Live at Randall’s Island
NIGHT 3 | Recap
By Greg Peeler
I’m not unhappy I didn’t go the first two nights.
It’s not like I don’t hate missing shows, even missing a weak show drives me bananas in a very visceral way. But after five shows on the road, I was frankly Ok with not having to deal with New York City all weekend, and we had just made the command decision to add the final leg of tour to the itinerary, which to me was a very fine trade for skipping two shows.
I listened at home Friday and Saturday and at least Saturday sounded like a decent second set, internet hype to the side, I wasn’t blown away, it was energetic, but still very in the box stuff.
To me, Phish still hadn’t really gotten into their rhythm.
They were playing really well, and every show had something incredible to recommend it, but trying to integrate a whole disk of new material and a sudden, some might say, unnatural, stepping away from beloved cover tunes, had led to some awkward moments.
But they had yet to play a Sunday show this tour, SPAC had ended on a Saturday.
And we never miss a Sunday show, right my brothers and sisters?
Right.
So, we got up at a reasonable hour and schlepped out way through Sunday traffic up 95 to New York City. This is never a pleasant experience, and I hoped my instincts were spot on. My constant touring and life companion was making noise that they were due for a “Soul Shakedown” night. Not to say they were going to play the song, but that’s her code for “A show that takes it to the next level”.
Sunday shows, do ya hear me people?
On the way up, a helpful friend texted me that they had moved start time back to 7:15; “Oh, awesome” we thought, “We got another fifteen minutes.” Seemed pretty good when we got there at like 7. So we take our time and grab a drink before heading to the venue.Turns out my buddy is a doofus and neglected to tell me the actual message is “Phish will start PROMPTLY at 7:15 because it’s going to get really nasty up here not too long after 11.”
Thanks brah.
So they fire up Sand as I’m buying tickets. I knew they were going to play Sand; dammit, was waiting on it all tour. Apparently, this was the first Sand opener ever too, which I found surprising, but later research confirmed.
The band slid into Winterqueen, which I was happy to hear because it afforded a chance for one last bathroom break and allowed us to find a spot without missing much. I’m shocked to say it, but I’m warming up to this tune. (warming…Winterqueen, yes, the terrible punning was intended, stop throwing pins at me) It still has a lot of the TAB flavor that runs throughout Fuego’s veins, but they do play it really pretty.
We settled into a good spot behind the second towers that afforded good sound and plenty of room for this fat kid to get down. The sound there was really LOUD. Even from the very back where we came in you could hear everything clear as day; another point to Randall’s Island in the win column. Looking around, I noticed there wasn’t much of a crowd there. Not compared to some of the numbers I had heard reported for Saturday.
Silly people, you don’t miss the Sunday show.
With impeccable timing they swung right into Reba as soon as we had found and marked out our landing spot, and, from there, it was no looking back. Reba is so beautiful and so intense, and when they play it well, as they have both versions this summer, it is a powerhouse. Third song in here, and we are already at peak performance. As far as I was concerned, they had already equaled the hyped up show from Saturday.
I will again here mourn the recent movement of the first set of a Phish show into mostly filler sprinkled with a “crowd pleasing” song or two. I noted at SPAC you can pretty well walk in at setbreak most nights and not be any worse for the wear. Sure, I got Mcgrupp for the first time since Superball in Philly, and there’s the occasional noteworthy musical moment like the extended, but still firmly type 1, Gin from Friday night, but really they’re mailing it in a lot.
Sand to open and Reba in the three hole is not mailing it in.
They have been mailing Birdies in during 3.0 though. But I was still feeling so good from Reba that I let it go. It’s interesting that they’ve abandoned this one and now it seems to reside early in the first set, much like other former improv monsters left for dead like Tube and Halley’s. It was short and sweet, and I was ok with it because I was feeling really good.
They brought it down to the 2014 debut of Water In The Sky, surprising when you consider two shows had already had serious impact from rain thus far in the tour. It’s always fun to pop the Everglades line, and my lady digs this tune and when she’s content it surely makes my show easier.
