Untimely Reviews: Phish, Dick's Sporting Goods Park, Commerce City, CO, 09/04/11

Sunday was a lazy, lazy day, and as you looked around, the strewn bodies roasting in the sun, and sizzling inside E-Z-Bake-Oven tents were evidence of the hard-core raging a lot of folks did Saturday. Sunday was a time to relax, gather yourself, and make the walk for one more show. One final evening of Phish until who knows when.

Things around our campsite were tiredly entertaining, like the eight quarts of lotion Surfer Steve put on his face, or the fact that Dakota Fanning was still alive, or even the story from Ari about the dude at the Bonnaroo Radiohead stage. If you want the details on that one, hit me up in the comments, and I’ll attempt to do that doozy justice. The day seemed to flash past, though, and before long it was time to get your drink on and mozy back toward the hole-punchers.

My stub assistant this time was Ben, who was dressed like the gayest man I’ve ever met. He had on a skirt with some kind of sequined, feathered-sash belt, a tiara, and about 10 other things that had fallen from the gay tree, but -– even though he talked like he preferred men -– he was moving (two weeks from show date) from Crested Butte to Durango because he couldn’t meet any ladies. I told him good luck with that one; he swore the odds in D-town had to be better than in the Butte. Nevertheless, I got Ben a Bud Heavy for his troubles, and he told me to meet him in the far corner Page Side.

Once again, I’d lost my people, and once again, I wouldn’t find them until set break. The show, nonetheless, was stellar.

“Maze” was the opener and it’s another soft-spot track for me but I’m gonna go the jaded-vet/Mike-on-KBCO route on this one: The jam of this tune belongs to Page and in the days of old, it felt like he was given free range to go bananas on the keys in it. He gets after it in this rendition and in most, but the darker, slow-building organ rolls that led into two-to-three-minute lightning-fast solos seem so rare, or diminished, and this is almost always because Trey is getting in his space. In this particular “Maze,” it feels like Page is typically just building steam and Trey comes in with these atrocious, high-pitched chords that just ruin the aura of McConnell.

“Back on the Train” was one of my first favorites on Farmhouse when it came out. Live, though, I think it tends to be a dud. It’s not a bad song and never will be and there’s always the gotta-fill-a-set argument, but I find most versions of “BotT” uninspiring, full of Trey noodles, and with the drumming too much in the foreground. This led into “Rift,” and as the terminology goes, it’s a suitable "type-one jam." Nothing not to love, but I doubt it will ever be an agency for experimentation.

Phish carried the segue into “Bathtub Gin” and it featured some Page insanity at the beginning.

Phish - 9/4/11 "Bathtub Gin" from Phish on Vimeo.

As the song develops there was some nice patience from Trey, and once the whole thing got going it was electric, the perfect example of all four being conscious of what one another was doing.

For a song I’d never previously heard, “That’s the Way That It Goes” was magnificent. I didn’t know anything about Gillian Welch prior than this show, save for seeing her name making the occasional music-venue round. But, if her version is half as good as Phish’s was Sunday night, she’ll be on my iPod sooner rather than later. I thought it was an interesting choice to go with two consecutive rarities, and “Halfway to the Moon” was a wonderfully calm jam. I’m excited to hear it again.

“Gumbo” used to be something I’d long for in setlists, but I think not long after A Live One came out, the novelty of it wore off. I was glad for homeboy camped near us that rocked the Mexican poncho all weekend; it’s all he said he wanted headed in Sunday evening. I’ll always love the amount and the variety of Page on this cut, but I think he could stand to take it up even another notch.

Two things: 1) Remember back when Phish had shelved a ton of songs and people felt starved for tracks like “Destiny Unbound” and “Halley’s Comet”? I know it’s a grass-is-always-greener deal, but I kind of miss those days, the days of passing out flyers at Red Rocks that would attempt to coerce the entire crowd to sing the opening verse to “Destiny.” I still love “Halley’s Comet” but it used to be a bit of a mystery song –- or at least a song a lot of folks were chasing -– and now it’s become, with its more frequent setlist appearance, a few cool verses smashed between bunches of lyrical repetition.

2) Right when "Halley's" started, a kid walked past me with a shirt that said “What is the truth to this everlasting spoof?” on the back, and that put a huge smile on my face (Editor’s Note: Dickie V. voice…Serendipity, baby!). Still dig “Halley’s” at the end of the day.

“Tube” has always been a funny little number to me but it always goes into some kind of dirty stutter-reverb jam, which makes me dig the shit out of it. Can’t get enough of the Mike slap/Page clav/Trey scratch. Phish.net calls Trey’s tease in this version “Charlie Chan,” but it made me think of the old Kung Fu game on Nintendo. As far as “Timber (Jerry)” goes, I don’t dislike it, but it’s never done much for me. A little monotonous.

I was super-stoked for my first “Roses Are Free.” Goose bumps galore. If Ween’s ever heard Phish do this, they’d have to admit that the original is inferior, no? Nothing negative to say, really, about the song, save that the jam didn’t necessary get a chance to build, but it served as a segue as they took it into “Chalkdust Torture,” a tune I could do without for a solid dozen shows. So, I guess I am griping about “Roses” in a sense. I’d take a long version of it any day, but you gotta please everyone, in this case, all the dorks that still get off on putting both arms up and screaming “Can’t I live while I’m young?”

