10 Years Later: Phish in Japan Pt. 3
In June 2000, Phish played their only headlining tour through Japan. A few dozen American travelers joined several hundred newly initiated Japanese phans on a phenomenal seven-night run of intimate venues, resulting in a series of fiery shows, unique cultural exchanges and the birth of the Japanese Meatstick. Longtime fan Stanch had been living and teaching English in Japan for a year when Phish arrived. In honor of the 10-year anniversary of the tour, and with help from a detailed journal and inputs from his traveling companions, he recounts his memories of the tour’s first four shows.
06/10/00 Zepp, Koto-ku, Tokyo
The second show of the 2000 Japan run was actually an add-on – there had originally only been six scheduled shows, but unanticipated interest and hot ticket sales had seen the promoters schedule an additional gig in Odaiba – a large artificial island in Tokyo Bay that was an odd combination of Coney Island and Disney’s Tomorrowland.
[Photo via JohnGreene.org]
Odaiba itself seems more memorable to me than the actual gig. Accessible by a futuristic Sky-Tram, the glow of lights from its many billboards and giant blue Daikanransha Ferris Wheel was visible for the last several minutes of the approach to the island. Once we departed the Tram, we made our way to Zepp, at the time Tokyo’s newest and hottest club. In comparison to some of the other sub-500 capacity venues from the tour, Zepp was a virtual colossus that held 2,700 people. It sure didn’t seem like they squeezed only 2,700 people in there – I still remember the general admission show as uncomfortably packed and topping out at what felt like 110 degrees.
- 10 Years Later: Phish in Japan Pt. 1, Pt. 2
The show itself was solid, though I remember it as the least compelling of the first four nights I saw. The setlist was very standard for 2000, including several oft-played tunes from the newly released Farmhouse. The first set was punctuated by a Disease and Piper that totaled about 50 minutes, 42 of which were quiet and spacey (possibly induced by the dreaded day four jetlag). I am all for folks choosing their own Phish adventure, but that version of Phish is not the one that has had me coming back for the last 17 years, and thus maybe colors my memory of the show. That said, my jaded ho-hum attitude aside, some folks were having an amazing time; the best part of the Zepp show was watching our new Japanese friends enjoy certain parts of the gig so much. READ ON for more from Stanch on Phish’s tour of Japan…
Notable was the Japanese reaction when Page got up from the piano and sang crooner style for Lawn Boy: they freaking loved it. You sometimes forget how these familiar gimmicks are old hat – but watching people be surprised by, and so enjoy, this rehearsed showmanship actually made it more fun for many of us who were no longer fazed by it.
A gimmick that must have made a strong impression from the night before was the band’s use of trampolines during YEM. As if the trampoline maneuver was available on demand, the guy next to me, an apparent acrobatics enthusiast, kept yelling for them to “use tlamporeen!” between each song. Also of note was the Japanese reaction to Heavy Things. The song was actually getting some solid airtime from a Japanese-American DJ who worked Tokyo’s most popular alternative music afternoon drive show, and the Japanese fans loved Phish’s second set opener. Many Japanese were also floored by the Loving Cup closer, as they didn’t know the cover was a standard in the Phish repertoire, and it resulted in a high energy sing-along. In all, a solid show, but it pales when you compare it to the two titans it was sandwiched between.
06/11/00 Hibiya Outdoor Theatre, Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo
Hibiya outdoor park is a gem in Tokyo’s sprawling urban metropolis. A bit akin to Central Park in NYC, it is nestled between Tokyo’s busiest financial districts and the gardens of the Emperor’s Imperial Palace. Tucked away within the park is Hibiya Outdoor Theatre, a small amphitheater that holds about 3,000. It would host Phish’s final Tokyo show of the tour – a terrific afternoon affair that started with the threat of rain and ended with some folks trying to convince me that Trey was a wizard.
[Photo via Russ Kahn's Phish in Japan Page]
Only 12 or so hours after we had made our way from the previous night’s Odaiba show, we were already making our way through Hibiya Park to the music venue. When we arrived, the show had the vibe of a day-game after a night-game. Folks were still shaking off their short sleep from the night before and trying to get their game faces on for the next event. The weather wasn’t promising to cooperate – it was raining lightly, and it seemed likely that this might be a wet one.
