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Review by PhishMarketStew
They have literally upped the stakes and surprised even the most jaded fan at every turn since Halloween 2013.
Just when it doesn't seem like they couldn't possibly pull any more tricks out of their hat they throw down an event so singular and self-defining/referenceing as to knock our collective smiles off of our faces and onto the floor.
If you caught this show in person you are truly blessed.
An Actual Landlady, a Keyboard Army & Once In A Fucking Lifetime form a triptych of tunes not each unheard from in over 500+ concerts.
You caught one of only 4 Birdwatchers.
A an exceedingly rare Frankenstein, a lovely fan generated Seven Below in the 1st Set & a Down With Disease that eats cynicism & spits out bliss.
You didn't catch any tentpole jams in the run of Carini > Steam > Piper > 2001 > Tweezer but you probably didn't mind as that marathon 45 minutes of music was so well wrought that it felt like a single piece, each song studded with a uniquely 3.0 sound.
When The Horse emerged from a truncated Tweezer it took me back to the early days of 3.0 where that pairing happened several times, usually to great disdain.
But this time it felt all right.
An affirmation that we've come a far piece indeed, that Phish is still doing now what they were doing then, that they got it all along and now their steadfastness of vision is paying off dividends.
Slave is a set closer in that has so much in common with Hood. The differences are something I personally feel but find very hard to put into words. Slave feels pensive & gracious where Hood feels celebratory & affirming, each so unmistakably Phish, each so slippery & hard to pin down, both putting in serious work after a quarter century of self-defining moments, a feat for any artist.
You also caught the Encore, experiencing something that will likely never be repeated at a Phish concert.
But then again we've been saying that since the S show in 2011 & this band has shocked us time & again since that fateful night.
From Fuck You to Thank You Phish is as dichotomous, bewildering, joyful & as devastatingly imaginitive as the were in whatever your definition of the "good ol-days" is
Same as it Ever Was.