“Rock & Roll” opened set two and I was pumped to catch this. I feel like the development potential is massive, and Page’s vocal work was great. This blended into “Come Together” which was a complete mind scramble. I’m never expecting Beatles covers out of these guys and they always manage to slide one in under the radar. It slipped right into “Twist” which was a fun way to tie two covers into original material, and “Piper” followed. “Piper” usually leaves me feeling blah, like get it over with and stop playing it, but the jam in this version was nice and inventive. I had no idea what Trey was hollering towards the second half of it, but it was groovy, and the thing melted first into a nice space jam, then right into “Harry Hood.”

“Hood” featured the sounds of Mike Gordon having a light-saber war with himself, as well as some of Trey’s most patient work all weekend. Really just lights out. Still pauseless, and into “Roggae,” and I hate to keep dipping into my galactically themed bowl here, but that was cosmic. Great sound spectrum.

More segue: “Ghost.”

A while ago, the great Joe Posnanski put up a poll on his blog, as he is wont to do, and this particular poll asked the question: “Who is the best current rock band in the world?” Before existing as a poll, though, it was a brief blog post that instructed brilliant readers to nominate bands via comment with a brief synopsis of why they should be included. It was one of those situations where, when you see it, you want to act so fast you nearly freeze.

I managed to get to the post, though, and naturally, I nominated Phish with what I deemed a solid description. A few comments popped up -– all told there were 308 comments in 15 hours, which, if you’ve never blogged: that rocks –- and one or two of them supposed that Phish is not really a rock band. These things were supposed for reasons indescribable. So, to anybody that wrote that or feels that, I present to you this “Ghost.”



It of course segued into “Guy Forget.” And when I say “of course,” I’m being facetious. I have no idea what the deal with this tune is, but I do know that to be sandwiched between two “Ghost” segments it must’ve first been dipped in a golden batter of badassery. Back into “Ghost” and “now you all know who the ghost really is…”

“Walls of the Cave” was the second-set closer, and I’m not going to pretend to know the metaphor of this song but I should probably retract my statement from the Friday-night review wherein I claimed that “Seven Below” is the best song from Round Room. I suppose “Walls of the Cave” is, or maybe even “Waves.” “Seven” definitely had the most potential as an authentic Phish jam, but as I said, where it goes beyond about the seven-minute mark is crappy. (Note: “Walls,” during the re-listen, got huge, huge points in my book via sheer coincidence: The wife brought our eight-month-old daughter down to review headquarters and I put my headphones on the baby just for shits and grins. She rocked out some seven minutes of this “Walls” and appeared to absolutely love it.)

Anyway, the song reminds me of some kind of alien after-human-life revelation or some kind of coded what-Phish-was-all-about explanation for later generations that are maybe too technologically advanced -– “listen to the silent trees” -– to get what we, as live-music lovers used to do in a general sense, and more specifically with regard to seeing the same act time and again. Also, it makes me think of John Locke and the whole final season of “Lost,” but that’s neither here nor there. In essence, this was one heck of a weekend closer, and tour closer for that matter. Probing lyrics, high-energy jam, and the crowd seemed to really dig it, too. One of those moments where you not only have to take your hat off to Phish, but genuinely thank them, too.

In these reviews I’ve spent a fair amount of time mentioning the goings-on in TypeIIcast and they deserve some kudos here, specifically Stephen Olker. He, and other panelists (I think) have criticized set-closer choices, which, upon first hearing that, I found a bit trivial. For the final piece of irony regarding my own opinions, I was absolutely stunned that “Backwards Down the Number Line” was chosen, not only as the show/weekend tour closer, but that it was the only song in the encore.

A one-song, “Backwards” encore to close out what was arguably one of the tightest Phish tours in a decade. Stunned, I tell you. Stunned. And in all honesty, I love the tune. I thought it the perfect lead-off hitter for Joy when Joy came out and I haven’t wavered there. In spite of my criticism of Olker and company though, I think songs have a place in a setlist, and if “Backwards” has one, I’m not certain what it is. I do, however, know that if you’re gonna drop it in an encore, it had better be first in a three-spot.

I mean, they didn’t even do anything special with it. They just mailed it in. Mailed in the one-song encore to close out Summer Tour 2011. And that was it. It’s possible that it was significant to include the one song that has the lyrics “all my friends,” to use the song to talk about aging and spending time together. It’s possible that they were just messing with people, as they’ve done in the past.

All things considered, it was a great three-show run, and a heckuva night and setlist to wrap it, and the only afterthought I had was that it was a long walk back to the campsite, an even longer drive across Kansas the next day, and longest of all was the Tuesday back at work. Like Uncle Jake said, “Tuesday reminded me of one thing: “I’d rather be on Phish tour.”
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Untimely Reviews: Phish, Dick's Sporting Goods Park, Commerce City, CO, 09/03/11, Part II

With my people still gallivanting around the Front Range and my interviews complete, it was time for some leisure, which I obtained via the company of the following: Lorin, and her pals Lara and Ari (Viking horns), a couple of other Connecticut-ers, Thomas and Adam (a.k.a Surfer Steve) from the University of Arizona (who Lorin adopted for the weekend), Mean Guy, BizarroJeff -- not to be confused with DiscoBiscuit Jeff -- and Dakota Fanning’s doppelganger. It’s ridiculously unfortunate that I did not seize the group-photo opportunity, but what’re you gonna do.

