Click Here For Part I
The Best Jams Of 2013 – Part II
Down With Disease -> Undermind> Light -> Sneakin’ Sally Thru The Alley -> 2001
A meaty segment of fully-flowing Phish, this 50-minute opening sequence is undoubtedly one of the most connected musical moments of the entire year. And like Jones Beach’s hour-long groove session, this chunk of improv is clearly more about Phish’s connection to itself. Save for the underworldly dip within Undermind, much of what’s played here is fluid and energetic. Exemplified in the bulbous jam that builds from Sneakin’ Sally, this is the sound of a Phish celebrating the trials won, foundations set, and conflicts overcome in the first three weeks of tour, rather than pushing forth overtly challenging music. Pure joy continuously emits from the stage here as the band celebrates their most accomplished run of the year, to that point. From here on out, there would be no more uncertainty. This is the division between the pre-Tahoe-Tweezer-Phish, and the latter.
A moment of profound unity between both band and audience as each rediscovered once again what was truly possible in the medium of a Phish show. Is it the best jam they’ve ever played? No. But it is the most important piece of music the band has played since the 07/29/1997 Gumbo or the 11/17/1997 Ghost. It’s that revolutionary moment where the band is clearly searching for some ambiguous sound, some indefinable goal, and unquestionably uncovers something totally new about themselves in the process. Say what you will about the after-effects of the ‘woo’s,’ what’s clear to everyone involved is that without the Tahoe Tweezer, none of the brilliance that emerged with such stunning ease and consistency throughout the Fall would have been possible.
Rock & Roll -> Steam
Celebratory melodic jamming as a singular jam. On the second night of a three-night run in the intimate halls of San Francisco’s Bill Graham Civic Auditorium, after an opening show in which the band essentially took a – much-deserved – full-show victory lap following the Tahoe breakthrough, Phish unleashed a jam that displayed their evolved cubism, along with their innate communicative abilities, all under the umbrella of a reverent melodic passage that spoke volumes to the musical peak they found themselves on. Mike and Trey trade licks and leads throughout, and seemingly every trill Trey offers, Mike responds back with a perfectly placed meatball-riff that envelops and fits the immediate moment of the jam brilliantly. For all the hyperbole that’s been invoked to describe the recent Fall Tour, perhaps the most incredible thing about it is the fact that its best jams are unquestionably the simplest ones. A direct effect of the peak the band discovered via the Tahoe Tweezer, deliberateness, faith in simple, melodic music, and a trust in the communicative direction of each member, all helped to shape the band’s October peak. Each of these qualities is heard in their purest form throughout this Rock & Roll. If we only knew then what we know now…
Energy> Runaway Jim
As a rule: In 3.0, you never miss a Sunday show. On the final Sunday of the Summer Tour, Phish crafted a complete show that is as much a self-referential statement as it is an evolutionary step forward. Capped off by a 30-minute segment of music that ushered in its second set, the Energy> Runaway Jim is Phish’s 2013 Summer Tour in its essential form. Fusing a 2013 debut – which emerged as The Song Of Summer – with one of their oldest classics, the band simultaneously reflected on a tour that had set the foundation for future musical successes – while also forcing the band to overcome numerous external struggles – and looked ahead to the (at the time) unknown heights of Fall. Building outwards from the structure of Energy via a rising theme, the entire jam changed on a dime at 6:39 when Trey imposed his wha into the mix. What followed was a rhythmically induced wall of sound that flowed into a piece of seedy urbaneness defined by Page’s Lydian riff from 9:49 – 10:11. Trey would systematically – and brilliantly – mimic, and then distort this riff to the jam’s fading conclusion.
In Runaway Jim, Trey did his best Hendrix impression since 09/01/12’s Prince Caspian, as the band proved the limitless potential for Jim – whenever the band is keen on letting it off its leash, that is. Rooted in sinister, bluesy psychedelia, this jam felt like a peek back into Fall ’97, when Trey would regularly indulge in his rock star fantasies. Yet in the context of 2013 the jam takes on a much more interesting – and necessary – accord, considering just how far Trey has come as a guitarist since 2008, and how he commanded many of the best jams throughout the Fall Tour. Rather than imposing his will because of a lack of support from his bandmates – or, in effort to simply kill time – it’s clear Trey needed to prove to himself, to the band, and, to his fans, that he was capable of shredding in an improvisational setting again like in the days of old. In a tour in which so many of the band’s classics were given new life, it was quite fitting the tour would conclude with yet another pushing the band to such heights.
There’s that moment in every single jam where everyone – band and audience alike – collectively realizes we’re suddenly in wide open, untapped, and unknown terrain. It may come via a reliable Set II opening vehicle, or in a totally unexpected song/slot in the show. Wherever and whenever it comes, the moment is ultimately defined by an immediate percolating of the senses, and a rush of euphoria, as the stakes of a show suddenly take upon unknown – in many ways, indefinable – potential. This moment is, for many, the entire reason why we see Phish. When that moment happens to come in a song steeped in as much historical lore as Harry Hood is, however, it raises a show to an entirely different level of excitement, sentiment, and lasting resonance.
