SET 1: Ya Mar, AC/DC Bag > Foam, Theme From the Bottom, Mound, Stash, Fee > Taste, Loving Cup
SET 2: David Bowie, A Day in the Life > Bathtub Gin -> The Vibration of Life -> You Enjoy Myself, The Star Spangled Banner, Fire
ENCORE: The Squirming Coil
I’ve logged a lot of complaints about Fall 96 this past month, but there’s one I haven’t quite been able to articulate as of yet. For whatever reason, Phish on this tour just doesn’t sound as BIG to me as they did the year prior, or as they will in the year to come. The storyline of 1995 was Phish growing into their new arena rock status, and the cocky swagger absolutely fueled the delirium of December. But Fall 1996 doesn’t have that same confidence, not just in the playing itself, but the size of the band’s sound.
No disrespect to the tapers — I would never — but I think the quality of the tapes might have something do with this impression, particularly with so few 1996 SBDs in circulation. The all-arena tour may have something to do with that, and Phish also played quite a few venues that they would only play once or twice, perhaps due to subpar acoustics. It’s also noteworthy that the band was definitely not filling up those venues — if the figures in my Pharmer’s Almanac can be believed, a lot of shows in this Midwest stretch were only three-quarters full. Kansas City only drew 6,000 to a 9,000 capacity room; the night before in Memphis had only 7,400 in a room that holds 10K.
Contextual factors aside, there are sonic reasons as well why Phish might have gotten temporarily wimpier in ‘96. The Billy Breathes songs, as a group, are quieter than the norm for Phish; aside from Free, Theme, and Zero, you’ve got some delicate songs frequently swimming through the setlist. My arch-nemesis the mini-kit tends to thin out the sound whenever it appears, not just through removal of Trey’s guitar but also because it was rather poorly amplified, whatever Trey was playing often reduced to a mere tick-tock. The more minimal jamming direction that Phish is starting to explore doesn’t yet have the textural depth it would start to acquire in 1997, and most significantly, they haven’t turned Mike up yet.
I only bring all this carping up now because it has, happily, started to correct itself over the past handful of shows. Since Omaha, the band has again started to sound suitably massive and self-assured for the arena circuit. Again, this may just be an uptick in recording quality — those midwestern tapers brought their A-game for sure. But it’s also happening musically, from the hubris of the Omaha Hood and its Note through to 11/18’s monumental 2001 > Simple to tonight’s second set.
I got a bit of grief for not spending more time on the Simple in Memphis; in my defense, the first jammed-out 2001 was a pretty big deal! But I also forgot to give the SBD of that Simple (from the Road to Vegas bonus disc) a spin, and the professional mix does wonders for its reputation. There’s a little extra detail, like the little loop Trey triggers and better coverage on his weird soundboard*, that salvages the mini-kit somewhat. But it’s all about the six minutes after he returns to guitar, where Trey builds a huge rock peak without going full machine gun, all big bended notes and heartache melodies. It reminds me of some of the Allmans-y playing he’s done lately in 2021.
That excellent Simple also fits in well with the triple towers of heavy jams played by Phish tonight in Kansas City. The Gin, which floats past 20 minutes for the second time this tour, has a similar climax starting around the 7 minute mark, before a downshift into a darker, funkier mode. Earlier, Bowie is regal and unhurried, with a leisurely, spacey intro (not unlike the previous night’s 2001 prelude) and a patient jam. YEM features an early appearance of stop-start, breakdown jamming, another flex that only a confident, razor-sharp band would attempt in front of a big crowd. Later, they jam on “Groove Is In The Heart,” then several years past its hit single prime, because why not.
It’s unclear what triggered this sudden embiggening of Phish’s sound, with no obvious catalyst like last year’s side effects from the Quadrophenia costume (which also surfaced in KC). It might just be as simple as the band warming up after five weeks on the road, or some of the elements of their transformation starting to finally click into place. I’m also curious as to whether this trajectory continues as the tour jumps out west; I suspect not, since this middle-November, middle-America run is generally considered to be the apex of the fall. But at least the regression narrative of 1996 is finally broken — the band is no longer shrinking in worrisome fashion, the cycle has begun anew.
* - I attributed these samples to Fish a few shows ago, but readers (and further listening) have set the record straight that they were part of Trey’s kit. Phishcrit regrets the error, and the post will be corrected.
Thanks for giving the Simple a little love. 1996 is an odd year for the band. But 1997 will be here soon! Great post, Rob. Cheers
Greta write up, and interesting point about the SQ of some of these shows. The important question, though, is will we get a definitive ranking of best mini kit jams of 1996 before the end of the year?!?