BizarroJeff and I made the nine-foot trek over to their shelter, and there was no shortage of comedic gems offered in the two or three hours hanging with them. For starters, Lorin, Lara, and Ari had shirts made with the Phish logo, and below it, two phrases: “Girls Gone West 2011,” and “Dude, You’re Gettin’ a Dell.” I didn’t get the Dell part, but now I do. Apparently, these dude-you’re-gettin’-a-Dell commercials ran all the time back in the day. I missed out on that, but what I did not miss out on was the approximate 1,376 times the phrase “Dude, you’re gettin’ a Dell” was uttered.

If you’re confused, here’re a few examples:

Surfer Steve: “Do you think that guy could possibly be any more fucked up?”

Ari: “Dude, he’s gettin’ a Dell.”

BizzaroJeff: “I can’t really remember the conversation which led you to begin calling me Fake Jeff (which later became BizarroJeff).”

Lorin: “It doesn’t matter, man. We’re all gettin’ Dells.”

Pick your own variation. It happened.

Anyhoo, we sat around and swapped stories, such as the pig-roast benefit turned chicks-with-dicks oddity that Ari got conned into attending or the best-hurricane-party-ever gathering Lorin had (everyone got Dells). Best of all, however, was the sheer presence of Dakota Fanning. Picture Dakota Fanning dressed in ‘90s grunge attire with an inside-out Vans baseball cap, mirror sunglasses, a straggly beard, and the dingiest, scarecrowiest dirty-blond hair you can imagine. Now insert 17 kinds of psychedelic drugs into his system, and if you’re not equal parts entertained by the words coming out of his mouth/concerned for the functioning level of most of his major organs, then there’s something the matter with you.

His presence in the shelter tent kicked off with a scary attempt to walk across the circle of chairs and sit in one; here was not much to be said for Dakota’s coordination on this fine afternoon. Once he was seated, though, he began uttering one-liners while clutching his hat and laughing hysterically. Some of the more token of his statements were:

“Dude, you guys are so crazy. How is it possible that this is all happening?” After this he probably tore his abdomen with a three-minute laugh. There was also:

“Do you guys have any idea how the world made this all work?” And:

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep with the commissioner’s wife that night in St. Louis, but it is how I became the commissioner.” Finally:

“Man the only way you can figure out what’s goin’ on is to hide under cars and jump out as people are coming so you can look into their eyes and see if they’re lookin’ into yours.”

Dakota claimed he’d never seen Phish, and didn’t have tickets to any of the two remaining two nights. He continued to ponder the likelihood of “making it all happen” and I foolishly tried to explain to him that he needed to get to the box office and buy one, but he wasn’t interested.

A collection of substances circulated throughout this shelter, and while initially Dakota was skipped in the rotation, it was ultimately decided to include him when he kept reminding everyone that sometimes people tell him he looks like Gary Sinise. It was then protocol to get a Sinise line out of Dakota every time something was passed to him, which was nothing shy of priceless.

Finally, someone mentioned that their mother had Restless Leg Syndrome, and he probably laughed for two straight minutes about how much that would suck. He then bent his legs at the knees and raised his feet above his waist and flailed his legs about as an interpretation of what RLS looked like. He physically could not keep his arms from flapping, though, and about a five-minute ordeal was made trying to get him to keep them still. Not a dry eye in the house.

Anyway, we had a few more drinks, heard some random songs from Ari’s iPod -– which was attached to this mini, handheld stereo –- and she imitated this girl she saw at a wedding who carried one around above her shoulder, pressed to her ear at a wedding reception while hired music was played for attendees. We were led to believe that that girl had already gotten a Dell.

As show time approached, we separated back into our appropriate troops, and headed towards the venue. Hanging out with that pack, though, on that Phish-weekend Saturday, was one of the best times I’ve had in ages.

More shenanigans at the entry, as the staff had figured out the hole-punch catastrophe from Friday night, and folks with seats were angling to get their floor wristbands. In one of my efforts, my phone flew out of my hand and broke into three pieces on the sidewalk, which always makes for some good, embarrassing times. Device reassembled, I made a beer-inside deal with the dude –- name escapes me -– I stood behind, and voila: wristband. While procuring said beverage, however, I lost my people, and was again solo on the floor for first set.

I made it a point to stop moving forward where the crowd thickened, and stood behind a pair of gents who, at lights, retrieved some of the contents of what appeared to be an entire cigarette pack full of doobies. They were select about sharing, but not shy about it.

I’ve really enjoyed listening to TypeIIcast since they began (Editor's Note: If you haven't checked them out, do so. Now.), but it’s done a weird thing to my head in terms of Phish criticism. I tend to love what gets hated, and get a little too meta overall when setlists are developing. There’s probably not more hate for one particular song than “Possum” right now, largely due to the frequency with which it’s been played this tour, and most of it comes from Stephen Olker. When the first notes of “Possum” rang out I thought of his commentary, and made a fleeting effort to be open about the band’s selection.

Frankly, I thought they crushed it. It’s only been two years since my last “Possum” and based on my commentary from Friday’s show, I should’ve been agitated at getting another one so soon, but this version had great energy, and for my money, was a fine second-night opener.

“The Moma Dance” had some nice Trey funk/Page clav, and, on the whole, admirable syncopation amongst the four. It segued right into “The Wedge.” I was super-stoked for this number as, at its roots, are some down-home, feel-good vibes that come out of -- at least in this version -- a studio-similar beginning. Phish did an excellent job of building into a mellow-yet-high energy jam in “Wedge” and returned, spot on, to the melodic refrain just a few beats before its end. Loved it.

