Phish Review: Hartford, CT 10/27/13

Originally published in STTF # 40

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.