For many, Labor Day weekend always means a three-day weekend for the hard working, but for the jamband community, it always means Phish is going to blow minds and melt faces just outside the Mile High City. Although this staple has been reenacted now eleven times since 2011, this year got a little something extra: a fourth night. This attribute is something phans have been rumoring, wishing, begging, and pleading for on message boards and in conversation for quite some time and 2022 was finally the year the dream came true.
Among the community who planned on attending, the outlook for Thursday’s show was filled with anticipation, especially in light of tickets being still available and so many potentials skipping the opening night because of work or as an effort to conserve energy for the rest of the weekend. In fact, by 8 pm, ticket sales were at 24,000 and one could still pick up extras on Cash or Trade for well below face value. These dynamics led many people to believe that those who opted out were going to get a lesson from the band, who would speculatively drop a show that would be regrettable to miss.
The band hit the stage at minutes past eight and, after making eyes at the crowd and laughing amongst themselves, the band wasted no time starting up “Sand” to open the weekend. This version plodded along at an even pace for the lyrical section, before moving into the jam, which was well crafted and the four moved as one and although it never left the planet, it certainly didn’t disappoint.
As the end dematerialized, those near the front could see Gordon pushing pedals and banging the body of his bass, signifying the expected: “Down With Disease”. Although the opening was botched by a beat, the band shook it off and gave a strong performance, vocally and musically, and had the place dancing and grooving to the opening combination. The improvisation was unhurried and stage citizenry were listening to each other and advancing as a united front.
Without pause, the tempo shifted from straight ahead to upbeat shuffle and Gordon stepped to the microphone and told the tale of Kitty Malone, UFOs, and Tomahawk County. “Scent of a Mule” got the raucous recognition from the house, as it should have as this was to be the first bust-out of the weekend. Not played since 2021 and 46 shows, this equine has become more elusive, so roping this steed checked the list for those new to the scene as well as those who miss the mule. Although there was no major dueling and a few lyrical mistakes, the ride gave everyone a smile.
Although a clear stop was held in pause, Trey plucked at “Ocelot” and Fishman proceeded appropriately, with McConnell and Gordon following suit right after. This number was tight from start to finish and bounced around the room under the open sky.
“Heavy Things” kept the feeling light, upbeat and provided the nostalgia that many older heads imbibe who attend Dick’s as their annual pilgrimage. McConnell’s Wurlitzer solo was playful and out-front and just made the heart smile as looks of joy were exchanged and witnessed in all directions.
In perfect opposition to the brightness of its predecessor, the edgy, chaotic lead of “Axilla (Part II)” brought everyone into channeling their inner badass, full of angst and fist pumping. The dark closing section dwindled only for only a few minutes before the band segued without error or delay back into the upbeat of “Back on the Train”. This version threw down some great jamming and had Page alternating between clawing at the Clav and banging it out on the Grand while Trey shredded it double time. Fishman and Gordo’s superb foundation kept the whole thing anchored as the feelgood frenzy almost came off the tracks.
Reaching Land’s End and slipping into both musical and lyrical waters, the ebb and bob of “Theme from the Bottom” proved to be full of that murk that Phish is so incredibly talented at, able to submerge the largest of gatherings. Hues of blue and green slid and shifted as Kuroda’s handiwork added magic to the auditory aqueous solution, making those locked in feel even more discombobulated with joyous disorientation.
To close the first set, the band turned to calypso and fired up “Blaze On”. Following the first stanza, Trey called to McConnell, “Leo!”, and Page did a short but excited run down the keys before Anastasio returned to singing. At the close of the resounding sung title, Anastasio remarked, “Blaze on! It’s legal!”, generating a short, but noticeable applause. In total, the first set ran 76 minutes and had some great energy. The trifecta opener certainly was the ear catcher, but all the tunes shone in their own way, and much fun was had to start off the weekend.
Set two got the Gordo treatment once more with a strong rendition of “Possum”. Anastasio and Company fired on all cylinders for this one and the audience, rested and recharged from the setbreak, shook it for the full eight-minute life of the harried and hurried marsupial.