I had the same feeling I mentioned with “Stealing Time,” that I do for “Ocelot.” It’s a little hokey, but still a very digable song. This segued into “The Divided Sky.” Forget the Eric Wyman hate. This song has its place, and its place was as sandwich meat atop the bread of “Ocelot.” The crowd was rewarded with a great solo, and again going against the grain of my feel for Friday night, I’ve seen “Divided” eight times, but I can’t recall a version I didn’t enjoy.

“Funky Bitch” is never a letdown in my book. Gotta love Mike on vocals in this one as well as the way they undeniably shred it nearly every time out. Page destroyed his early solo, and he was also lights out during Trey’s end-of-jam segment.

Up next was “Axila.” In the relationships-with-songs vein, I feel inclined to mention that Hoist has always had an odd flavor on my palette, as, having really developed relationships with the first four studios by the time it dropped in ’94, it totally through me for a loop; it was definitely not what I expected. This is always a good thing with Phish, and I dig the album, but it still caught me off guard, even though, album-to-album, the previous four were completely different from one another.

“Axila, Part II,” to me, has a place between “Riker’s Mailbox” and “Lifeboy,” and little elsewhere. I’ve never seen it live, and probably wouldn’t be all that moved by it if I did. That said, this was my third “Axila” and I always equate hearing it to giving one’s self the Stranger. It segued into “Llama” with a wicked-high energy right out of the gate. It’s never been one of my favorites, but I was getting into it and then the jam went atonal/stupid-fast for a few, which threatened to mess with me bad. Luckily, it was short-lived.

This was probably a good time for a slow song, and “Fast Enough for You” is one that’s –- along with “Horn” -– always been highly crankable when rocking my copy of Rift. “Wolfman’s Brother” is another one of those Phish-criticism conundrums in that I’ve heard a bunch of them, it’s never been one of my favorite cuts, but it always seems to be solid live. This version was no exception as Mike, Trey, and Page dug deep and early into their disco pockets for a filthy tube of Soul Glo. I mean, I actually heard the high-pitched cavitation of propellers from afar. Trey did some crazy picking after the halfway mark; it sounded like he was running a broken comb across the high end of his fret board, and it all culminated in a fantastic finish. A really solid close to a really solid first set had me amped for second set, and to top it off, I reunited with my people at intermission to finally actually be at the show with them.

Before moving on to set II, though, I have to share a brief story. It's the story about a couple positioned directly to my right throughout set I, a couple by the names of Zach and Danielle. Zach looked like your typical middle-of-the-road male Phishhead. He had the backpack, the baseball cap, the gleam of party time in his eye. Danielle looked like she'd left the house anticipating White Zin and sushi, but instead got a night full of Dick's. The short-and-sweet version was that she looked bitterly unhappy to be there, and I kept trying to ignore her energy. I could do so no longer, though, when I heard them talking in almost-arguing fashion.

"I mean it," Danielle said. "They. Suck."

I decided not to look back at them for a while because this was troubling. She could've meant any number of things, but the most obvious prevented me from ignoring any longer.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Who did you mean when you said that someone sucked?"

"Phish," she said, without hesitation. "They suck."

Now, she kind of smiled for a millisecond when she said this, but I felt like she was serious.

"How many times," I leaned back in, "have you seen Phish?"

"This is actually my first time," she said.

"I was gonna guess that," I said, "but then figured you'd correct me with some larger number."

I went back to successfully ignoring the energy, but couldn't help but look over as Zach made multiple attempts to cuddle-dance with Danielle and smooch her. She returned the efforts with deadpan denials and sidesteps to get out of his backpack-encumbered reach. A few minutes later, Zach tapped me on the shoulder.

"Dude," he said. "My girlfriend thinks you're pissed at her for saying Phish sucks."

"Whatever," I said. "To each her own."

"No," he said. "You don't get it. She doesn't hate Phish. She likes listening to them, but wanted to see what their show was all about. Really, though, she likes listening to (Note: He listed two or three electronica bands, each of which name escapes me. For all I know they were Swimming with Dolphins and Love is Electric.)

Danielle quickly interjected.

" I do not like Love is Electric," she said in my ear, then murmured something at Zach through gritted teeth.

For the next six or seven minutes, she incessantly texted people from her BlackBerry, as though she were making plans, letting them know how the show could not end soon enough. One thing that was cool, though, was that she had this inflatable pig with her, and at one point I told her I wanted to get a picture of her pig at setbreak so I could send it to my wife.

"My wife loves pigs," I said.

"Great then," she said. "We'll get a picture of the pig so you can send it to your wife."

"If you're still here," I said.

"I will be," she said.

This was the perfect indicator that she would not be, but nevertheless, after a while, some dude turned around and began dirty dancing up close on Danielle's nice jeans. She kind of shoved him away and he came back for more. This repeated a couple more times.

"Do you know him?" I was curious.

"Yes," she said. "He's a friend of my boyfriend's."

The friend reappeared for a quick grind on Danielle's clean jeans, and she tilted the pig, which was vertically positioned, its back to her chest, hind side up, fingered its anus and pointed at the friend.

I didn't know if this meant that Danielle wanted her boyfriend's friend to later sodomize the pig, if he'd already done so, if it meant that she was looking forward to some post-concert double penetration, or if she simply thought the friend was an asshole.

