Six Weeks to #60: Episode I

As my 60th Phish show approaches on Friday, 10/15/10, I decided to take a look back at the five other “milestone” shows I’ve seen over the last 14 years. Some were stellar, others were lacking, but they’re all a part of my history with the band.

Every Friday for the next six weeks, I’ll post an essay/review of shows #10, 20, 30, 40 and 50. Up first is my tenth show, Halloween ’98.

#10: 10/31/98 Thomas and Mack Center, Las Vegas, NV

1998 was a banner Phish year for me—I attended my first festival (Lemonwheel), Halloween, and New Year’s shows—and what began as a passion suddenly was hurtling towards obsession.

When a friend from college offered me his extra ticket for Halloween I certainly felt the urge, but as Ithaca, New York sits roughly 2400 miles east of Las Vegas, I didn’t really give the idea much serious thought. Two days before the Saturday show, however, a missive from e-savers (remember them?) clicked into my inbox, advertising cheap flights from Syracuse to Vegas. How could I resist?


I arrived at McCarran around 9:00 that Friday and decided against taking a cab (in hindsight, an epic mistake—the second set from 10/30/98 turned out to be a monster, one that I painfully regret missing to this day) in favor of hoofing it to the The Continental Club Hotel & Casino, where my compatriots Jeff and Alex had set up the day prior.

What looked on the map like a brief walk was actually two fairly grueling miles through the gusty desert with a heavy backpack atop my shoulders. I should’ve sped over to the Thomas & Mack for the remainder of the show, but instead I cruised around the Continental (now known as Terrible’s), which felt like one of Cousin Eddie’s ramshackle casinos from Vegas Vacation. Seriously: to call this place a dive would be to insult dives everywhere.


I was briefly pondering seeing the helmet-haired Vegas legend Cook E. Jarr when my friends burst in, raving about what an amazing show they’d just seen—the first “Long Cool Woman” in 15 years, the premiere of Jimmy Smith’s “Back at the Chicken Shack” and an acapella “Freebird” encore. Marvelous. Added bonus: I basically walked right past the venue on my way from the airport without realizing it.

The next day we tooled around the strip in Alex’s Saturn, abusing the P.A. he’d installed in the hood (“Attention hippies: Take a bath”) and engaging in general Vegas-esque mischief. I’d decided to play one slot machine in each casino, and eventually won $20 at the MGM Grand (and subsequently was chased from the premises by security when I wouldn’t show them my ID that confirmed my 19 years of age).

I called home from the next casino to let my parents know where I was. “Syracuse?” my dad guessed. “New York?” Nope, try again. “Guess where your son is?” he shouted to my mother when I revealed my location. For the guy who once hitchhiked from coast to coast, I expected more congratulatory praise for my impulsive Kerouacian adventure.

After waiting in line for a few hours at Thomas & Mack, I was elected to sprint into the arena to save seats for the general admission show. I grabbed the Browadway-style Phishbill that spoiled what I’d hoped would be a surprise costume set and bolted into the lower bowl, Page-side, about halfway between the stage and the soundboard. Saving seats turned out to be a monumental task, and I eventually retired, finding the rest of the group on the opposite side of the arena. (Side note: how did we ever make that work without cell phones?)


The first set was relatively standard for ’98 Phish (meaning it was average-great, but not mind-blowing). Alex’s buddy freaked out during a mid-set “Sneaking Sally Through the Alley”, exasperatedly breathing “ROB-ERT PAL-MER!” as though he’d simultaneously solved Molyneux’s Problem while ending world hunger. Jeff called the smooth transition from “Sneaking Sally” into “Chalkdust Torture”, and I was stoked to hear “Mike’s Song” a few tunes later.

This was my fourth “Mike’s” in ten shows (certainly no complaints there!) but as I’d yet to hear “I am Hydrogen”, I was a bit let down as the band moved into the then-newish “Frankie Says” (although in hindsight the spacey, textural song was an inspired choice for All Hallow’s Eve) and on into the set-closing “Weekapaug Groove”.

