by Mike Akers
Hartford, CT –
10-27-13
XL Center
Hartford, CT –
There is a specific superfluous energy that reprises each night during fall
tour that is absent from the summer months.
It would be a pass to say that being indoors is the main reason. The easy Sunday vibe or the festive fall
feeling? I will say that Phish played one of their best shows in New England
since the return at the XL Center in Hartford.
On the evening of the day when art
lost a long time legend in Lou Reed, the typical fan knew they would homage him
with tribute a la Rock and Roll or Sweet Jane.
The former ended up opening the show.
It came with a bit of surprise since it usually kicks off set two and is
a major jam vehicle to lie out the theme for the rest of the show. Something simple to keep in mind when
observing anything artistic is to limit what you expect. Reed’s mentor and cultural
pioneer Andy Warhol famously said, “If
you want to know all about Andy Warhol, just look at the surface of my paintings
and films and me and there I am. There’s nothing behind it.”
To assume Trey Anastasio
was channeling Reed’s youthful self from the synergy shared with Warhol might
be a long shot. But, it was obvious
Phish wanted to pay a quiet tribute to their late hero. They did so by being themselves, without
filter. The kinetic blast of energy continued strong into their own
Ocelot. A quick Tube got them warmed up
with electricity that charged the rest of the set. 3.0 rarity, Fee got weird quick and was a
blast from the past. Ignoring the three
newer songs played from the new era, the dingy arena certainly gave this
particular fall show a throwback feel to it. Other first set highlights
included Halfway to the Moon and Walls of the Cave.
Tweezer was the highlight
of the year. It sizes up and trumps Tahoe
in almost half the time, and contains teases of a song (Fuego) we do not even know exists yet. The best Golden Age since its debut in 2009,
perhaps commentary on Reed’s vision of art-rock some fifty years prior. Digital guitar delay littered the fade out of
the song with pulses of light into a soaring and most appropriately placed
Halley’s Comet. Melting like butter with
2001, the cosmic theme continued. A
sloppy Fluffhead was obvious, but it did not matter. Nothing could deter the bliss that Slave to
the Traffic Light adds to the song narrative.
At
the end of the best tour in five years just a few nights later, it was evident
in its triumph they were being the band they knew before we caught on following
their own genesis almost thirty years to the date in the sleepy Vermont college
town. Warhol created art and recognized
brilliance in Reed’s. Phish is continuing
in the tradition of making and sharing others’ art on the surface, as it is
meant to be.