There are nights that change your life that you are conscious of as they are happening. Some you realize the next day or a few days later. Looking back, April 18, 1994 was a night that my life changed forever and it took me 14 years to realize just how important it was. It’s the day I walked out of my dorm room down South College Avenue and into the Bob Carpenter Center on the campus of the University of Delaware for my first Phish show.

Some dude, fittingly named Jimmy, that lived on my floor literally walked down the hall handing out tickets to anyone that wanted one and in a giant pack, we were off. At that point, I knew as much about Phish as your average Northeast Corridor college student in 1994 - the drummer wore a dress and played a vacuum, they were sort of like the Grateful Dead but I wasn’t sure how and they had a catchy song called Bouncing Around the Room. But the legend of their concerts had already begun to spread and I knew if nothing else, it was a great chance to get wasted with a lot of other people.

It turned out to be a fuck of a lot more than that.

On paper, my first show boasted your typical 1994 setlist. There were some oddities - a Mike’s Song with no Weekapaug Groove, a dedication of Ya Mar by Trey to his now wife Sue. But the music was mindblowing to a guy who had never heard it before. The tone that Trey squeezed out of that guitar, the jazzy way Page would insert himself into the mix, Gordon thumping away in his bright green jumpsuit, and that guy in the dress behind the kit holding it together with precision and power. And the overall combination of humor and seriously that always underlined Phish’s approach to performing. I can still close my eyes and see my view of the stage that night. I recall standing there during 2001 with the lights going and the music rocking and thinking I was seeing something special. I remember the bizarreness of My Friend My Friend and the rocking cover of Good Times Bad Times. I remember almost everything about that night.

READ ON for more of Luke’s thoughts on the return of the Phish…

My love for Phish’s music was born during those three hours and over the course of 10 years, I fed it, watered it, and watched it grow into an obsession. I listened to Phish all the time. Nothing else. I air-
Trey’d around the apartment. I bought the shirts and scoured the internet for discussions about Phish. I horded tapes and eventually moved onto CDs. I threw out over 1,500 analogs when I moved to NYC and currently have so many shows on disc, I don’t even bother adding to the collection because there is always something new I can find to make me fall in love all over again. I missed family gatherings and spent every vacation day and dollar I had (and about $15,000 that I didn’t have and still owe Citibank) to see Phish.

My love for Phish took me to places I would never have gone on my own - Antioch, Tennesee in the brutal heat of summer; middle-of-nowhere George, Washington for the most tremendous views I have ever seen; Plattsburgh, NY to join 80,000 people that drove up having been promised only two days, three sets each. It didn’t matter where or how far it was or what I had to do to get there, as long as I was going to see Phish, it was worth it.

I met my wife at a Phish show. We didn’t hang out or get to know each at Great Woods that night in August, 2004, but the first time I laid my eyes on her, and vice-versa, was on the lawn in that beat up old venue in Mansfield, Mass.

I met two of my best friends in the world, guys who served as groomsmen at my wedding, through another friend who met them on a Phish message board. I have met countless people through similar
message boards, through tape/cd trading or at shows. The people that are most important to me in this world all have ties to and love for Phish. And to me, that was and always will be the true legacy of this band. Even at the end, when the music was shaky and inconsistent, the fun times rolled on and the relationships grew.

Towards the end, there were many different reasons people went to see Phish. The parties had replaced the playing on the priority list of many fans and let’s face it, the band too on some nights. When the drummer is yelling “let’s be a foursome…let’s be a quartet” as the guitarist is scolding the bassist for his late-night partying ways, something is wrong.

Then Coventry, a truly unjust disaster for fans and band alike, forced us all away from the Northeast Kingdom with a terrible taste in our mouths. For a long time I hoped deeply that Phish never played together again. The prospect for awfulness was just too much in the forefront and too fresh in my mind. I wanted it to be left alone. I had my 1,200 CDs and was content that it was a great run that had come to an end in an unfitting way and that was that.

As the last four years went by, it became more and more obvious that these guys weren’t done. Once Trey had sorted out his legal problems, and even before then to some extent, the quotes started moving more towards “it’s a matter of when, not if” territory and eventually, it became a foregone conclusion that it would happen.

So when the official announcement of Phish’s return came, there was very little shock for anyone paying attention over the last year. The fact that the band members are not doing interviews strikes me as a good sign. Fuck the good pub and press. Fuck the promotion. Just put some real energy and effort into practicing and go out there and kick some ass. Play your hearts out. As fans, that’s all we can ask.

I personally have mixed feelings about the reunion. A big part of me was disappointed that they decided to come back, but these reasons are selfish on my part. I’ve pretty much moved on from that “Phish-centered” point in my life in every way. My days of 16 shows in 18 days in 12 states are long behind me. And part of me also had hoped that the 20-year lightning in a bottle torpedo that was Phish was one of those things that was exclusive to those that were on board for Phish 1.0.

But on March 6 in Hampton, VA, the site of so many ups (1997, 1998) and a few downs (2003, 2004), our eyes will again shift to those four guys on stage and we’ll see if the magic is back. If it is, I think I will feel invigorated and young again. If it isn’t, I still plan to dance my ass off.