While it’s clear here that Trey’s dedicating much of his energy to painting a backdrop of sound throughout the initial post-“Thank you, Mr. Hood…” section, we’re essentially still in typical Hood-ville until 9:37. From that point on, however, the jam enters completely unknown territory like it hadn’t since 07/31/03. A rock-based jam ensues, sounding in many ways like a leftover from the previous night’s Runaway Jim, before building into a full-on call-and-respond woo segment. Then, when it seems as though the band could momentarily snake back into Hood, they instead move into a more rhythmically-oriented realm, crafting a mosaic, where one member’s leads are effortlessly supplanted by another’s. Ambient-based jamming enters the fray, and suddenly the jam has become blissful. Abstract-cubism is the order, and, for a while, between 15ish and 17ish minutes, it feels as though we’re back in Dick’s 2012. Connecting on a dreamlike, plinko-esque jam that sounds like the denouement of a soon-to-be-unfinished jam, Trey plucks the Hood theme out of thin air, and the band rebuilds back to a subdued peak.
A creative palette of themes and varying musical passages, this jam harkened back to the band’s most prolific exploration within Hood from 07/26/03. A clear statement to the band’s M.O. moving forward in 2013, this Harry Hood opened the doors even further to what was possible in the coming Fall, here, coming on the last night of Summer Tour proper.
Chalk Dust Torture
Just listen to the segment from 10:02 – 12:36 and try – seriously try – to resist boogieing your ass off wherever you may be. Of all the moments of musical connectivity the band found themselves in throughout the entire 2013 Summer Tour, perhaps none felt as effortless, as mechanical, as choreographed, or as pre-planned as the immediate peak jam segment out of the Set II Opening Chalk Dust Torture from 08/31. A year to the date after their revolutionary FUCK YOUR FACE show, a night after informing their fans that MOST SHOWS SPELL SOMETHING, Phish connected on an aggressive, set opening jam, that systematically pointed the way towards the Fall.
Listen to the aforementioned segment again. Within it you can hear the first hints of what will become Fuego. What’s more is how deftly the band is able to hook up through rhythmically induced passages of deliberate playing, the very kind that would come to define all the highs of the looming Fall Tour.
Perhaps we couldn’t fully understand it at the time. Perhaps we weren’t aware that the band really just wanted to use Dick’s 2013 as a weekend-long celebration. But it’s clear now that this Chalk Dust was an essential moment that separated summer from fall in the same way the Toronto Down With Disease separated the East Coast Run from the West. A supremely confident statement from a band at the height of their powers once again, this Chalk Dust proved that all the foundational setting of early Summer were more than worth the patience required. And, just like in 2012, it was Chalk Dust that left perhaps the most lasting legacy on another memorable weekend at Dick’s.
 Listening back, there are just so many raw moments that harken back to the halcyon days of 1993 – 1998 when the band and audience engaged in the kinds of extended, abstract, absurdist, and inside-joke experiments that were both only possible at a Phish show, and made this whole cultural experiment feel that much smaller, and that much more unified and connected, even as it simultaneously widened as the word of the circus spread throughout upper-middle-class, white America.
A Few Examples:
10:20 – 13:30 — when Trey and Mike are both clearly so desperate to extend what, at this point, is just a standard 3.0, Tweezer-themed-Tweezer-jam, that they push atmospheric melodies outwards, building towards Trey’s rhythmic in-and-out fades, which – once Page catches on – leads to the hard-rock segment that defines the 13:42 – 16:06 section of the entire jam.
22:29 – 26:18 — Trey latches onto a deliberate riff which builds towards a gorgeous hose segment that would have single-handedly made this one of the elite jams of the year had it ended right then and there. No woo’s. No 30-minute barrier broken. No matter. This section of Trey-led riffing is among his most impressive playing of the entire year – in fact it’s a direct predecessor of that gorgeous, Allmans-esque jam that concludes the 10/29 Down With Disease – and would have been the single reason why – had the jam ended immediately after, as so many have throughout 3.0 – the Tahoe Tweezer would have still, at that point, been the longest jam of 3.0.
26:18 – 26:23 — This is, for all intents and purposes, the moment when the Tahoe Tweezer becomes THE Tahoe Tweezer. It’s all thanks to Page McConnell. He’s been following Trey’s lead for the past four minutes, and sensing – correctly – that the current theme is about to wind down, inserts the celebratory melody which, once Trey latches on at 26:24, becomes THE Tahoe Tweezer.
27:29 — The first WOO!
