Red Rocks Rerun

6/9/95, Morrison, CO, Red Rocks Amphitheatre

In 1993 and 1994, Phish visits to Red Rocks felt like momentous occasions. Their first show at the scenic Colorado venue was part of the breakthrough month of August ‘93, bringing that run’s manic energy to a larger-than-normal venue for the time. The two-night stand of 1994 felt like a turning point away from the mostly safe, record-promoting approach of the spring to the more adventurous summer. There were giant iguana stories, a storm-chasing Divided Sky, Purple Rain with Fishman’s mom, the return of Frankenstein, two great Melts, a first-set YEM considered one of the song’s universal constants, and plenty of other legends.

But the start of their two-night return to Red Rocks almost exactly a year later isn’t nearly as beloved. It’s not the (mostly offstage) disaster that the next year would bring, it’s just kind of a lull, a tape that I remember circulated widely — perhaps just on the strong branding of “Phish at Red Rocks!” — while sitting on nobody’s must-have list. After such a promising run-up in Idaho and Utah, what happened in Colorado?

The easy target would be the new songs and their awkward integration into the setlist, but I don’t think that’s the problem here. Most of them are clustered into the middle of the first frame, with Strange Design, Theme, and Taste all played in close proximity, only broken up by an Oh Kee Pa > AC/DC Bag. Trey sounds a bit sheepish about it (“We appreciate you letting us try out some new songs...we’re pretty excited about it,” he aw-shucks), but since they appear before there’s any real flow to interrupt, it’s harmless. 

No, if there’s a temporal state to blame for this show’s flatness, it’s the past, not the future. The setlist for 6/9 is oddly duplicative of the band’s first show at Red Rocks on 8/20/93, repeating 8 songs from that earlier show — and not inconsequential songs either. The repeats largely make up the tent poles of the set: an early Divided Sky, a pre-setbreak Antelope, Melt for the early second-set jammer, Slave and Coil predictably wrapping things up. It’s not just redundant, it’s safe, for a band that should feel more comfortable in their third summer at the venue. Where’s the band that plays Harpua second?

Though unusual, even for the relatively shorter songlist of the time, the repetition wouldn’t be an issue if the ‘95 performances were a significant leap past the ‘93 versions. Nothing is played poorly, though Divided Sky, My Friend, and Antelope are a bit rusty in their 1995 debuts. The band has warmed considerably by the end of the show, turning in very fine versions of Slave and Coil; Page’s solo in the latter is particularly magical, a significant advance on the repetitious codas of last year. 

But aside from that finale and The Wedge’s new intro, the repeats are of similar quality to their predecessors, only hinting at the progress of the last two years. The best comparison point is Melt, played for the third year running at Red Rocks. There’s a high bar for the ‘95 version to match; the 8/20/93 Melt has the fierce directness of the 4-months-earlier version that would end up hidden at the end of Hoist, while the 6/11/94 is even leaner and meaner with a noisy Trey anti-solo, more sirens than notes over a paranoid Mike bassline.

The 6/9/95 Melt is the longest of the three, but it feels the most aimless. It’s played at a more methodical tempo, and Trey’s approach is stuck in between the two earlier versions: long phrases for the first half of the jam, a more dissonant approach in the back half. It never makes good on its threats to fly off the tracks, like the most brilliant Melts; a handful of disruptive attempts, such as Trey’s axe-murderer chords from 8:55 to 9:35 or his ascending runs in the 12th minute, can’t knock the jam off orbit. It’s not bad, but after the last two years of Melt evolution, expectations start higher than “not bad.”

We are tough on this band, particularly looking back from the heights they reached. As a consequence of the high standards we set for them — and they set for themselves — we expect Phish to always be moving forward. Apart from continually introducing new songs, there’s also an expectation that they’re constantly reinventing the old, finding new interpretations that keep the oldies fresh. Nobody would complain if Springsteen played “Born to Run” every visit to the Meadowlands, but Phish repeating half their set and playing fully competent versions of those repeats at Red Rocks furrows brows. 

There are very reasonable excuses for a ho-hum performance here. The last two years, they slammed into Red Rocks riding on months of touring momentum; this year it’s only the fourth show after several months of R&R. It’s also possible that they have progressed so fast since 1993 that they’ve already outgrown Red Rocks — not just logistically, as the “riots” of next year would announce, but also musically. It’s a year when their sights were set on heavy metal parking lots, not bucolic natural wonders. 

Ticket stub from Golgi Project, which has a fancy new interface since I was last there!