Phish-less singer jams just as hard July 23, 2001 - Wisconsin Journal Sentinel by Nathan Wallin Alpine Valley - After 17 years and more than 13,000 performances, the band Phish, heirs to the Grateful Dead's perpetual touring throne, decided to put a temporary end to their relentless concert regimen. Saturday night at Alpine Valley, Phish frontman Trey Anastasio brought out his own show sans Phish-mates, but by judging the crowd's mood at the show, the Phish phenomena really hadn't gone away. It was just that for this tour, three of the four members stayed home. As with all Phish or Phish-related shows, a communal vibe ran through the red-eyed, sweat-drenched, unshaven Alpine crowd. Fans took it upon themselves to cool each other off with their water spray bottles. Spectators seated close to the stage made room for stragglers dancing in the aisle about to be kicked out by security. When the show began, the musicians casually strolled out on stage. Lead man Anastasio, dressed in jeans and a black, long-sleeve T-shirt, modestly bowed his head and grinned sheepishly while giving a little wave to fans as they howled their approval. A show that was about music and not spectacle, there were no pyrotechnics, no costume changes or rock-star posing, nor were there any choreographed dance routines, unless you count some leg kicks by the horn section and rhythmic head bobbing. On hand was a collection of skilled musicians ready to put out nearly three hours of light-hearted, joyful funk and extended jam sessions. Through the show, the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd gyrated, shook and shimmied to the sounds of Anastasio's assembled crew, hardly even noticing the suffocating humidity and temperatures in the 80s. During the show, the band sometimes played to the crowd and, at times, seemed to play with the crowd. During a sparring session, Anastasio and keyboardist John Medeski built up to a climactic crescendo, paused long enough for everyone to catch their breath, then went back for another marathon. A visually appealing moment came during one of many jam tangents, as only by ultraviolet black stage lights illuminated the band. The crowd tossed glow sticks back and forth, evoking an underwater scene filled with luminous jellyfish. During the second set, the players exchanged their instruments for a soft and calming acoustic instrumental piece, with bassist Tony Markellis leaving his perch for a stand-up bass, and the horn section exchanging their brass for woodwinds. The track unfortunately was the only one of its kind to be played but gave another much-needed respite from the non-stop, endurance-testing jams. When the end came, Anastasio addressed the crowd and proclaimed that Alpine Valley "really is the best place to play in the world." While the cynic might have found the remark obligatory and pandering, judging by the performance Saturday night, it felt true.