Freezer Thermometer

7/1/98, Copenhagen, DEN, The Grey Hall

SET 1: NICU > Sample in a Jar, My Mind's Got a Mind of its Own, The Moma Dance, Down with Disease -> Dog Faced Boy > Piper, Waste > Chalk Dust Torture

SET 2: Tweezer > Also Sprach Zarathustra > Loving Cup > My Soul, Sweet Adeline

ENCORE: Harry Hood

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Phish fans love to hear Tweezer – this is known. The desire to hang with Uncle Ebenezer is simple to explain: Tweezer can be relied upon to go deep into improvisational territory more often than any other regular rotation song in the Phish catalog. They can’t all be historic jams of substantial length, but when Trey calls for Tweezer, the odds that you are about to see something special certainly elevate.

There’s also a more subtle reason to adore Tweezer across different eras of Phish. Virtually every time it has been played since its frat party debut in 1990, Tweezer has been a reliable thermometer for the band’s status and interests at that time. There have been eras where they played it as hard and fierce as possible, used it as a portal to long, dissociative marathons, or slowed it down to a molasses drip. Even in 1997, when it sat out half the year, the song quickly caught up on its cowfunk homework and became an exemplar of the form in Denver, Hartford, and Auburn Hills.

Here in 1998, Phish forces Tweezer to adapt once again. The funk hasn’t gone anywhere; they play Moma Dance here for the second time in two nights – two sets, even. But the main assignment for this year’s European vacation is the quieter, atmospheric sound we discussed yesterday, the product of late nights in Bearsville and the continued push for new frontiers in minimalism, democracy, and texture. 

The adjustment pains are palpable early in Grey Hall night 2, as a fascinating 20-minute Down with Disease mood swings between hard rock and ambient ooze. For half the song, they sound like a band that will soon be playing to the back of American shed lawns for the rest of the summer. For the other half, they sound like the kind of weirdo Danish experimental jazz-rock act that normally plays a Wednesday night in the drug market district of Copenhagen.

Down with Disease is a song that does one of those things better than the other. Tweezer, on the other hand, is the “get you a man who can do both” meme. But it’s still a lot of pressure to put on the first Tweezer of the summer, given its leadership role in the Fall 97 sound and the fact that heavy funk-rock was what it was originally designed for. Its first appearance in 1998, as the surprise opener of 4/4/98, reflected this transition – it’s a fine version, but still rooted in the previous year’s sound, positioned between two second sets that rush headlong into the future.

By contrast, 7/1/98 Tweezer is another data point to show just how far the band has come in the three short months between Island Tour and Europe Tour. Trey goes to the loop pedal early in the jam, but rather than flitting around the condensed funk of 97, it lays the track for a more expansive sound – still funk at its core, yet relaxed instead of tightly wound, drifting peacefully beyond orbit. It works its way back to Tweezerville for minutes 13 to 18 – organically, with none of the sweaty abruptness of Disease’s tonal shifts – then opens the pod bay doors again for a weightless final section.

These last five minutes start by circling around No Quarter (13 years before it makes its proper Phish bow), but then chooses the Zeppelin tune’s swirly stargazing verses instead of its devil horns riff breaks. The band’s ability to float patiently and quietly through this section feels particularly high difficulty and counterintuitive, working against the band’s natural reflexes to fade out, build up, or jump quickly into the next song. Instead, the jam slowly and seamlessly tees up 2001, already the standard-bearer for the new year’s new sound.

It’s not the best Tweezer we’ll hear all year – that might be the one exactly one month from now – but it is a Statement Tweezer, a big ol’ signpost previewing the year to come. Instead of resuming the arson-funk Tweezers of Fall 97, it takes the baton from the Island Tour Roses, signaling that the remarkable jam in Nassau wasn’t an anomaly, but a trend. It’s patient but purposeful, deeply-layered and communicative, with nobody hogging the ball. Once again, Tweezer proves its adaptability, its uncanny power to both reflect and shape the current state of Phish.