, attached to 2012-06-16

Review by Fondue

Fondue Step Into The Sewer Pt 2

After a night of blackjack at a table full of Phish fans, I woke up nice and late and ready for more. Day 2 brought it from the first note, even though the first set had little exploration to speak of. What it did have was 13 very tightly played tunes. Then there’s set 2… Smart, explorative, occasionally sloppy and totally brilliant. The band was ready to go anywhere and try anything. Light alone was worth the price of admission. And as if looking for a little extra punctuation, the GTBT encore took heads clean off bodies. Really, it did. I saw heads all over the lawn on the way out. Poor bastards.

What you can’t see in the download – a greatly increased crowd size from night one. If someone said it was double Friday, I wouldn’t be surprised. It was also a crowd that desperately wanted to party. I stood roughly where I was the night before, but it couldn’t have been a more different experience. The crowd was pushy and shovey throughout most of the show and it got very sloppy up front. Guy behind me rage-puked so hard I thought I saw part of an intestine on the ground, another dude hardcore face planted during Wolfman’s. His buddies righted him, my wife (who sadly missed Friday’s show) gave him her bottle of water, and off they swayed. And that was all before the set break.

I had no idea how many more people were there until after Phish kicked our teeth in with that GTBT. The field was just a mass of bodies all moving toward the gates, yet no line at the ol Spicy Pie. Couldn’t resist, got a slice, and made my way out. Albany Avenue, the four-or-so lane road that bears fresh losers out of AC and soon-to-be losers in, was completely shut down to traffic. It was wall-to-wall fans, and it was kind of awesome. We looked like an invading force, only armed with more happiness and euphoria than AC probably deserves.

Tonight had another kind of “unlicensed vendor,” only this one had ice cream. In the thickest south jerz accent you can imagine, he was yelling, “Yyyyo Phish. Fudgie Wudgies. Choco Tacos. One buck. Whaddya say.” A straightforward offer like that is tough to refuse, but somehow I found the strength. One more night! Woot!


Phish.net is a non-commercial project run by Phish fans and for Phish fans under the auspices of the all-volunteer, non-profit Mockingbird Foundation.

This project serves to compile, preserve, and protect encyclopedic information about Phish and their music.

Credits | Terms Of Use | Legal | DMCA

© 1990-2021  The Mockingbird Foundation, Inc. | Hosted by Linode