Zach and Danielle then stood face to face for five or six minutes, clearly, based on the intermittent flapping of Zach's arms, arguing. I'd finally had enough of them, when Zach put a hand on my shoulder.

"Man," he said, "it's my birthday, and she bought me these tickets last minute, and wanted to make me happy."

"She should've suggested you bring a friend, then," I said.

He shrugged, and when the house lights came on for intermission, Danielle was nowhere to be found.

“Down with Disease” started off the second half of the evening, and starting set two with a “Disease,” even though set one left me feeling high, was a bit curious to me. It seems to be getting a ton of play lately, and, like I said about the previous night’s “Sneakin’,” I didn’t imagine they could do much better –- ever, really –- than the “DwD” --> “What’s the Use?” from last year’s first night at Alpine. And then, not too long into it, they dropped the tempo big time, went into this space groove, and took that right into “Tweezer.”

It’s no secret that this is one of their -– pardon the Phish cliché –- big jam vehicles right now, and I have no problem with that whatsoever. Gone, it seems, are the days where “Tweezer” would go into the atonal abyss and destroy the minds of youth, and here –- hopefully to stay -– are the days where “Tweezer” can channel its inner “ground control to Major Tom” and go deep in the oddity of space.

This “Tweezer” promised to do just that as it featured some fat, bubbly Mike plucks while Page rode a rickety tricycle that had untuned xylophone planks for spokes. Crazy good. It ranked up there with the most beautiful of "Tweezer"s I've ever seen, and near the end, made its way into a dance-with-your-wife kinda groove.

I’m not familiar with TV on the Radio, but the TypeIIcast crew played a portion of a “Golden Age” jam a few episodes back, and it sounded like a mess of psychedelic wind chimes in a tornado. They hyped the shit out of for reasons I could only deem as that it was unique. TotR was in Kansas City a few Friday nights ago, and it seemed like a lot of folks were pumped for that show. I haven’t spoken to anyone about it, but this was another one of those song beginnings where I was plain-faced and limply dancing, a la "Sparks" on Friday night.

Don’t get me wrong: I didn’t not enjoy it; it simply surprised me as the segue spot that began with “Disease” --> “Tweezer.” It did have a good energy about it, though, one that appeared Trey-inspired, and in all honesty, live music doesn’t get better with the Chairman of the Boards laying a bed of bloated-organ riffs. Well, it actually does when it’s followed by a quaint solo from said Chairman, but who’s counting.

I’ve talked about relationships with songs a ton, and in this series of reviews, Hoist songs have been a theme, but now it’s time to give The Story of the Ghost a little attention. “Golden Age” went into “Limb by Limb,” which I love. As a matter of fact, there’s probably not a Tom Marshall-penned lyric that I don’t love, and probably not a cut from Ghost that I don’t highly admire either.

This “Limb” featured a heavy-noted-but-gorgeous Trey solo with Fishman thundering away at the kit. I typically don’t have much to say about Fishman but this has always been a strong song for Greezy Fizeek. I’ve also never dug “Kill Devil Falls.” In fact, if I’m listening to Joy, I’m prone to skip it. I was bummed when they opened with it at Toyota Park for my first show in over six years. My sister loves it, though, thinks it reminds her of “old-school Phish,” which is a baffling notion to me. I did, however, love that it got play at the 2020 Winter Olympic Men’s Ice Hockey Games and during the 2011 Stanley Cup Playoffs (all occasions at Rogers Centre in Vancouver, British Columbia), and the TypeII crew did play a clip of it recently that had some impressive jamming in it, so I tried to be open-minded about it when it began.

That said, some delicious Page tickling opened up a nice “Falls” jam, and when things are firing on all cylinders for these guys, it’s hard to go any direction but heavenly. The solo that Page so succinctly started levitated this jam and propelled it into the night Colorado sky. One of the eight billion reasons I love Phish: They can make you an instant lover out of a song you’ve previously avoided.

Phish.net always lists it as “Also Sprach Zarathustra,” but to me it’s always going to be known by its moniker: “2001.” I could write 5,000 words about the awesomeness that is this jam, what it does for sets regardless of placement, and how I’ve never met a version I didn’t like. Instead, I’ll keep it to two: dancin’ shoes.

I lied. More meatballs from Mike, Trey skankin’ like he’s trying out for a ska band, and Page warming up the rocket boosters really got this one moving in a booty-shake style that segued nicely into “Light.” This track, as the TypeII kids say, is another new jam vehicle for the band. One day it might move me, but a) it’s one of my least favorites from Joy (maybe tied with “Falls”), and b) this version was almost over before it did anything –- Page synthing out -– for me, which is fine, really, as it served as a stepping stone back into “Disease.”

The return to “Dw/D,” however, was here one second, gone the next, but it stayed Hoisty and went into “Julius.” I heard the opening and felt an immediate 50/50 split: one part –- really?; one part –- could be badass. It was the latter. Very dancehall, massive energy, one of those picture-perfect studio-to-live translations of which other musical acts can only dream. Phish, of course, added an even larger momentum push and extended jam to this studioesque rendition.

“Julius” bled into “Cavern,” and I’m not sure any cut from the band’s archive has ever left me so opinionless. I did dig the rubber-band slaps from Mike, though, and it’s usually short-lived, in this case, a segue into “Run Like an Antelope.” “Antelope” is up there with “Split Open and Melt” in terms of always wielding a heavy might-scare-the-shit-out-of-you sword. When I hear it start, there’s a part of me that wants to hide. There’s also a part of me that wonders if they’ll go fun and face melt with it. I thought I’d stick around and find out and the end result was that I must apologize for what is heretofore emitted from my keyboard as I’m still trying to piece together the remnants of my melted eyeballs.