“Twist” brought the “woo” factor and then some. Starting off quite reserved, the audience regardless was certainly happy to throw in for their contribution to the song. The jam section started off wide, the JEMP membership playing outside of each other, one laying their line followed by another’s, and so on, instead of playing as one immutable force all running for the finish line.
The longest track of the night would shine its light in “Ruby Waves”. Clocking in at seventeen minutes, the dynamics flexed the muscles of the band. With its inspirational lyrics and uplifting structure, this one had many spinning, looking up at the twinkling skyscape, and calling out “an ocean of love will carry me up from this prison of lies”. Adorned with McConnell’s synth library, Page’s contribution gave it additional cosmic ether that seemed just to play into the infinite perspective of the song’s lyrics. The improv set off on its journey in a high tempo form, Fishman rolling out wave after wave of cymbal and tom work while Trey called out to open waters and Gordon rumbled on the horizon like a storm immense and visible but distant enough that the intake of beauty overshadows the looming feeling of danger. Seven minutes in Page turned to the Hammond and Leslie effect and Trey went 70’s rock star, heated shred increasing the fervor of the audience. The jam cooled and Trey enacted an effect that strongly resembled a baritone saxophone as Mike finger-rolled multiple single note strands as he climbed octaves. Fishman tapped out double beat snare snaps while Page bled in the ambient glue that held it together.
Without a breath, “Don’t Doubt Me” dropped and the dissonant number got it all moving again. As a Sci-Fi Soldier original, this would be its third time to hit the stage since its Halloween debut in Vegas of 2021 and the band certainly gave it the treatment. Resounding with its hard-edged head, the freeform became unsettling and dark, echoing over the masses, before turning back on itself to reform under playful melody, backbeat antics, and the pop and pulse that is characteristically to so much we love about Phish.
Anastasio’s original “A Wave of Hope” segued out of the New Orleans-esque closing of “Don’t Doubt Me” and brought the field of Dick’s back on line for some significant dancing and movement. Filled with elevating lyrics and imagery, this rocker contained some great tension and release, as the message and the vehicle broke loose multiple times and had twenty thousand faces beaming for more.
The new groove of “The Howling” got everyone baying at the moonless sky and ears deep in the funk fissure, Fishman even called out “Yeah!”, lighting up the audience. Although short lived at six minutes, the silent message got across. As the structure turned to drone, the familiar guitar line of “Piper” emerged and Fishman rattled off his cymbal stirrings before settling into the high hat beat indicative to the piece. The spiraling rotation of lyrical contribution built upon a equally cyclical form, held for only a minute before the band let out across the land on the back of the worm, incrementally increasing the speed and riding the scarlet invertebrate as long as they could hold on. The fever grew, gaskets blew, and the audience just ate it up. Not only did this version time out at thirteen minutes, but it was also the first time it has closed a second set.
Leaving the night on a high note, “Harry Hood” got the encore slot and as a staple in this position, it left everyone with a warm feeling at the close of night one. Walking out into night, widened smile, among countless others, it was certainly another night well lived.
In the end, it wasn’t the “should’ve been there” show that some speculated, but rather having 3000 less people inside certainly opened up more room to dance and cut the line to any service those inside needed. The sound was superb and it is always amazing to hear the band reverberate over such a vast space with no echo or feedback, with crystal clarity, and from any position in the place. Kuroda’s light work was mesmerizing, dizzying, and just plain fun. As far as Dick’s go, the staff are incredibly warm and genuine and the facility is clean, well kept, and a ridiculously great place to see a show on this level. The band speaks for themselves night after night, and this opening evening was no different, and although it wasn’t perfect, improvisation often isn’t. What was perfect was the sum of parts, the feelings incurred, and the release into the moment when your favorite band walks out on stage to the collective unknown and holds the undivided attention of thousands and fills the inner with an outer space full of promise, joy, energy, and light.
Check out more photos from the show.
