute and just starts bashing his snare and crash in protest.
That this leads to the most exciting segment of the jam, with Trey snapping out of his effects pedal trance and responding with angry power chords, speaks to the differences between Phish and TAB and the potential perversity of making the former play like the latter. Before that point, there are stretches of the jam that sound like Trey – well, there’s no better way to put this – playing with himself, laying down loops and engaging with those instead of his fellow humans on stage*. Only when his rhythm section goes off script does the jam leap to life.
And once again, this approach breaks the containment of the TAB songs, influencing the band’s approach in other jams as well. Wolfman’s locks quickly into a solid acid-funk swagger driven by a very active Mike until breaking down into what starts as an ambient section and ends as Trey soloing solo. The Caspian is as grand as the gorge behind them, but Harry Hood wraps up its jam quickly and extends its length with a windmill ending strange enough to earn a shownote. The new Phish – in the form tonight of Heavy Things and Sand – continues to clash with the old Phish, and for now it’s equal parts frustrating and fascinating.
* - I wrote this essay the weekend of Dick’s, and it was shocking to switch from this Sand to that run’s excellent version, a collaborative and creative performance with all four members contributing equally from the jump.
Nice nod to the Dick's '24 Sand, which is a work of art. One of the coolest versions they've ever played.
Your joke reminded me of that part in the Val Kilmer ‘85 classic Real Genius when they attach a speaker to Kent’s braces and pretend to be God with a warning: “And Kent…stop playing with yourself.”
Kent: “It is God.”