It’s possible that this “Antelope” was the perfect mix of not-too-long (therefore lower end of the potential-danger fulcrum) and spewing-lava intensity. Chris Kuroda (Editor’s Note: Sorry to quote The Social Network here, but…) –- “you better lawyer up” because I’m holding you responsible for these two jars of liquid retina I brought home from Dick’s.

For the encore, it was “Sleeping Monkey” – soft spot; ‘nuff said, and “Tweezer Reprise,” which is always fun, and as a few of my friends who no longer prioritize seeing Phish used to say: “Crescendooooooooooooooooo!”

Amazing night. Two strong, strong sets. Left the venue feeling very happy, already sad that it would end tomorrow.
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Untimely Reviews: Phish, Dick's Sporting Goods Park, Commerce City, CO 09/03/11, Part I

If you caught my review for night one of Phish at Dick’s Sporting Goods Park in Commerce City, CO, you might have guessed that when I woke up Saturday morning, I had a considerable-sized hangover. It was one of those headache-oriented hangovers that let you know an hour before you actually wake and open your eyes that it’s going to be a rough start to the day. I had plans to sleep a little bit of that off, but thanks to DiscoBiscuit Jeff from Philly, who speaks at one volume and one volume only –- loud -- my plan was altered.

At about 7:40 a.m. Mountain, DBJ wandered into our campsite trying to score something, anything, from Uncle Jake. It started off as breakfast -– for which he was offering $5. DBJ was told that our crew needed to eat first, but that if there were any leftovers, then no problem. He was back within moments trying to reassess the situation (Editor’s Note: Uncle Jake was the only one up and out of his tent, and thus far he’d fried a few strips of bacon and begun heating water for coffee.), and basically the same conversation was repeated.

When it was clear that there was still no breakfast for DBJ to have, he asked about having one of our plastic cups. Uncle Jake gave him a cup, thinking (I assume) that this would make him go away for a while. Instead, these were some of his top-volume lines.

“Yeah, bro. My name’s Jeff,” he said (for the second time). “I’m from Philly” (which we already knew) “and the Disco Biscuits are really my thing” (also a repeat). “I’ve seen Phish 89 times but I’ve seen the Biscuits more than a hundred.”

Good job, DBJ.

“But, yeah,” he said. “That’s really awesome what you’re doing, cooking for your people, but for real, bro -– if you had anything to spare, I’d totally throw you some cash.”

Dear DiscoBiscuit Jeff from Philly:

Take said cash, plan ahead, and go to the store.

Signed,
Everyone

He wasn’t done, though.

“So, did you have a good show last night, bro?”

“Yeah, man,” said Uncle Jake. “Real good time.”

“Dude, that was so tight,” said DBJ. “Check this out, bro: Every song they played started with the letter ‘S’.”

Thanks for the news flash, Philly. Now a word from our sponsors.

“Yeah,” said Uncle Jake. “Pretty crazy.”

“Dude, it was more than crazy,” said DBJ. “They played ‘Sparkle,’ and ‘Simple,’ and ‘Sanity.’”

I’d had enough.

“Know what else they played, bro? ‘Silent in the Morning.’” My head throbbed with each hollered syllable.

“Yeah, man,” he said. “Totally.”

DBJ went on talking up his schpeel to Uncle Jake. Loudly. I was contemplating getting out of the tent.

“Know what my favorite song from last night was bro? It was called Shut the Fuck Up.”

This made him mad.

“A better song was You Better Man the Fuck Up, dude,” he said.

“Yeah, bro,” I said. “That’s gonna get you some free breakfast real quick.”

“Aw, dude,” he said. “I was just messin’ with you, but whatever, man. If you don’t like it, you shouldn’t’ve come.”

With that, he was gone. But I was up.

DBJ was back by later, and it was clear -– mostly because one eye was literally looking the other direction -– that he had not yet slept. He was covered in a light coat of dirt, sporting a backwards hat with those obnoxiously fat, always-untied high-top sneakers that Grubby McDorkboxes like him usually rock. Apparently, he’d lost his cup and was in search of another, but he didn’t pause to ask our camp.

Anyway, Uncle Jake, Emily, and the nephews had plans to go into town and see some sites. Originally, they were going to tour around Red Rocks, but it was discovered that Carlos Santana was playing there Saturday evening. With George Lopez. (Note: Really? Does that actually happen?) So, it was determined that venue crews and staff would likely be setting up, so they headed northwest to Boulder and Estes Park instead. Having seen all of those places plenty, I stayed behind.

Once I’d washed the taste of Pabst-brined gerbil out of my mouth, I showered, changed and set out to see who was who on grounds to enjoy this weekend of Phish. It was sort of an aimless wander, but I wanted to get 10 subjects, and once a subject agreed to a quick chat, they had a choice of question sets: a), b), or c).

Taylor and Steve were first. They chose set a).

1) Where are you from? “San Francisco.”

2) How many times have you seen Phish? Taylor: “22”; Steve: “50.”

3) What do you do for work? Taylor: “non-profit, children’s mental health”; Steve: “student at Stanford.”

