Like Phish out of water May 19, 1994 - The Vancouver Sun by John Armstrong Every so often, a city or area erupts with bands; Liverpool in the '60s, Athens, Ga., in the early '80s, Seattle most recently and now, according to the music press, San Diego. Interesting how these "scenes" suddenly come to prominence and how of a piece it all is -- eg. Seattle's flannel shirts and Black Sabbath fixation. Or the discovery in upstate New York three or so years ago of a "New Haight Ashbury." How perfect for the weary journalist; bands of an improvisational, jam-oriented bent who wore beards, longish hair that had never seen a product more advanced than Johnson's No More Tears, ratty patched denim and knit belts. Harmonica players who used army surplus ammo belts to carry their instruments. Even better, that summer they played a series of shows in something called the HORDE (Horizons of Rock Developing Everywhere) Festival where the members of Blues Traveller, the Spin Doctors and Phish sat in with each other and sets went on for hours. A near-evangelical Rolling Stone feature on this phenomenon had everything but the ghost of Pigpen McKernan singing Turn On Your Lovelight as a benediction. Just one catch, however. The various musicians at the forefront of this purported scene were, at best, passing acquaintances. "When we did those HORDE shows that summer I ran into (Spin Doctors' singer) Chris Barron and we kind of looked at each other and started laughing -- 'Oh hi, I hear we're in a 'scene' together. Nice to meet you."' Phish guitarist/singer Trey Anastasio still laughs when telling the story. The Rolling Stone article of a few months earlier, he says, had been the cause of much hilarity in the Phish van as it rolled from home-base Vermont to shows on the East Coast. "To read that thing, you'd get the impression we all lived in some big farmhouse. I knew a couple of the guys from Blues Traveller because we played a lot of the same places and I'd go see their band when I could. The guys from Spin Doctors I didn't know at all." Truth be told, Phish didn't need an ersatz scene. Even before signing to Elektra records, the band had built a live following that regularly sold out 6,000-seat halls and had done just fine with three independent releases. Anastasio says even now, the Elektra contract is "just gravy." "Phish has always toured so the live show was the main focus of everything and it never felt like we were working towards something. All we ever wanted was to be able to drive around and find people who'd listen to us. And quit our day jobs." "Luckily I had this job at a little T-shirt printing shop and they were real flexible. It turned out it was a front for a big drug dealing operation. I used to wonder how this place that did zero business had two owners, young guys around 27, who drove around in Mustang 5.0's; hot tubs, Dobermans, gold chains, the whole deal. 'They'll never suspect me."' The first album for Elektra, Rift, was "a little disappointing" for the label. But the current Hoist is another matter and that a band can break with an album that throws reggae, jazz, atonal drones, barnyard bluegrass and anything else not nailed down into the mix says there's hope for the music industry yet. Not much, but hope regardless. "The way we looked at it was, 'If it's not broke, don't fix it.' We were doing fine without a major label and if it didn't work out, we'd still be fine. We'd just sell records at the door." Phish play the Vogue Theatre this Sunday. Tickets through TicketMaster.