We leafed through the Phishbill during setbreak, chuckling at the “Roggae” and “Dirt” faux-advertisements. Many fans looked at each other quizzically as they also read, wondering why Phish chose the Velvet Underground’s Loaded over the heavily-rumored (and heavily-favored) Pink Floyd album The Dark Side of the Moon. In retrospect, the gesture defined the band at this time—while some of the playfulness that characterized its early years had dissipated, Phish had grown into a group that favored simplicity, and Loaded fit that bill. No horns, no guests, no quirky compositions—just a classic rock record that perfectly reflected the mature, 15-year-old Phish and introduced a number of jam fans to the genius of Lou Reed.

Phish’s rendition of the Velvets’ 1970 album was an instant hit that October night, with the deft and subtle Phishy touch applied to a batch of tried and true Reed compositions. Highlights of the Loaded set included a rousing take on “Sweet Jane” (the only VU song I knew at that point) followed by a nearly 14-minute-long version of “Rock and Roll” that hinted at the song’s enormous potential as a jamming springboard, especially as a frequent second-set opener for Phish 3.0.

The Fishman-led “Lonesome Cowboy Bill” arrived towards the end of the set, venturing from the song proper into a jam reminiscent of the Phish’s own “Possum” before delving into one of the lush, ambient soundscapes that defined Phish in 1998 (and foreshadowed the dark-and-dirty experimentation that followed in Set III).

A poignant, triumphant “Oh! Sweet Nuthin’” closed the Loaded set in style, and I long lamented the fact that this song didn’t make it into the regular rotation (although I won’t argue with “Rock and Roll” every third show nowadays). Imagine my surprise and elation last August when “Oh! Sweet Nuthin’” materialized at Shoreline, and three more times since then.



The third set? Depends who you ask. Some call it one of the biggest trainwrecks in the band’s storied career, while others call it a piece of sublime exploration. Opening with a half-hour “Wolfman’s Brother”, Phish left the song proper behind quickly, and by ten minutes in were pushing the boundaries hard. At the 20-minute mark, Fishman was playing vacuum over a wall of sound. 25 minutes after the set began, the band was loping through a sparse funk groove, eventually settling on “Piper”, which ran pretty straightforward and melted into “Ghost”.



Here’s where it really gets interesting and where the stories start to conflict. After about eight minutes of a solid “Ghost”, Trey simply put down his guitar and walked offstage. I’ve heard that someone slipped him something backstage; I’ve heard he was simply freaked out by Vegas; I’ve heard he was trying to channel Lou Reed’s obstinate nature. (OK, I made the last one up.) Suffice to say, the faithful were incredibly confused. After such a spirited jaunt through Loaded, seeing the band play a whacked-out space-jam set and end it abruptly didn’t sit well with a lot of heads (myself included).

Confusion and tension reigned in the few minutes before the end of the third set and the encore (would there even be an encore after that?), and when Phish re-took the stage, I could only think of Fishman as the family member who acts a fool when his parents are fighting in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. He rollicked the band through an amusing “Sleeping Monkey” and a downright thunderous and emphatically cathartic “Tweezer Reprise” that closed the show.
I lingered in Vegas for a few extra days (the side effect of the e-saver ticket), running into Phish fans here and there, always inquisitive of their thoughts regarding the end of the Halloween show. Most were just as stupefied as I was, but some were very genuinely concerned that the band was in trouble (it turns out they were, although it would take six years and another Vegas run to bring said trouble to the forefront).

I flew home the following Tuesday, admittedly a bit nervous about the future of Phish. When my roommate Rick picked me up in Syracuse, he handed me a printed setlist from the previous night’s show in Salt Lake City—imagine my joy at discovering that not only was my favorite band alive and well, but had covered Dark Side in its entirety in Utah.

Was I jealous that I missed it? Yeah, a little.

Would I trade it for my Phish-Halloween-Vegas experience, and the introduction of Loaded into my life?

Not a bet worth taking.


Setlist:

I: Axilla I, Punch You in the Eye, Roggae, Birds of a Feather, Sneaking Sally Through the Alley > Chalkdust Torture > Lawn Boy, Mike's Song > Frankie Says > Weekapaug Groove

II: Who Loves the Sun, Sweet Jane, Rock and Roll, Cool it Down, New Age, Head Held High, Lonesome Cowboy Bill > I Found a Reason, Train Round the Bend, Oh! Sweet Nuthin'

III: Wolfman's Brother > Piper > Ghost

E: Sleeping Monkey, Tweezer Reprise


Next week: Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde in Summer '99