Phish Is Murdering The Classics
7/6/97, Desenzano, ITA, Spiaggia Di Rivoltella
SOUNDCHECK: Samson Variation -> Olivia’s Pool, Beauty of My Dreams, Hell’s Bells, You Shook Me All Night Long, MMMBop, Another One Bites the Dust, And It Stoned Me, Only Shallow, The Banana Boat Song (aka Day-O)
SET 1: Runaway Jim, The Old Home Place, Dogs Stole Things, Stash, The Horse > Silent in the Morning > Cars Trucks Buses, Scent of a Mule, Chalk Dust Torture
SET 2: Free, You Enjoy Myself > Waste, Rocky Top > Funky Bitch
ENCORE: My Soul
As mentioned yesterday, European tours have a way of blurring the boundaries between Phish and its fans. By the last week, everyone’s face becomes familiar, and a certain “final days of summer camp” vibe sets in. Nothing exemplifies this phenomenon more than the 7/6/97 pregame, likely the most famous Phish soundcheck of all time. If this is news to you, spend a little time with the recording or the video; as the bonkers setlist up there indicates, it’s well worth 42 minutes of your time.
For the second day in the row, the openness of the venue – in this case, a graffitied platform on a public beach on Lake Garda – meant that the soundcheck was essentially a free, early bonus set for anyone who got to Desenzano early. The footage shows there was no attempt to keep listeners at a distance; everyone’s just crowded around the lip of the stage (and behind it) like it’s the actual show. So after some actual tuning up, Phish diverts into silly covers, then holds a combination mic-stand limbo contest/live band karaoke party. In 40 days, they’ll draw 70,000 fans to the very northern tip of Maine, but today in northern Italy, they’ll play for 70 or so, and let them hop on stage and make requests.
The format means that Phish didn’t pick all of the soundcheck’s covers themselves, though they certainly played an editorial role in approving whatever karaoke choices their fans selected. The unintentional result is a very diverse menu of songs that somehow ends up surveying the landscape of Phish’s sound in Summer 1997 and the years beyond. It’s a sort of Tarot card reading, with the randomness introduced by the audience choices.
There aren’t too many bands that can pivot from James Brown singing Hansen to My Bloody Valentine in three moves. And while I wouldn’t go so far as to say that any of these performances sound natural, that they can pull off reasonable facsimiles with zero advance notice says a lot about Phish’s technical prowess and, more importantly, taste at this critical juncture.
Hell’s Bells/You Shook Me All Night Long
The tolling of a distant church bell sets Phish down their jukebox path, though Trey can’t quite remember how the “Hell’s Bells” riff actually goes, so we get another Back in Black track instead. Phish are no strangers to the AC/DC songbook, but it says something that they eschew their familiar Highway to Hell cover in favor of something, for lack of a better word, hornier. I have described Phish in the past as a neutered Zeppelin, but 1997 does feel like a year of sexual awakening for them. To wit, in a version that remembers a very low percentage of lyrics, Trey makes sure to hit the “she told me to come, but I was already there” line. Ew. But in fairness, a little rock-and-roll bad-boy behavior served them well in 1997, before it inevitably turned sour.
MMMBop (Performed in the style of James Brown)
I started this tour out by observing Phish were all business, no silly stuff – no trampolines, no rock opera songs about lizard people, no drummer in a dress. But here’s a nice reminder that they’re still funny as hell. There are multiple lines that always make me laugh in this performance, “like an 11-year-old sex machine” chief among them. It’s also a good sign that they don’t take their new funk persona too seriously; the goal of “James Brown on his worst night” may still be a month away, but Fishman’s horrible James Brown impression (which sounds suspiciously like his Brian Johnson impression) conveys the message just as well.
Another One Bites The Dust/Another One Rides The Bus
Here’s some symbolism for you. Phish closed out 1996 with a Queen cover, faithfully (and stiffly) recreating the baroque “Bohemian Rhapsody” with a whole-ass gospel choir. Half a year later, they’re playing the one that’s basically just a John Deacon bassline, with an audience member doing the Weird Al version of the lyrics. Phish had teased “Another One Bites The Dust” — another extremely white band playing around with black, funk-inspired music — a handful of times, but it fits best in this era, with the band’s new sparse, bass-forward sound (Trey is also too busy judging limbo to play) and Page playing his distorted electric piano.
And It Stoned Me
In spite of the very late-90s grunge yarl delivery, this one gets the blue ribbon for best audience member vocal performance, while also being the song most out of step with the current Phish sound. Phish doesn’t have a lot of blue-eyed soul in its catalog yet, though that will change in the distant 3.0 future. Consider this card the most prophetic; it’s hard to imagine a Moondance Halloween in the late 90s, but now? Maybe. Cheers to Page for using the “Let It Be” ending to close it, just another mashup in the pot.
Only Shallow
Here’s the dream moment for a certain type of Phish fan (e.g. me). An ambitious lady in the crowd offers to do a My Bloody Valentine song, and Trey’s eyes light up. “Eva will now sing one of my all-time favorite songs,” he says, yielding limbo judge duties to Page so he can turn on every loud pedal at once and do a passable impression of one of Kevin Shields’ many overlapping guitar tracks on the album version. Fishman sounds pretty excited too, recreating the song’s drum fills and offering support to poor Eva, who can’t recall a single word (“That’s hard stuff to sing,” Trey comforts after.)
Rumor has it the duo were gung-ho to do Loveless for Halloween 1998, but couldn’t convince Mike and Page. Alas. In the end, Trey will get the last laugh, as his increasing use of loop pedals running in and out of sync will give the rest of the decade’s jams a shoegaze feel, even if they’ll come in Down with Disease instead of “Soon.” But Trey’s indie cred has arguably never been higher than the afternoon of 7/6/97, when he’s wearing a Residents shirt, plays an MBV song, and then sings a couple lines of Stereolab’s “The Noise of Carpet.” What a hipster.
The Banana Boat Song (aka Day-O)
“The official limbo song” rounds out the coverfest. I prefer to think of this performance as more inspired by Beetlejuice than “Man Smart Woman Smarter,” but it’s pretty light either way, just an excuse for the last two women to battle it out for the prize of being lifted over Trey’s shoulder and twirled around. If not for Richard Glasgow telling Trey to wrap it up, it might have been followed by one fan’s suggestion that the members of Phish do a limbo contest while their fans play the instruments. “Day-O” says nothing about Phish’s sound in 1997 or elsewhere in time, but the circumstances say multitudes about the hazy line between the band and its fans, vanishing completely for a casual beach party, days before they go home and start destroying America.
PS - Nobody remembers this, but the actual show is good! Better than I remember. Check out the Stash, which I swear contains pre-teases of Meatstick and Fikus, and the YEM, which drops the vocal jam for an ambient fadeout.