Phish takes chances, offers up creativity November 16, 1995 - The Tampa Tribune by Philip Booth Phish, from the outside looking in, represents something of an enigma. How did a band with little radio or MTV exposure and minimal name recognition manage to rack up $ 10.3 million in ticket sales last year? Not to mention selling out Madison Square Garden in four hours. Ask the now-in-limbo Grateful Dead, the obvious model for the Burlington, Vt. group whose appeal is rooted in a yen for improvisation, a bent toward spontaneity and a verifiable hippie vibe. Phish, touring in support of this year's two-CD "A Live One" album, displayed all those elements Wednesday night in front of a 5,233-strong crowd of true believers at the USF Sun Dome. A certain pop eclecticism again ruled the repertoire of the groove-rock quartet, whose first set opened with raging bluegrass stomper "Poor Heart." The tight-knit twangy harmonies, honky-tonk piano and neighing vocals of that tune led to loping ballad "Fast Enough For You," topped by Trey Anastasio's chiming guitar, and the tempo-accelerating "Rift." Later, a glistening a cappella version of pop chestnut "Sweet Adeline" - done barbershop-quartet style - preceded an extended acoustic piano segment. That was part one. The second set, traditionally the more intense of the two, veered from the driving funk of "Wilson" to the Caribbean rhythms and megaphoned verses of concert staple "Fee." A crunchy late-show cover of the Beatles' "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" proved reverent but expansive, with pianist Page McConnell inserting a quote from "Michelle" and Anastasio romping through an adventurous six-string solo. Magical mystery moments at Phish shows, of course, are tied to a strategy that might be called drama through repetition: Phrases are played again and again, rhythms are stretched, harmonies turn into dissonance, shapes shift. That approach inevitably yields inspired interaction as well as dead ends, both of which were demonstrated on Thursday. Still, the band offered an infinitely higher quotient of creativity than practically any other arena-rock outfit on the road. We'll take occasional crash landings over play-by-rote perfection any day. Philip Booth is the Tribune's pop music critic.