Phish Sends Its Fans Spinning October 25, 1995 - Wisconsin State Journal By Natasha Kassulke The Madison Muskies are gone. But a new kind of Phish came to town Tuesday night. Instead of looking for a miracle, as Grateful Dead fans did at their concerts, fans of the Vermont jazz-rock-jam band Phish said they were looking for tickets to the sold-out show at the Dane County Coliseum. Phish followers in tie-dyed T-shirts, dreadlocks, sandals and baggy bib overalls packed the Coliseum floor early saving space to spin and dance. The show got started 30 minutes late, but once it did, some dancers moved into the doorways for greater space to whirl away the show, which lasted more than three hours. The first set gave the band a chance to showcase some of its new material including a captivating ''Free.'' ''Strange Design'' saw keyboardist Page McConnell stealing the spotlight from lead singer-guitarist Trey Anastasio and bassist-singer Mike Gordon. But the band jester, drummer Jon Fishman, hid his navy blue and orange dress and goggles from the audience until he moved to a stool in front for an acoustic jam with the rest of the band. A 45-minute intermission between sets allowed fans to huddle at a souvenir stand and plot their next chess game move. Phish is playing their fans in an ongoing chess tournament while on tour. A subway-poster sized black-and-white chess board with velcro pieces hangs behind the band and just before the second set two fans make the move. The second set then came off with cleaner vocals and tighter instrumentals than the first. It featured some older songs and crowd favorites including the energetic ''Bouncing Around the Room,'' a song that seemed to confuse some of the dancers who suddenly had to shift gear from spinning to a bobbing. ''Tweezer'' gave the band a chance to let loose for 30 minutes of improvisational jamming that has earned them comparisons to the Grateful Dead and Frank Zappa. By hopping clockwise on small trampolines, Gordon and Anastasio added a playground appeal to the otherwise long and sometimes lumbering show. Many of the 10,250 fans who were there jumped along. And the trampoline fits, since Phish is meant to be as much about playfulness as it is about concocting an oddball blend of rock, bluegrass, jazz and funk. At times the band stretched out with Anastasio singing into a bullhorn and Fishman howling a solo like an injured animal. But too often, the jams ran off on tangents with some mediocre hooks and obtuse imagery that often failed to hold the attention of the high school and college-aged crowd past the average 10-minute song. The sometimes self-indulgent interludes have won Phish a loyal following. But for now fans seem to come for tickets and a chance at some centrifugal fun. The miracles might just have to wait.