Phish - Round Room January 19, 2003 - Kludge Magazine By Chris Good Album Review - Round Room A comprehensive 16 volume set of full length 3-disc shows released by Elektra during Phish's two and a half year hiatus treated Phish fans to a healthy dose of their favorite musical moments with the band. Notwithstanding, Phans have eminently anticipated Phish's return to the road, as tens of thousands embark on the trek to Madison Square Garden for a New Year's show that kicks off the Vermont band's first tour since fall of 2000. Along with the return of Phish to the stage comes a studio release of new songs entitled Round Room, the band's first since Farmhouse in 2000. The band intended to release an album by no means, although months of intensified practice sessions for the impending reunion yielded hundreds of recorded hours of new material. Amid song versions clearly in their brand new stages, along with atypical recording methods [live recordings of practice sessions mixed and cleaned up for release], Round Room simply generates the same feel that a live set of Phish does. Phans should place their copies of Round Room amongst their archives of past Phish bootlegs rather than alongside conceptual studio efforts such as Billy Breathes (1996) [produced by Steve Lillywhite] and Rift (1993). Phish customarily introduces their new song material on tour long before polishing and editing them in the recording studio. However, Round Room exhibits just the opposite; it allows the phans a chance to familiarize themselves to the new songs and styles that are undoubtedly the focal point of the upcoming tour. Admittedly, some of the songs on the album lack the trademark originality and light hearted craft which is so vital to the bands long term appeal. Two Anastasio/Marshall compositions, "Anything But Me" and "All of These Dreams," relay hackneyed phrases of idealistic sentimentality that lack the clever ambiguity usually evoked in Tom Marshall's lyrics. Moreover, these two tracks exemplify the burden of Phish's insistence to arrange a jam section within every song for no apparent reason. Along with "Mexican Cousin," these are merely songs that do not necessitate a solo section led by Trey's renowned guitar style. Surely, there are numbers on the album which are well reinforced by the bands legendary ability to improvise. Yet, with the aforementioned songs the 'jamming' attempts seem pointless. As with all other Phish releases, Round Room brings together the band's diverse musical flavor and hardly rests on a consistent style or theme. Mike Gordon's songwriting efforts, "Mock Song" and the title track show signs of the cheerful absurdity reflected in "Contact" and "Weigh," two of Gordon's older and most favored compositions. The end section of "Walls of the Cave" launches a new type of sound for the band. Led by Jon Fishman's pulsating drum beat, the song refreshingly suggests Phish is still experimenting with their sound to create new ideas. Opening track "Pebbles and Marbles" is a cut and dry epic of flowing figures and abrasive energy gripping its eleven and a half minute duration. The song demonstrates the free form side to Phish's music witnessed onstage but rarely captured on their studio releases. Likewise, the distortion on guitar and vocals along with Page's swirling organ "46 Days" is Phish playing their rawest blues ever: an overdue homage to their roots. The band's signature style of improvisation builds strongly yet fluidly on "Seven Below," "Walls of the Cave," and "Waves," and revive a style presented on their 1999 instrumental release, The Siket Disk. The effortless jamming style of "Seven Below" ignites the rekindling musical rapport that Trey Anastasio, Mike Gordon, Page McConnell, and Jon Fishman built upon over twenty years of personal kinship. The purpose of Round Room is clearly to introduce new material as well as capture Phish in a unique band practice setting. They did not intend to create a masterpiece, and accordingly one should not critique it on that basis. Furthermore, Round Room is far from a well-suited introduction to the band's music, not recommended but for the hardcore phan eager to hear the band's familiar style of carefree improvisation. There will even be phans who dismiss the album for not meeting their own particular preset ideal, which Trey mildly addresses in "Mexican Cousin": "I'm awful sorry you got pissed / Just have to cross you off the list / Of my true friends / And tequila's where it starts and where it ends." Copyright © 2003 Kludge Magazine