Phish Takes to Performing Without A Net December 13, 1997 - The Record, Northern New Jersey By Brian McCollum Phish, that jammingest of jam bands, has cut down the safety net. After 14 years developing legions of devotees with its all-things-considered improvisation, the Vermont band, which performs Dec. 29-31 at Madison Square Garden, has decided to quit using set lists onstage. Maybe it's no surprise. Gigging relentlessly _ and rehearsing several times a week _ can build telepathy among a quartet of music-minded guys, in this case Mike Gordon (bass), Trey Anastasio (guitar), Page McConnell (keyboards), and Jonathan Fishman (drums). "We used to have at least a sketch up there with us," says Gordon. "Lately it's been nothing, which is great, because it's more spontaneous. Usually it's Trey who starts playing a song and everyone else just goes along with him. I'm so glad I'm in one of the only bands around doing that, because it does keep things fun." Quietly and stealthily, Phish has emerged as one of the most formidable touring forces. The band was No. 1 in average attendance this summer. Gordon, whose CD player these days is spinning the Greyboy Allstars and Beck, is ready for a January break. He'll use the time to edit a movie he recently wrapped, a film featuring Col. Bruce Hampton as mentor to a young guitar student. He recently ruminated on a few of his favorite topics. On recalling offbeat songs: "Trey will know if we haven't played a song in a few years and aren't likely to remember it. But that won't keep him from playing something obscure. We have the attitude that energy and inspiration is more important than getting the changes right. Especially with our own songs, the older stuff, a lot of times we won't remember all the notes, but we'll remember the rhythm and the phrasings. There's something neat about playing intricate music with a loose approach. Usually when you hear people playing music like that, it's very precise and technical." On meticulous fan scrutiny, including the "Pharmer's Almanac" (Melting Media, $15.95), whose new fourth edition features pages of stats and concert histories: "I used to have more of an urge to check out that stuff. It gets to be a little more predictable what people are wondering about. Maybe it's because I'm a big Woody Allen fan. He never reads reviews. He says he benefits from just working _ he's a workaholic _ and never going to his own movies. "...It's not really a problem. It's true that people keep tabs about a lot of stuff. But I don't know _ I guess it's flattering that they'd want to. It is kind of silly when they're making pie graphs about set list openers. But then, I always liked a good graph." On outside misconceptions: "People who haven't seen the band will make certain assumptions. I met this girl working at a mall, and she was saying she wasn't going to our concert because she heard we were following in the footsteps of the Grateful Dead. She said she liked the Dead and wasn't into a band that was trying to copy somebody else. ... That's the worst insult. We used to have that image _ to the outside, we seemed derivative. To us, we were doing something fresh. "Another is that we're into being really zany and cutesy and smiley and overly positive and syrupy. The reason that came about, I think, is that we were in the midst of the mope-rock era, with that not-liking-life attitude. And we're high on life. So we were perceived as these overly happy musicians. But we really value darkness and scariness. Lately, our jamming has been so dark-sounding that people coming to the concerts would never make that accusation." On changing musical directions onstage as a unit _ as naturally as, well, a school of fish: "For me a good concert is a series of dreams, the different jams. Dreams definitely go into some scary places, and some joyful places too. "That's the beauty of improvisation _ it's all about connecting. The jazz people say to play what you hear _ if you don't hear anything, don't play anything. If you're doing that, you're moving as a group, or being moved by the cosmos. So we move in directions together. After a set or tour is over, we get together and talk: `Isn't it interesting how we ended up playing this way?'" Article © 1997 Times Union