I like the placement of Possum smack in the middle of the set, and they’ve restrained themselves with it since they mocked us with it in Chicago last year (perhaps admitting the infernet complainers had a point after all?), so it’s to better effect now. You know what’s to even better effect? Letting Page take a sweet solo in the middle. The blood is up and pumping and they drop more old school on us with a decent upbeat Jim. I don’t expect much from Jim in 3.0 unless it’s in the middle of set 2 (My brain still recoils at the thought of what the BGCC Jim did to it last year) and this one didn’t stray too far from the norm, but did yield some sprightly moments. First set was doing pretty well at this point from where I was; very little BS and some nice pocket jamming.
One of my friends tried to mock Bouncin, but I was hearing none of it. I like Bouncin, always have, and don’t care if you don’t. I think it’s four minutes of pure pop sugar confection and it has served as the bridge between huge jams so much I always give it a pass.
Yeah, the bridge between jams, like into this really tasty Maze. Normally, with Maze, you get a ripping organ solo and Trey’s solo doesn’t match up, or Page isn’t as on point and Trey destroys his solo. But today they were playing so intensely, they both managed to blast it into hyperdrive. A really intense Maze that isn’t gonna get the love it deserves with everything else that went down on that field, but I for one was fully invested. SOAM to end this thing, I’m fine with that, let’s do it. I thought the one from SPAC was pretty good so let’s try round two.
Whoa.
About time they REALLY let one of these go. A lot of 3.0 Melts reach for that dark and dangerous place where everything is about to come flying apart but holds together through that one string of sanity, but they never quite make it. The closest they’ve come is the bizarre SPAC 2013 take that deconstructs itself through the wormhole and never really does make it back. This one combines that disjointedness with the dark, frightening, King Crimson-like screaming monster from Deer Creek 97. They took this thing to Mars but they had such total command over what they were doing up there that it never lost focus. Fierce angularity, jarring twists and turns, thick gooey space sludge, is that somebody moaning in the middle, oh god I don’t know, this is just nuts, holding on for dear life folks I dunno if we’re gonna make it…am I gonna end up in that loony bin that is sitting behind the concert fields…
Then they pull it all back to those three lifeline chords and we’re out. Made it. Whew.
THAT is a capper to a first set.
Best first set of 2014? Not much competition really, but, ah yeah, ya think so?
Grinning ear to ear, unrepentant sweaty mess . They are locked the hell IN.
And that’s just the appetizer.
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Setbreaks have felt kinda short all tour, or maybe it’s just my space/time thing. I dunno, but they were back on in what felt was pretty quick time. But since we have that curfew thing here, that might be a factor.
So, Chalkdust, right? Well, recently, second set opener CDT’s have been the great, so even though they did this trick a few shows ago, I’m game. They weren’t messing around here. There is, to me, very little BS in this CDT, no wandering around looking for that hook, no ambient screwing around that characterizes a lot of those “big” jams (yes, like it or not, I’m looking at YOU Tahoe).
I hear this as three to four separate jams. Within minutes after leaving the song proper behind they’re flying along with an airy and invigorating major key jam that reminded me of the Dead on Adderall style they were laying down during the DwD from Reading last Fall, really upbeat, danceable, focused, and easy on the ears. This keeps up for a while, and then they drop and you wonder if they’re going to bail at this point, but they barely even hesitate before switching gears into a section that featured Trey and Page playing off one another while Mike and especially Fish drive home the backbeat.
Can I give it up to Jon Fishman here? If you notice this tour, when the band really starts cooking, it’s Fish who is driving the jam. Whatever his reasoning with going with it, the smaller kit is suiting him very well. All four of them are totally locked in now, and it’s staggering. Trey takes the standard and starts leading into a compelling chord progression that, to my ears, ends up morphing into clear jam on the end of Mike’s Song.
They can bail here too, but the opening is only there for a moment, and we are back in full flight again. Trey is finding really cool themes all through this and Page is adding keyboard cat frosting from his entire arsenal, but it’s Mike and Fish who are really driving this thing, they
Somewhere in the early to mid 20 minute mark, Trey moves to loops and effects while Page joins the rhythm section as it starts to feel like things are winding down.
But no, let’s squeeze in one more sick sick sick little bit here, one last huge thematic progression that brings it all home one last time.
Honestly, they could have kept it going with no problem. They were so locked in, we were ALL locked in.
