Phish - Farmhouse May 18, 2000 - The San Diego Union By James Hebert Album Review - Farmhouse The most shocking thing about "Farmhouse," Phish's first studio album in two years, is that its longest song clocks in at less than seven minutes. This is, after all, a band whose members can spend the first seven minutes of a song just clearing their throats. But "Farmhouse," the Vermont quartet's 11th album, seems to signal a more focused Phish, with songs that actually follow some sort of structure instead of noodling off into jam-land. And this is good. And yet, bad. Good because it distills and displays what's best about Phish -- the band's talent for melody, its instrumental acumen, its fresh phrasings. Bad because, paradoxically, a focused Phish is also a very relaxed Phish -- so relaxed, in fact, that many of the songs on "Farmhouse" are as hard- edged as marshmallows, and about as exciting. Songs like the folksy title track (the album was recorded in guitarist Trey Anastasio's converted barn; hence the name) play out like clouds unfurling in a summer sky. They can be intoxicating, but intoxication sometimes leads to somnolence. The propulsive "Heavy Things" and "Gotta Jibboo" pick things up a bit, and "Dirt" showcases Phish's typically loopy lyrics: I'd like to live beneath the dirt / A tiny space to move and breathe is all I would ever need, Anastasio sings over swelling cellos. Nice that Phish is feeling so grounded. But on this album, a little mellow goes a long way.