4) Complete this sentence: This best way to spend time when not doing anything Phish is…: joint-effort answer: “other music, i.e. Dark Star, Govt. Mule, the Disco Biscuits” (Editor’s Note: I badly wanted to ask if they knew Jeff from Philly, but did not.), “The Dead.”

5) What’s your favorite thing about the Phish culture? Taylor: “Everyone’s so positive. There’s a sense of togetherness. We’ve been on campgrounds for other festivals where we didn’t even know our neighbors.” Steve: “Other lots are all disjointed. Everyone’s so ‘I need this' and 'you’ve got that' and 'aarrghhh.’”

(Note: Steve was a little wary at first, wanting to know if this interview would “make its way onto the Internet,” which I assured him it would. He was also keen to some Thank You Phish Day that was supposedly taking place that day, where there had been plans of sky writing a message to the band and handing out free doses to the crowd. I didn’t see any of those things, but if I was oblivious, then, Thanks, Phish!)

“Melanie” was second. She went with set c). She also gets extra quotes around her name/locale because she was interested in being cute, and by "cute" I mean giving a a fake name and locale.

1) Where are you from? “’Tampa.’”

2) Name three bands on your iPod or in your CD player not named Phish. “Eric Hutchinson, Tool, Dean Martin.”

3) Do you have an opinion on Bob Dylan? “Love him! Minnesotan! Woohoo!” (Note: This was apparently a shout-out to all her Tampa people from Minnesota.)

4) What do you make of all the Obama criticism? “Ohhhh-bama. That’s what I say.”

5) What’s the most important thing to teach kids? “Have fun.”

Up next was Daniel. He, too, went with c).

1) Where are you from? “New York.”

2) Name three bands on your iPod or in your CD player not named Phish. “Ali Farka Toure, Emancipator, Holy Ghost.”

3) Do you have an opinion on Bob Dylan? “I love Bob Dylan.”

4) What do you make of all of the Obama criticism? “Obama had a tough road to go when he was elected. The criticism is out of control. I mean, he can only do so much. He’s not a miracle worker. I think he’s doin’ alright.”

5) What’s the most important thing to teach kids? “Sustainability.”

Fourth was Chloe. Again, c).

1) Where are you from? “I live in Lakewood, but I’m from Boston.” (Note: I asked her if she was stoked about the Bruins championship win, and she showed me her Boston inner-wrist tattoo.)

2) Name three bands on your iPod or in your CD player not named Phish. “The Grateful Dead, Boards of Canada, Pink Floyd.”

3) Do you have an opinion on Bob Dylan? “Bob Dylan’s a super-poet. He can’t fuckin’ talk anymore. No, I mean, he’s like the first rapper. I just wish he could still sing.”

4) What do you make of all the Obama criticism? “I love Obama. He’s doing what I want for weed, so he’s cool with me. I voted for him because I think he’s a good person. They’re good people. It’s better to have a good person in office than a good politician.

5) What’s the most important thing to teach kids? “To love themselves, to be themselves, to always be true to themselves.”

Lara fell in the five-hole. She chose b).

1) Where are you from? “Denver.”

2) What’s your biggest musical influence outside of Phish? “The Grateful Dead.”

3) What book did you most recently read? “The Help by Kathryn Stockard.”

4) What’s the strangest place you’ve ever had sex? “I don’t know. I’m not very adventurous, I guess. In a tent?”

5) What’s one thing for which you want to be remembered? “Changing the lives of children.” (Note: Yes, Lara’s a teacher.)

In the six spot was Tim. He also chose b).

1) Where are you from? “Chicago.”

2) What’s your biggest musical influence outside of Phish? “The Beastie Boys.”

3) What book did you most recently read? “The Life of Pi by Yann Martel.”

4) What’s the strangest place you’ve ever had sex? “I don’t know. Oh, in a nasty lake.”

5) What’s one thing for which you want to be remembered? “I don’t really care if I’m remembered.”

Lee was batting seventh, made for three consecutive b) picks.

1) Where are you from? “Minneapolis.”

2) What’s your biggest musical influence outside of Phish? “The Beatles.”

3) What book did you most recently read? "Big Sur by Jack Kerouac.”

4) What’s the strangest place you’ve ever had sex? “At a festival.”

5) What’s one thing for which you want to be remembered? “I don’t know...bein’ happy.

Hannah and Christopher were eighth. They went with a).

1) Where are you from? (Editor’s Note: I either forgot to ask them where they’re from or didn’t write it down, but I’m pretty certain they’re from the Denver area. What I do know is that they’re engaged (and if memory serves as of December with plans to wed next September) and will celebrate in Breckenridge.)

2) How many Phish shows have you seen? Christopher: “102”; Hannah: “1.”

3) What do you do for work? Hannah: “marketing sales account manager”; Christopher: “finance.”

4) Complete this sentence: This best way to spend time when not doing anything Phish is…: simultaneous answer: “Furthur!” They then added, “or snowboard or ski or hike 14ers. Live life!”

5) What’s your favorite thing about the Phish culture? Hannah: “my fiancé”; Christopher: “friends.” Hannah added that she also “thought the letter-of-the-alphabet show was cool.”

Up next: Lorin, who went with b).

1) Where are you from? “Connecticut, but I live in New York.”

2) What’s your biggest musical influence outside of Phish? “The Grateful Dead.”

3) What book did you most recently read? “Democracy by Joan Didion.”

4) What’s the strangest place you’ve ever had sex? “My friend’s second-floor porch.”

