The All-Arounder

8/1/98, East Troy, WI, Alpine Valley Music Theatre

SET 1: Ramble On > Mike's Song -> Esther > Weekapaug Groove, Guyute, Fikus, Birds of a Feather, Lawn Boy > Funky Bitch

SET 2: Piper > Wilson > Also Sprach Zarathustra -> Magilla > Also Sprach Zarathustra > Tweezer > Fluffhead, Brian and Robert > Albuquerque > Chalk Dust Torture, Frankenstein

ENCORE: Been Caught Stealing > Tweezer Reprise

Listen on phish.in

Most classic Phish shows are beloved because they do one thing really well. There’s a big jam or chain of jams, a seguefest, a flurry of bustouts, a thrilling new debut, or a surprise gag that delivers. On any given night, Phish can do any of these things – that’s why we keep going. But they rarely deliver all of them at once, for good reason, as it’s just hard to do all of those things even within the constraints of a three-hour show. But on the band’s third visit to Alpine Valley, they go for it, and they pull it off. 

Here’s where I make the standard attendance-bias disclaimer – this was my sixth show, the first since Palace ‘97 reconfigured my brain, and this night made sure those changes stayed permanent. It’s a very different show from 12/6/97, which is a perfect example of “doing one thing really well.” But I had an absolute blast from start to finish, despite standing at a 40-degree angle on the Alpine lawn for several hours, and I treasure this night almost as much as the one in Auburn Hills (again, my favorite musical performance by any band ever, so it’s stiff competition).

But I fully recognize that you might be thinking I’m a hypocrite, having criticized prior shows on this tour for their lack of flow, an accusation that could definitely be thrown at this one as well. I won’t try to claim that putting Esther in the MIke’s Groove is the most fluid move, or that Magilla doesn’t cut a promising 2001 short, or that Fluffhead and two ballads in the middle of the second set doesn’t kneecap the energy. But on a night when Phish sounds like they’re attempting to represent the totality of their talents – perhaps because it was being webcast in thrilling sub-standard definition to dial-up modems across the country – flow is a necessary sacrifice. 

Along the way, they hit several different categories of Why Phish is Great:

New Covers: If it weren’t about to be eclipsed by another legendary moment in about a week, I would declare this opening Ramble On as one of the best crowd cheers in Phish history. On either AUD or SBD, you can hear the slow wave of recognition sweep up the steep layout of Alpine Valley, and there are secondary cheers every time the band adds another element of the song, like Trey’s impression of Jimmy Page’s gentle harmonized riff break at 2:20.

My setlist, pardon the tour stains.

And unsurprisingly given their frequent Zeppelin covers and teases, Phish nails it. I’ve always loved how Page sings Plant here and elsewhere*, transforming the original’s hyper-sexualized screech into a sensitive and sweet cry, and it works especially well on the song that dorkily name-drops Mordor and Gollum. The particularly prominent keyboards on the LivePhish mix also bring Page’s lovely, bespoke piano part – ain’t no keys on the Led Zeppelin II version – to the fore, giving Phish’s version its own flavor while also paying fitting tribute in one of the great classic rock venues of the Midwest.

The second debut cover of the night also gets a fantastic crowd reaction, but it’s more shock than celebration. While it’s always short odds that Phish will play a Zeppelin cover, nobody had Jane’s Addiction on their scorecard, and the crew bringing out the trampolines during the opening chords only added to the bedlam. This cover gets by more on enthusiasm than accuracy – let’s just say I’m not as wild about Trey doing Perry Farrell – but I adore that Phish could bookend a show with classic and college rock, straddling their formative influences.

Rarities: The deep pulls of the last three shows slowed down at Alpine as heavy hitters Mike’s, 2001, and Tweezer returned to the fray, but the couple songs dusted off at Alpine were particularly fun. The first Esther in 139 shows may be a baffling choice for the middle of Mike’s Groove, but it’s an inspired one, providing a needed breather after that fiery Ramble On > Mike’s Song appetizer. It also pairs well with the second set’s Fluffhead as representatives of Phish’s early prog storybook days, with a rapturously received Guyute updating the trope.

Magilla in set 2 also looks like an intrusive species on the setlist, cutting off a promising 2001 after only one peak and changing the mood so thoroughly that the band quickly aborts its attempted return to the preceding song. But as much as I would have loved to see a full 2001 in its peak era, I love the “only at a Phish show” swerve from space jazz to bebop, fusion deaging to its progenitor right before our eyes. Playing Page’s first composition also confirms the SBD mix’s assertion that this was Page’s night – the chairman is cooking from start to finish.

I’d like to see you spell “Albuquerque” in the dark without a smartphone.

Undercard Jams: The fuse lit by that opening Ramble On isn’t squandered in the least by a Mike’s and Weekapaug that just about takes the timber roof off before the sun set behind the lawn. The way they patiently burrow into the menacing Mike’s jam should not be overlooked, so early in the show and on the heels of pulling off a bombastic cover. And hearing Page skitter over the B3 for the first half then move to piano for the remainder in such high resolution is a pleasure – his lick at 8:36 is one of those Phish snippets branded into my brain (I know we all got ‘em).

Weekapaug matches its fraternal twin, picking back up the cowfunk-at-warp-speed approach from The Gorge while the band splits into Trey-Fish and Page-Mike pairs. And despite being cut off early, the 2001 is pretty great, with heavy teases of Crosseyed and Painless The Right Way (the “Isn’t it weird, looks too obscure to me” melody, not the “still waiting” melody…this is one of the few things I am a crotchety old Phish vet about). But all three of these jams pale in comparison to…

That Tweezer: I don’t think this Tweezer often comes up very often in the Best Ever conversation, and it might be because it’s so out-of-character – possibly the gentlest Tweezer ever played. I mentioned earlier that this was my first show after Palace ‘97, and the two Tweezers couldn’t resemble each other any less after the first four minutes. Instead of watching the gates of hell open up their bloody maw, I leaned back and watched the Wisconsin night sky do its natural version of a Kuroda light show.

The jam starts off like it’s trying to make up for the abridged 2001, but Mike forces a key change that makes it a much more wondrous space voyage, more Apollo than Deodato. It’s too busy and rhythmic to be ambient music, but it’s allowed to be peaceful and unresolving in a way that Phish sometimes struggles with – the closest thing to it in modern times is Beneath A Sea of Stars. The band is so entwined through the jam (please admire the telepathy at 14:30) that it’s almost criminal to focus on one member, but Trey is magnificent and ego-free throughout, generating little melodic sparkles that he subtly massages with effects (a little Leslie here, a little octave pedal there) then sets free for Page and Mike to transpose. 

I swear I was on the lawn for this show…memory is weird.

It’s the crowning achievement of a terrifically versatile show, one that I highlighted in my circa-2012 Phish primer as a great entry-level show. The zig-zag setlist resembles an earlier Phish, a band giddy to show off all the different things they could do every single night as they climbed the venue ladder, casting as wide a net as possible to build their audience. But while 8/1/98 performs the same polymath trick, it’s from the perspective of a band that has already climbed that hill, and now can bask in the confidence and comfort they’ve earned. Phish can have it all, and so could we.

* - How dare Trey steal the lead vocal from Page on 10/30/10? I’m still mad about that.