Phish swims a freestyle all its own December 13, 1995 - Providence Journal-Bulletin By Andy Smith The common wisdom following the death of Jerry Garcia was that bereft Grateful Dead fans would naturally gravitate to another band known for its improvisational jams, Phish. But the Burlington, Vt., quartet, which came to the Providence Civic Center last night, has its own music and its own - mostly young - tie-dyed fans. Phish's music is more eclectic, more energetic and goofier than the Dead's. Their drummer, Jon Fishman, has worn the same frumpy dress every time I've seen the band over the last several years. The band is apparently in the middle of a chess game (a real one) with its audience. A giant chessboard hung over the stage, and a ceremonial move was made by a selected audience member midway through the show. Many Phish fans consider the band's relatively straightforward first sets a mere appetizer for weirder outings of the second half, but I found Phish's first set last night very satisfying. (Unfortunately, I had to leave midway through the second set to make deadline.) The band opened with the sunny, Caribbean-flavored "Ya Mar," then a hard-hitting version of "Sample in a Jar." The band had installed lighting rigs well out over the audience, and when the colored beams swept over the crowd during "Sample's" chorus, there was a roar of delight. "Sample" proved that Phish can play a conventional rock song when it wants to - it just doesn't want to all that often. On the more eccentric "Divided Sky," Trey Anastasio let his meditative guitar solo stop, and simply held his silence for several minutes while the crowd noise built, died down and built again. Then he hit a single note, stopped briefly once more, and started up again. "Lifeboy" was slow and sweet, and "Silent in the Morning" showed the band's knack for building harmonies on top of a repetitive synthesizer part. Phish even broke out mandolin and banjo for the old-timey "Blue and Lonesome." More high-powered was the scorching "Run Like an Antelope," while the spacier side of the band (and keyboardist Page McConnell) got a workout on "The Squirming Coil." The second set saw the band test its speed with "Sparkle," then stretch way, way out on "Down With Disease," getting into a long, long groove that had a few nice moments, such as McConnell's swooping organ solo, but then got stuck in a boring pattern. It was a relief when the band found its way into an energetic version of "The Lizards" that roused the audience once more. But that's the risk an improvisational band faces, and Phish isn't afraid of it. Nor is it afraid of being silly at times - and in an age when angst is the coin of the rock realm, that's a refreshing virtue in its own right.