Phishermen Hook Big Rochester Crowd December 12, 1997 - The Post-Standard By Mark Bialczak A man wanders about the indoor parking garage, his finger pointed toward to the cold concrete ceiling. In Phish talk, that means he needs a ticket to Thursday night's sold-out show across the street at the Rochester War Memorial. He and hundreds of others, many of whom are strolling with impatience as show time approaches. But this guy has a big smile on his face. It's not a ticket he's looking for; he wants a fiscal/spiritual exchange. "One dollar for good karma," he says. Phish concert This is what Phish shows have come to: a traveling party where fans pull off the highway and fight the traffic jams (considerable here - in the car lines clogging the streets and rows of young people jockeying for good position up front for the general admission show). They swap all sorts of things: grilled cheese sandwiches, drug paraphernalia, a very sparse extra ticket or two and even good vibrations signaled by smiles wide enough to take up two lanes of traffic. Once the lights dim and the show starts, however, so many of the fans turn inward. The oh-so-communal experience, the closest thing to the Grateful Dead journey left for a yearning generation of youths these days, becomes a four-on-one game. The communication in the crowd lapses into the passing of pipes and joints. Even many of the older folks sprinkling the crowd give off looks that say: I may seem straight now, but I was smoking that stuff before you were born. On stage, it's the music of Phish - Trey Anastasio on guitar and vocals, Mike Gordon on bass and vocals, Page McConnell on keyboards and vocals and Jamesville-DeWitt graduate Jon Fishman on drums but not many vocals - that becomes the focal point for every dancing, swirling, tie-dyed-wearing fan. They play their instruments, and out with the notes comes positive energy. The fans close their eyes and soak it up with the smoke, simple light show and blistering sound. Starting off with "I Punch You in the Eye," Anastasio rips off guitar licks and raps lyrics with a passion. The band works with him, then works out on its own. All four guys can stretch a solo; 10-minute songs are the norm this night. But they also know how to meld the musical journeys into one common trip. It's obvious that when they're home in Vermont, practice time is well spent. On the turn of a song, Phish transforms from jazzy to fully funky and then forcefully folkish. Gordon knows how to handle the vocal spotlight, too, turning in a spectacular version of the Phish staple "Dirt," and with him, the rest of the band sounds like The Band in full folk-rock glory. Sure enough, Rick Danko's outfit isn't the only band that Phish can sound like while still keeping its own cult-inducing identity. On "Down with Disease," it's Jimi Hendrix-like guitar that gets a workout. At other times, sounds reminiscent of Santana, The Allman Brothers Band and, yes, The Grateful Dead creep in. Loads of bands would have loved to take claim to this night's Phish version of the rock standard "Loving Cup." Phish's concert reputation is built upon a certain uniqueness. That's why another of their concert mainstays fits in so well while on face value appearing to seem so different. When Gordon sings the country traditional and Tennessee favorite "Rocky Top," the old-time touch compels the fans, young and old, to sing along. The arena looks like a New York state college convention of ballcaps and school shirts, with everything from Syracuse to St. Lawrence to Paul Smith's College represented. But for this couple of minutes, at least, Gordon might as well be quarterback Peyton Manning leading a bunch of University of Tennessee students through a spirited version of their school fight song. After a lengthy intermission, the four Phishermen came back and hooked the crowd again right away. And that's another reason why the band's so popular. Every night on stage, they give two concerts for the relatively inexpensive ($22.50 for this night) price of one. Article © 1997 The Post-Standard