28 minutes and I just wanted more, more, more. (how do you like it, how do you like it!?)
Turned to the wife and said “Did that go far enough out there for ya babe?”
Her smile was glitter.
Lots of times nowadays, they biff the part coming off the big jam with a slow one, but no way, not tonight, this isn’t that kind of show my peeps. I don’t much like Light itself as a song, but I am thankful it is exactly one cigarette long, not one drag more, not one drag less.
I am also thankful Light is a jam MACHINE.
This one has a very different flavor, almost tropical, and I’m not even referring to the St. Thomas teases partway into the jam. Much syncopation, everybody playing off everybody else, there’s a part I described on the ride home as something that reminded me of Divided Sky but in a jam format, there’s some pretty clear Mind Left Body progressions as they work together through the madness. There is all kinds of interesting things going on, you can pick any one of the instruments and just listen and you’ll find something akin to aural ambrosia. Again, they are so focused and on point, every damn note matters, every damn note is supposed to be there, no BS whatsoever, and they take this all and build it into an absurd climax that blows everything apart before settling back to earth again. A stunning ride in thirteen minutes.
God, they are FEELING IT.
I am FEELING IT.
The entire place is FEELING IT.
So, let’s play Tweezer then, right?
Even the song itself is given that little OOMPH even for a Tweezer. You can just FEEL Trey is itching to let one loose, he’s vamping and filling in on the verses like he just wants to fill every crevice with something cool and then get this thing over with so we can get nuts.
Now, to me, the last three Tweezers have all been sad misfires full of unfulfilled potential, and Trey should be strongly finger wagged for abandoning it at the Mann to force Ghost on the rest of the band when they were just starting to get going with it.
They don’t screw around, and Trey quickly locks into a progression that *might* be the bastard lovechild of “Rock and Roll Ain’t Noise Pollution”, and he proceeds to take this and just grind the living hell out of it, ramping it up, and up, and up and then about thirteen minutes in, the whole thing just EXPLODES into full on Krakatoa mode and they somehow keep this peak up for another two or three minutes. Kuroda is going berserk, the band is going berserk, the whole place is just going absolutely berserk. I can’t stop laughing in absolute joy.
This isn’t a hose, this is the whole hydrant and you had better call in another truck.
They beautifully tie it all back in to the Tweezer theme and for the first time in an hour, we come to a stop, look at each other and just say “whoa…wow”.
Velvet Sea is no shock here, and it’s fine. They could have played Jennifer Dances, Secret Smile, whatever, I wouldn’t have cared. Even frickin Velvet Sea had a little extra juice to it to my ears. Hell, I’ll even spot them Sing Monica (which I will now always think of as “Stigmata” after I decided that’s what “Sing Monica” translates to my ears at SPAC) even though I’m convinced that it would be better served as a TAB tune.
I knew Slave was gonna get played, it’s the perfect ending to a three night run. While the SPAC version was beautiful and ethereal, this one is just pure crunch; even the pretty parts had that overtone of energy just waiting to burst out of it. Every note Trey played had that edge on it.
Like I keep saying, just so locked in. And it builds and builds, incredible, patient but you know they’re going to go nuts at the end, then when it finally comes they just knock the climax right out of the park, I think it landed in Yankee Stadium. The intensity is through the roof, even for Slave. Pure eargasm, and not enough Kleenex in the world to clean it up. I couldn’t ask for a more fitting closing, near tears in absolute bliss, maybe beyond that, I don’t even know anymore and it doesn’t matter.
And so it ends. Wild eyed and grinning so hard my ears may well pop off.
It doesn’t even matter if they Numbrah-Line’d the encore. Hell, the best two set show I ever saw had a Bouncin/Tweeprise encore. The quotes from Blondie’s “Dreaming” were pretty neat too. I just had to laugh at it all.Tweezer Reprise sent us all home the right way, glowing with the fire of a thousand sunsets.
They crushed this one. They came out on a mission and they drove it home right through our faces, wiping out, for me, everything else on tour up to that point. The bar has been reset.
That is a band my friends.
Never miss the Sunday show.
See you from Merriweather till the end. I’ll be reliving the first hour of that second set every day until then.