Go Phish: This Band Can Party September 28, 1995 - The Seattle Times by Patrick McDonald Phish, 7:30 p.m. Monday and Tuesday, Seattle Center Arena; $ 20,628-0888. A Phish concert is more than a concert, more than an event, more than a happening - it's a celebration. The wacko but brilliant band from Vermont had fashioned not only its own sound but its own way of doing things, including building up a core of fans so devoted that its shows have taken on a Grateful Dead-like sense of community, heightened by constant interplay between band and audience. More than perhaps any other band, Phish's concerts have the feeling of a massive party of like-minded fanatics. You get a sense of the Phish concert experience from "A Live One," its latest CD, a boxed two-disc set with more than two hours of music, a 50-page color booklet and a flier about Phish's extensive mail-order business, newsletter, hotline and Internet address (naturally called phish.net). The CDs impressively display Phish's musical range and especially its talent for improvisation - some songs go on for more than 30 minutes. Highlights include the intensely rocking "Chalkdust Torture," the jazzy "Stash," the funky "Gumbo" and the definitive Phish song, "Tweezer," with Zappa-like tempo changes, an elaborate arrangement and virtuoso musicianship. There are some surprises, including an a cappella interlude in "You Enjoy Myself," and plenty of Phish's out-there humor, in songs such as "Wilson" and "Harry Hood," both musical portraits of cartoonlike characters. The crowd sings along on many of the tunes. While the music on Phish's five albums is lively, fascinating and eclectic, you have to see a performance to understand what the fans' devotion is all about. Lead singer-guitarist Trey Anastasio serves as host and guide, ably assisted by keyboardist Page McConnell. Pudgy, bespectacled drummer-vocalist Jon Fishman (the inspiration for the band's name) is an irrepressible showman who may wear a dress onstage, or nothing at all. His arsenal may include, in addition to his drum kit, a vacuum cleaner, a piece of sheet metal, an air-horn or anything handy that makes noise. Mike Gordon, the most "normal" of the lot, switches between electric and acoustic stand-up basses. You never know what's going to happen. Once they played the Beatles' entire "White Album" nonstop (plus two sets of their own music); another time they harmonized on several classic barbershop-quartet songs, to a stunned, silent audience. They've flown over the crowd in a spaceship shaped like a hotdog on a bun. Sometimes they show up on stage in costumes and masks. The shows' lighting and special effects are spectacular. Phish has built its ever-growing audience through touring. Starting 12 years ago, when the band was formed at the University of Vermont, it has emphasized concerts over recordings. Taking inspiration from the Grateful Dead, it has sought to communicate directly to its fans, through the newsletter, Internet address, etc.; establish its own "dry goods" business of Phish paraphernalia; encourage audience taping of its shows; and even establish its own camp followers, a la the Deadheads. All that work has paid off in recent years. Its albums have all gone gold. Its concerts invariably sell out. Its merchandise is everywhere. And now that the Dead is over (or in hiatus), Phish is poised to become its logical successor. Make way for the Phishheads!