Phish - Hampton Comes Alive December 16, 1999 - Spin Magazine by Jeff Weiser Album Review - Hampton Comes Alive When they're not discovering homonymic glee in the similitude between "ph" and "f" phonemes in American English, Phish phollowers espouse an egalitarian social scheme as banal as their band's lyrics are silly ­ "Do your own thing, bro" and "It's all good" are refrains at least as common as "Run like an antelope/out of control" in any pre-show parking lot. Yet Phish culture has merely exchanged standard football-and-cheerleaders style elitism for an alternate social currency based on the degree of one's devotion to the band. The right answer to "How many shows have you been to?" (I've found that large prime numbers work well) will probably earn you a puff or two of marijuana [note: this is the same thing as "nugs," etymologically related to nuggets, the shape of a "bud"]. And if you weren't too baked to recall a particular rendering of "Tweezer" from last year's Fall Tour, you just may establish a lifelong friendship bound to last at least as long as your high. But whatever the criterion for acceptance, Phish's fanbase is at least as homogeneous as N-Sync's-which is why I'll listen from home until they learn to respect a blue pin-striped suit that doesn't belong to the upper-middle-class attorney paying the admission (otherwise known as "Dad.") Hampton Comes Alive-note the pun on 1970's live music self-indulgence, if you haven't already done so-is the perfect album for fans too scared or too mature to weather the stench of dreadlocks and fraternity caps; fans whose attendance tally will never eclipse double digits; and fans who aren't even sure they like recreational drugs. In short, this album's for the people who love the music for its own sake, but frankly could do without the aspirational hippie lifestyle thank you very much. It's true that the previously released A Live One and Slip, Stitch and Pass showcased Phish's trademark performance prowess, but they also revealed that compiled live tracks can never capture the ebb and flow of anything properly called a "show" (not a "concert"). Recorded on consecutive nights at the Hampton Coliseum in Virginia ­ one of the band's favorite venues-Hampton Comes Alive leaves the indelible imprint of that great local bar band that for one fleeting moment stood on the precipice of superstardom; the band that breaks down laughing in the middle of covering the Beastie Boys' "Sabotage" because they're playing with equal parts reverence and irony; the band that owes a greater debt to Television than the Grateful Dead, whatever their reputation. I could mention that the second set of the first night of Hampton Comes Alive contains stellar versions of "Bathtub Gin" and "Character Zero," that the sixth disc's "Free" is the best I've ever heard, or that "Bold as Love" far outdoes "Tubthumping" as a cover track. But these statements say a lot more about me than they do about the band. Phish set out to capture their live act, and they've done it successfully: Hampton Comes Alive is as elusive as any half-remembered six-hour performance, completely incommensurate with summary or speech.