Once upon a time there was a band called Phish. Like the Grateful Dead before
them, Phish was somewhat of a cultural oddity, attracting legions of lazy-eyed,
rabid admirers to their unique, never-the-same-twice concerts. During their
20 years together, they built a huge and happy phollowing, especially on the
East Coast. And when it came to New Year’s Eve, Phish and their phans
partied like it was…well, whatever year they just happened to be ringing in.
With a phlood of live Phish CDs to wrangle with, Rhino’s three-CD Live
At Madison Square Garden New Year’s Eve 1995 has a lot to live
up to. By all accounts, this set phinds the phishy phoursome at the pinnacle
of their powers, offering up three sets of mind-tingling meanderings without
precedent. Well, at least that’s what those who were there and in-the-know
say.
Indeed, the 12/31/95 performance has been hailed phar and wide as the topper
most of the popper most. The Pharmer’s Almanac, the unofficial guide to
Phish, places it at the head of the heap. Likewise, on yet another one of their
ponderous “best-of” lists, Rolling Stone called it one of the top
ten concerts of the 90s. On contact, Live At Madison Square Garden New
Year’s Eve 1995 may not have all the zeal and trimmings of greatness.
But upon a more thorough investigation, it’s easy to see why Phishheads
are phlopping over each other and panting breathlessly for this one. After a
remedial roll-out of such favorites as “Punch You In The Eye,” “The
Sloth,” “The Squirming Coil” and “Colonel Forbin’s
Ascent,” guitarist Trey Anastasio phreezes the passing hours in his “Gamehendge
Time Phactory” and the band, led by lyricist Tom Marshall, phall into
a rousing, albeit abbreviated version of Collective Soul’s “Shine.”
No one but Phish could get away with something like this, and still carry on
without emptying the room.
But that’s only a slice of the pie. From a stirring rendition of the
Who’s “Drowned” to a life-altering “Runaway Jim”
back to “Gamehendge Time Phactory” where Anastasio, keyboardist
Page McConnell and bassist Mike Gordon, dressed in lab coats, essentially conjure
up drummer Jon Fishman wearing a diaper and floating down from the Garden’s
rafters at the stroke of midnight. It all makes for some strange and intriguing
theater before the band settles down to business and plows through with caustic
conviction. Along with their own “Weekapaug Groove” and “You
Enjoy Myself,” they revisit the Who’s Quadrophenia
album with a somber reading of “Sea And Sand.” They phinish up the
set with Edgar Winter’s “Frankenstein” (not to be confused
with “Phrankenstein”) and bounce back for a quick encore of Chuck
Berry’s “Johnny B. Goode.” Ten years later, phans circulate
petitions to bring Phish back while pondering that magical night in New York
City. Maybe next year, huh?
~ Shawn Perry
