Discover more from Phish Essays
SET 1: Funky Bitch, Ya Mar, Carini, Runaway Jim, Meat > Reba, The Old Home Place, Dogs Stole Things, Vultures, When the Circus Comes, Birds of a Feather
SET 2: Buried Alive > Wipe Out > Chalk Dust Torture -> Mirror in the Bathroom -> Chalk Dust Torture -> Dog Log -> Chalk Dust Torture > Sanity > Buffalo Bill > Mike's Song -> I Am Hydrogen > Weekapaug Groove -> Wipe Out -> Weekapaug Groove > Weekapaug Groove Reprise > Run Like an Antelope
ENCORE: Wading in the Velvet Sea, Golgi Apparatus > Wipe Out
Look, I don’t like to speculate about Phish’s drug intake beyond the general facts that are public record: it changed, it increased, it became a problem, and thankfully, they conquered it. But if I’m ever going to make an exception, it would be for this particular show. The clues are not subtle: “Mirror in the Bathroom” is not about proper hand hygiene, the entire second set is played at approximately 200 beats per minute, and it’s the show where Trey was caught on camera mouthing lewd remarks at the front row* without even breaking stride. I don’t think I need to spell it out.
Disclaimer: I believe I’ve established multiple times on this project that I’m not a big drug guy; I wouldn’t even drink an alcoholic beverage at a Phish show until 3.0! And I want to stress that drugs should be used in moderation and in a safe environment. With that out of the way…goddamn does this sound like fun. It’s like a PSA for drugs. Stimulants of one sort or another might be dangerous substances, but there’s no denying they have produced some great live albums: Before the Flood, The Last Waltz, The Beach Boys In Concert, Rock N’ Roll Animal. With its release as Live Phish Volume 6, 11/27/98 gave Phish a place in this storied, cautionary lineage.
But they weren’t in that, er, heightened mood all night. On phish.in, we have access to the full soundcheck, where the vibe is more “late tour/post-turkey slap happiness” than Masters of the Universe hypermania. It’s a treat to hear the “Wipe Out” joke emerge in real time, amidst a fun set of blues and early rock and roll covers (and the “Barney Miller Theme,” which goes hard?). The first set is mostly pretty ‘98 standard and, if anything, chill, with pretty versions of Ya Mar and Reba that each get stuck in locked-groove repetitions, Story of the Ghost rejects Dog Stole Things and Vultures, and a BOAF that finally sounds like it’s shaking off its lead single shackles.
Then an entirely different band hits the stage after the set break. From Buried Alive through the start of Sanity, they barely pause to catch their breath; all four members play with the abandon of Trey in New Haven. As if Buried Alive > Wipe Out wasn’t adrenalizing enough, Chalk Dust immediately flies over the guardrails, with Trey and Mike duking it out over what song to tease: Trey bringing back The Surfaris in between verses while Michael argues for The English Beat until Fishman declares a winner and they all finally give into ska. The second Chalk Dust is an astounding four minutes, music of jaw-dropping power, speed and dexterity dipping in and out of the song, simulating jet takeoffs, air raid sirens, and modem malfunctions, landing with a crunch in a bluesed-up Dog Log.
After a brief bustout break, Mike’s Song delivers another zap to the heart, and they’re off at full sprint for the remaining 45 minutes – it’s crazy how long this set is, given how intensely they’re playing. Unlike the Hampton Mike’s Groove, this one invites no guests, just a Hydrogen they give into after a long, terrifying intro and kinda sorta remember how to play. But the Weekapaug alone is a full deck. Again, it’s just a dizzying torrent of ideas, played at blistering speed by a band completely in sync. Hear how they all pivot instantly when Fish switches up the beat at 4:20 (brah!) or how they all fall in for a second round of Wipe Out, no squabbling this time.
They also all seem to agree that they cut the song short, and wisely revive it instantly for a second go-round. The “Weekapaug Groove Reprise” is even better, with Trey looping his sustain for several minutes, flipping on his reverse delay, and letting Mike/Fish evolve the party high into dark paranoia. It’s begging for a drop into Hood or Slave to provide a set-ending moment of reflection, but they just triple down on intensity with Antelope instead, saving the slow stuff for the encore.
It’s a glorious set, 1993 Phish delirium but played with 1998 textures. I’m not going to make a counterintuitive argument that this, too, is Ambient Phish. It’s the polar opposite, Maximum Phish, none more Phish. But it’s also unsustainable – even if I’m completely off base and this set was running on nothing but residual pumpkin pie and good cheer, it’s at the kind of pace that would still be dangerous in the long run. The band selecting it three years later for the first round of Live Phish releases suggested that they had no qualms about the motivation behind the madness, a supposition their next era would certainly appear to confirm. And as 2.0 showed, diminishing returns were inevitable, but even with a sober mind it’s not hard to see what made it so alluring in the first place.
* - I know I shouldn’t laugh at such boorish behavior, but the head shake and the “not you” at the end always gets me.
Subscribe to Phish Essays
Essays on every Phish show from 1994 onward
What a fun read! Feeling very grateful for all these informative and exceptionally entertaining essays. How much more fun could they be? And the answer is, none more fun. --Phloyd
My 4th show. I was on the floor with two of my best buds. I just turned 15 years old, no drugs or alcohol, my first Mike’s Groove. A concert I still think about a lot. It’s amongst the top 5 shows of all time for me up to this point (Radiohead at Bonnaroo 2006 being another). I never really understood Antelope until this night , when they stopped on a dime after the dizzying peak - I had a musical epiphany that echoes to this day. God bless the mighty Phish!