This show had the run’s only opening act – a Japanese jamband called Big Frog. They played a solid hour-long set as we stood in the Greek style amphitheater under a light rain. As if on cue, the rain stopped about 45 seconds before Phish came on stage to a raucous welcome. Many Japanese weren’t following the band onto Nagoya, and they planned to make this one count. Phish would give them plenty to work with.
The first set was terrific and featured great versions of Punch You in the Eye, only the second It’s Ice in more than two years and a well received Stash. Again, it was watching the Japanese fans that really stuck out in my memory of that first set. This was the first time almost any of them had seen Phish two or three days in a row, and you could tell they were settling in nicely to the groove. The energy was high, and jumping and fist pumping were everywhere. People were leaving it all out on the field.
The second set was terrific, and the energy was high. After making their way through ripping versions of Birds of a Feather and Free, Phish segued a great Bug into David Bowie. In the daylight, and on the elevated perch of an amphitheater seat (as opposed to the flat GA spaces of On Air East and Zepp), Hibiya was terrific for people watching, and I especially noticed how many Japanese fans were very familiar with Bowie’s many twists and turns. There really were a number of Japanese fans that knew this material well – they weren’t passive onlookers, they were active participants following its many changes.
The set ended magically (at least that’s what folks tried to convince me). Phish closed the second set with an emotional Harry Hood. Eerily similar to the way the sun broke through overcast clouds during the first notes of Trey’s Sample guitar solo at the 2009 Fenway Park show, as the first notes of the Hood jam began, the sun finally broke through a sky that had been overcast the entire show. Warm golden rays poked through in spots and shined onto the crowd, and it responded by ratcheting up the energy.
It was one of those moments you can’t quite describe: that crowd responded to Phish’s very tangible notes with increased emotion and energy that were totally intangible but simultaneously so palpable. The band fed off of it, and the fan-favorite peaked to a tremendous crescendo: an anthemic, tension and release ending to Phish’s stay in Tokyo. Through Hood’s final moments, many of the Japanese fans displayed expressions that will stay with me forever. As they soaked in what they knew were the final notes of a once-in a lifetime experience, they had that look of marathon runners on the final mile: exhausted and transformed. As the band left the stage, Trey grinned, nodded his head, and offered several “arigato”s, bowing each time slightly. Many in the crowd turned to hug each other and us. And then came the magic.
As Phish returned for the encore, the clouds over the venue parted, again as if on cue, and among the biggest rainbows I have ever seen sprang from the sky and seemed to end right near the amphitheater. It was like Phish was the rainbow’s pot of gold. This all happened in a matter of seconds, and the crowd went crazy. Even Phish could see part of the rainbow, which took up what seemed like a third of the sky. The band had been all smiles the entire show, and they really seemed to appreciate this moment as well. You can even hear Trey laugh a bit as a he sings the first verse of Character Zero, as if to say, “yeah, this has been an incredible three shows, but that is a bit much.”
[via Phantasy Tour]
But for some this was no miracle of science or happenstance, it was all the proof some folks needed: Phish was magic. The guys in front of me turned around, and began trying to explain frantically in Japanese what the rainbow meant. Bewildered, I motioned my surrender and explained – my Japanese is not nearly that good, you are going to need to slow down. One grabbed my shirt, as if to tell me not to leave: what they had to say was important. They conferred for a moment in an animated huddle, and one looked right at me, as if he had just discovered alchemy or something, and yelled in English, “Trey magic man! He red wizard! He sky owner!” I responded in Japanese with a phrase that seemed to really freak them out: “I can neither confirm nor deny.”
Check back tomorrow afternoon for the conclusion of Stanch’s four-part series on Phish in Japan.
- 10 Years Later: Phish in Japan Pt. 1, Pt. 2
“I can neither confirm nor deny”
:D
I also recall that some Dallas Stars fans alerted Trey that the Devils had won the Stanley cup.
Trey did not appreciate the news.
I CAN confirm that this story is GREAT.