27:53 – 28:19 — Trey plays a riff that’s so driven, so celebratory, so deliberate, yet so thoughtless at the same time, so rooted in his purest feelings and emotions – from so deep in his heart – you can literally feel the shit-eating-grin spilling out across his face through your headphones. You can hear him realize right then and there just how big a deal this jam is. It’s not just the fact that it’s a great Tweezer to open a set. It’s not just the fact that this is the new longest jam of 3.0. It’s not just the fact that the band has allowed all their fears of playing deep into the unknown wash away. It’s not just the fact that the band is proving both to themselves and all their fans that they’re so locked in once again that they can play with an unending, limitless abandon, and still produce totally focused, driven, and unquestionably listenable, compositionally-sound music. It’s the fact that all these things were happening at once AND they’d latched onto a melody so contagious, so infectious, so rooted in the essential nature that has made music a communal and spiritual force for the entirety of human existence, that they’d spurred a wholly original conversation with their fans in the process. It’s the fact that if the entire goal of Phish’s entire existence – spontaneous moments of shared energy and musical brilliance resulting from carefully crafted compositions allowed to run wild – were boiled down to one moment in time, this moment would be it. That they discovered this through the peak in a Tweezer jam is all the more fitting.
32:46 – 35:07 — The Victory Lap. As if they even needed to keep playing following the woo’s. This is all Rock Star Trey here. Based loosely off the jam from Dear Mr. Fantasy, the band built towards one more massive peak – complete with Woo’s, because, why the fuck not at this point (???) – before coyly snaking back into Tweezer.
35:48 – 35:50 — Woo’s within the Tweezer-riff comedown. Fuck. This section is a lot like that loose and sloppy Psycho Killer that emerged from AC/DC Bag on 12/07/1997 as the denouement commenced upon Fall 1997. It’s so unserious, so ridiculous, so clear that whatever the band’s intentions were as they stepped on the stage for that night’s second set, they weren’t prepared for this. As Wax Banks said, “bag>psycho killer to open, seriously? they’re just dorking around at that point…”
36:09 – 36:47 — The final note. The final Woo. The fade. The band holds out this last note, systematically dementing it and burying it in the ground. It’s as if they don’t want to let it go. And why would they? If they only knew at that moment what this would ultimately build to…
 Obviously a point of immense contention. Certainly a subject for another essay, and another time. However, if you allow yourself the perspective that Fall 1997 was the last period – until now – when the band was both – A. Fully Committed to the idea of Phish, so much so that they spent a majority of their time exploring within their music to push it forward along a specific set of goals, and B. Neither succumbing to the overwhelming pressures of fame and the bloated organization they’d created by turning to drugs which led to a 11-13 year period of uncertainty, collapse, rebirth, and rebuilding, nor immersed in the necessary process of rebuilding everything that was lost in said period – then the notion that the band hasn’t played a piece of music that’s equally inspired, influenced, reassured, and pushed them further than the Tahoe Tweezer clearly has since some time in 1997, is both plausible, and completely accurate. None of this is said to dismiss the music of 1998 – 2012, of course.
 03/06/09, 06/07/09, 06/21/09, 11/01/09, 11/29/09, 06/27/10, 07/03/11, 09/04/11, 08/19/12, 09/02/12, 12/30/12, 07/14/13, 07/21/13, 08/04/13, 10/20/13, 10/27/13 are each both Sunday shows, and some of the best whole-shows the band has played since reuniting five years ago.
 It really can’t be emphasized enough how big an impact the rain that followed Phish throughout the Eastern half of the United States had on their playing, and presumably, their psyche. Out of the fourteen shows the band played from Bangor – Toronto, six were played up against torrential rainstorms, (07/07, 07/12, 07/14, 07/17, 07/19, 07/21) one had to be rescheduled completely, (Toronto) one had to be aborted some 13 minutes into the second set, (07/19) and another was nearly cancelled, only allowed to continue when the rains that poured relentlessly from the skies over Chicago, suddenly cleared (07/21). Throughout this stretch, you can hear the band’s increasing frustration in their inability to fully concentrate on their music in the face of such insolvent, yet unremarkable interferences. Be it Trey claiming the band was “practicing making safe music,” on 07/12, or Page and Trey’s clear frustration with being forced to evacuate the stage on 07/19 and 07/21, or the abrupt and constricted three-set show on 07/20, or Page’s endless gratitude towards their fans for their support on 07/22, one got the sense throughout those three weeks that many of the barriers between artist and fans were brought down as a result of extraneous issues.
 There’s that sensation that always accompanies a Set II opening Down With Disease, Tweezer, Crosseyed & Painless, or Rock & Roll (among others, but these in particular, especially in 3.0) where it feels like the band is giving us a knowing wink and a nod, as if to say, “here we go…”
 Think: 12/14/95 NICU, 07/10/99 Chalk Dust, 08/06/10 Cities, 07/01/12 Fee, or the 08/31/12 Undermind, for just a few examples.