Signing the Deed

12/29/97, New York, NY, Madison Square Garden

SET 1: NICU > Golgi Apparatus > Crossroads, Cars Trucks Buses, Train Song, Theme From the Bottom > Fluffhead, Dirt, Run Like an Antelope

SET 2: Down with Disease -> David Bowie > Possum -> I Can't Turn You Loose Jam > Possum > I Can't Turn You Loose Jam, Tube, You Enjoy Myself

ENCORE: Good Times Bad Times

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On December 29th, 1997, Phish officially took ownership of Madison Square Garden. It might be a strange date to pinpoint, given that they had already played one of their greatest shows ever in the building two years prior, and given that this isn’t even the best show of the ‘97 MSG run. But the sixth Phish appearance at the Garden is the one where the relationship between band and venue flipped for good. It’s the pivot from the deferential group of geeks that was just honored and surprised to headline the round room in 1994 to the take-no-prisoners band that would have first-refusal rights in perpetuity for the holidays. 

Just the mere length of their 1997 residency asserted Phish’s dominance over MSG. In 1996, they lost out to friggin’ Blues Traveler on capturing the featured year-end date, and were rudely relegated to two weeknights in October instead. That wasn’t going to happen again, and the band booked a full trio of nights the next year to plant their flag firmly in Pennsylvania Plaza. Selling out MSG for even one night is the apex of most bands’ careers; booking it for two nights is pretty cocky. But moving in for three or, the following year, four nights in a row is starting to get ridiculous – even the Knicks and the Rangers rarely play four games in a row at home, never mind without off-nights. What’s next: a 13-show run?!?

The other part of the conquest is that the 29th is…just a normal Phish show. NYE ‘95 was a triumph, but one where the venue was somewhat peripheral – it’s the convergence of multiple career threads, wrapped up in a big (charmingly amateur) theatrical production, and while it’s poetic that they pulled it off in a famous music venue, it wasn’t essential. The pressure to do something *special* every time they visited MSG carried over to 1996 with its dance troupe and Buddy Miles, but shoehorning spectacle into a non-holiday date didn’t really click.

With three luxurious nights to stretch out in 1997, there’s no need to force it. The first set tonight is definitely the sound of settling in, with only a typically superb Fall 97 Theme of note until the set-closing Antelope. Here, for the first time, the band really sits down and pops the recliner, tearing through the middle and then spending almost equal time in the third section of the song, avoiding Rocco, Marco, and the setbreak for as long as possible. 

When they come back out for the second set, they spend more than two minutes dicking around in space, negging the World’s Most Famous Arena that they don’t even need to play a song to keep a sold-out crowd entertained. The 40+ minutes of Disease and Bowie that follow are massive slabs of music, unfailingly intense and dense but unhurried. They never really wade deep into Type 2 waters, just barreling along at their own chosen speed, oblivious to the storied surroundings with the aloofness of confidence.

Then it’s time to get goofy. Trey spends most of Possum playing his Camel Walk part instead of the normal chords, the rest of the band pretends not to notice. Page catches an Otis Redding earworm, and the rest of the band decides to learn “Can’t Turn You Loose” on the spot, returning for a second bite of the apple at the end of the song. Again, this is not the sort of thing a band does if they are cowed and awestruck by treading the boards of MSG.  

Deep into the show, Tube finally provides the Fall 97 dance party that the band has thus far withheld, featuring all the essential ingredients: Trey yelling indecipherable instructions off-mic, Fish wrapping himself brilliantly around an out-of-phase bweeoooo, a game of breakdown hot potato that Page playfully derails with his second crucial tease pull of the night (“I Feel The Earth Move”...a reference to those notoriously rolling MSG floors?). YEM keeps that party vibe afloat, sprinkling in Black-Eyed Katy and Boogie On teases* and leaving a sweet drone purring beneath the vocal jam. 

But symbolically, it’s the encore that may be the most brazen seizure of MSG ownership since Jordan in the 90s. The venue’s place in rock history was clinched by The Song Remains The Same, and up until this point Phish had restrained itself from airing their most-played Zeppelin cover in tribute. Placing it here, as the cherry on top of a thoroughly regal set, feels like Phish crowning itself as proper heirs after taming the arena that best represents rock n’ roll success. From this point on, they would live rent-free inside its walls, adding history instead of merely borrowing it.

* - Neither of which are listed on phish.net, which is weird for such a well-known show? And neither is the Camel Walk/Possum? Am I being gaslit?