5) What’s one thing for which you wish to be remembered? “Always being able to stand up for myself.”

Jon and Jessica closed it out, also with b).

1) Where are you from? “Seattle, by way of Orange County.”

2) What’s your biggest musical influence outside of Phish? Jessica: “Pink Floyd”; Jon: “Neko Case.”

3) What book did you most recently read? Jessica: “Clash of Kings by George R. R. Martin”; Jon: “Clan of the Cave Bear by Jean M. Auel.”

4) What’s the strangest place you’ve ever had sex? Mutual response: “The kitchen.”

5) What’s one thing for which you wish to be remembered? Jon: “Being hospitable, generous”; Jessica: “being reliable.”

So this was the little interview experiment, which was a ton of fun, something I'll repeat at future shows given the opportunity. Check back tomorrow for part two of Saturday's review, which will include some more campground shenanigans, and, uh -- oh, yeah -- the show.

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Monday Miscellany: Who'll Suck Most?; or Maybe They Should Just Play Each Other 16 Times

Right quick, both House of Georges teams have yet to win a game in the first pre-season to follow franchise overhauls. Crystal ball says it'll be a long season. Linkless highlights after the jump.

Thus far this pre-season, the Denver Broncos have seen their number one receiver suspended, Kyle Orton booed, witnessed him throw a hearty number of picks, and seen Chris Simms, son of a giant pussy, get hurt. They also saw Jay Cutler come into their home (last night) and light up team Orange and Gold.

The Kansas City Chiefs, on the other hand, have seen their number one receiver demoted, repremoted, their number one quarterback sprain his MCL, which of course comes one week after a two-week-long quarterback controversy, and their offense, basically, fail to do much of anything. This last bit resulted in Chan Gailey, offensive coordinator, being relieved of his duties this morning.

So, at a collective 0-6, what do these teams have going for them?

The answer: good kickers.

Yee. Haw.
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Friday Funnies: AFC Inc(W)est?

I'm not sure whether or not to rally the now-dead Tony DiPardo TD Pack Band or quote some Rick O'Casek. Well, okay. I really do: "Let them brush your rock n' roll hair (Josh McD), let the good times roll."

Stuff's gettin' weird around here, no doubt. I mean, the Kansas City Chiefs went on a near-five-week hush operation while trying to figure out who would replace Carl Peterson as general manager. In the midst of that, the Denver Broncos Shana-can the Rat. Then speculations of the Chiefs hiring New England Patriots Vice President of Player Personnel Scott Pioli circulate, and there were rumors about him being here, being there, being interviewed, what have you. Adam Teicher of The Kansas City Star then reports that all of those rumors were false. Then the rumors built steam again, and there were a few that suggested that Pioli would be coming in and bringing Patriots Offensive Coordinator Josh McDaniels with him.

The Broncos then hire McDaniels; the Chiefs hire Pioli. Denver wastes no time getting Mike Nolan as defensive coordinator, and the Chiefs revert to mum with anything associated with the status of their coaches.

All the while, us pavement-pounding House of Georges beat writers cover this material -- or as they say about Blogtopia, report what the media has already published with our whizzy links and ripped-off photos -- only to find out that this esteemed crew of professional, paid journalists is ripping off our efforts. Then, in a seeming whirlwind, I quote one of my colleagues regarding the nature of special teams, and as I'm still combing my wind-smattered hair, the Broncos are preparing to announce that they'll hire Chiefs Special Teams Coach Mike Priefer.

Now, just yesterday morning, some of the TalkRadios spoke of how the NFL prohibits lateral moves among teams. I suppose that's a good rule, one that avoids coach pirating. So, wouldn't this fall into that category?

Ah. I see. The Broncos have a way around this:

"Priefer has a year left on his contract in Kansas City, but the Broncos are expected to give him the title of special-teams coordinator, so the move would be a promotion and, thus, one Priefer would be able to make."

Don't be mistaken. I'm not angry about this possibility. I am freakin' stoked. You can look here and see that, based on Rick Gosselin's 2007 numbers, that would be a three-slot improvement for Denver. A 2008 fantasy-style pre-season look shows that the Broncos make the top 20. The Chiefs do not. I'm sure, somewhere on these CyberWebs, there's a list of the 2008 special teams rank, but I cannot find it. Suffice to say, that if the Broncos feel that Priefer's an improvement, I'm a believer. Not necessarily because I believe them, but because that unit, title promotion or not, will be a total disaster.

Since this shit has gotten so bizarre, I can't imagine what will happen next. Jon Gruden's out of work. He could come to the Chiefs, I suppose. It's either that or in an undying fit of wound mendage, Al Davis convinces Chucky and the Rat to come work for him. How'd that be for a GM/head coach tandem. I can barely picture the faces...
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Insert Hilarious Whinny Sound In Lieu of Headline

Well, not much ado in the world of sports this morning. Guess we'll just have to have a peek into the world of sustained excellence over yonder in Bronco Country. For starters, I stumbled across this mildly dated, interesting tidbit.

Then there's the more current, localized slant on all things Bronco. Oh, Kiszla. Say it ain't so.

When finished sniffling and weeping over that, this is what it sounds like, when Doves cry.

It would appear that both Denver rags are angry with Tanahan.

Geez, even some of the retired Doncs are in hot water.

Even ol' Herc' Rock from the Sun has thrown down the ultimatum.

Leaves one to wonder what the players think...



...or does it?
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