A Bucket Full of Thoughts
Reflections on the End of Phish
By Paul Murin, guitarist of Phix

Written 8/23/04

I've been in a reflective state of mind ever since I got home from Coventry; it is still hard to get my mind around the idea that Phish is no more. Even though my Coventry experience was less than positive, I am glad I was a part of it. I have been a fan for 13 years--I first heard Phish in 1991, and by the end of 1992 I was completely on the bandwagon. I never was a full-on "tourhead" (was always too busy with bands, work, school, etc.), but I saw maybe 20-some shows between '92 and '94, and I collected somewhere in the neighborhood of two million live tapes (of course, this is before the CD burner became a household item). So, yes, there are old-school fans whose "credentials" run deeper than mine, and there are newer fans who've seen more Phish shows in one year than I've seen in my whole life, but I can still say that I feel a very profound connection to that band on many levels (maybe that's obvious when you hear me play). Because of that connection, and because of my little experience as a touring musician, I hope to offer up some insight on the end of Phish. I hope people do not think it pretentious of me to attempt to read into this situation; I just feel the need to bring a different perspective to the table because it seems to me that there's a lot of negativity and misunderstanding out there.

If you were at the Coventry shows, or if you've read peoples' reviews, you already know that the prevailing opinion is that the shows weren't very good. I'm not going to disagree; I was hoping that a couple killer shows would salvage an otherwise shitty weekend, and it didn't really happen. However, in contrast to much of what I've been reading on internet message boards, I am not upset about it, and I don't feel ripped off. In fact, seeing them onstage at Coventry gave me a better understanding of the reasons why Phish needs to break up. The fact that they couldn't muster up the energy to put on killer shows, even for their last shows ever, clearly showed all of us why they needed to bring this to an end.

This might be a somewhat subjective statement, but I'm willing to go out on a limb and say that between 1992 and 1997, Phish was at their prime. Prior to that, Phish was still in its developmental stages; by '92, they had fully hit their stride. They were putting on stellar shows every time they played; Rift had come out with a whole new batch of amazing. complex, and creative songs. Their jamming style seemed to have evolved into something new every time they went on the road. Trey's chops (and everyone else's for that matter) just kept getting better and better. They appeared unstoppable.

For a band to be that good requires an unbelievable output of energy. They would rehearse for hours every day, and when they weren't rehearsing, they were composing, practicing, and constantly thinking of new ideas to bring to the table. And this level of output started long before '92-it just took until '92 to really shine. For more than a decade, it was, I'm sure, all-encompassing. Very few (if any) of us will ever understand what it is like to create and maintain something so big. But I am fairly sure that no human being can keep up that level of output forever.

Starting around 1998, something started to change. You can hear it in their jamming style when you listen to Hampton Comes Alive, for example. Although their jams were still energetic and at times downright sick, there was something different about them. The jams just weren't as intense as they used to be. They began to take on a looser feel, almost in a Grateful Dead kind of way (not that there's anything wrong with that, but it just wasn't the same). They were less adventurous in terms of harmony (in other words, they tended to stay closer to "home" when they took off on a jam), and it just felt like they were taking fewer chances overall. It was also around this time that the shows started to be a little sloppier and less consistent; those perfect YEM's and Bowies became fewer and farther between. It just seemed like something was missing. Lots of people were talking about Trey's partying habits at that time too. I think, though, that whatever habits may or may not have been in place, they were more of a symptom than a cause of the problem.

So what, then, was the problem? Well, this is just my reading of the situation, but I think that they (and particularly Trey) had basically run out of energy. They were finding it harder and harder to devote their time to practicing or composing. Like I said before, to be as good as they were in '92-'97 required a huge output of energy. As time wore on, they got older and more tired and burned out, and the energy output began to drop off, and consequently the band simply wasn't as good as it used to be. This was presumably frustrating and discouraging to the guys in the band (and perhaps the aforementioned drug use was simply a failed attempt to find the magic again).

In any case, things didn't really pick up over the next couple years, and in 2000 they announced their hiatus. Trey has even admitted that the hiatus was an attempt to replenish their energy, but when they came back in 2002, it didn't really look to me like it worked. The comeback shows were a little disappointing (especially the infamous mulligan on YEM in Hampton), although I must admit I thought they played a pretty damn good show in Denver. But from that time right up until the end, they still suffered from inconsistency and sloppiness. They had their moments, for sure, but it wasn't really any better than it had been in '98-'00, and it certainly wasn't as good as it was in '92-'97.

I should stop here and say that much of the music they played in '98-'04 was still amazing, still some of the best live music being played by anyone. I saw quite a few shows during that time, and I'm most definitely not trying to say that they didn't play anything good after '97. But (and I think many, if not most, old-school fans would agree) on the whole, they just weren't bringing it like they used to.

So, rather than continuing to struggle to recreate the magic, they have decided to hang it up. I'll admit the timing of the announcement was a little strange, right before their summer tour, but it's not the kind of news that's easy to sit on. Lots of people will say that Jerry Garcia and the Grateful Dead kept going for so long, so why shouldn't Phish? Well, much of what the Dead played in their last few years was a mockery of what it had once been, and Jerry Garcia nevertheless played right up until it killed him. To me, it's pretty obvious why Phish doesn't want to head down that road.

Rumors are already spreading that it's not actually over, but I think that it's not worth thinking about when or if they'll ever play together again. For now I think that each of them (and especially Trey) needs to feel like it's done. Charlie Rose even asked Trey if he could imagine them getting back together, and Trey's response was that it would take "a huge amount of distance". A simple hiatus isn't good enough; they need to not be Phish any more, at least for a while. I think we owe them that understanding.

So, now Phish can go off and become the legends they deserve to be. We are all lucky enough to have been a part of it and to have seen the magic of Phish firsthand; our kids will only be able to read about it and wish that they were there. Meanwhile, Trey, Mike, Page, and Fish can have the distance they need from Phish and everything it represents, and we can look forward to the music they will all undoubtedly give us once their personal wells have been re-filled. Certainly their solo careers will flourish (I, for one, am particularly looking forward to hearing what Mike has to offer!), and maybe one day they'll even decide they just can't resist and they'll play together again. But we shouldn't all sit at the edge of our seats waiting for it to happen.

Nobody will ever be "the next Phish", but their departure will at least allow room for "the next big thing." Bands like Umphrey's McGee, String Cheese, Sector 9, the Disco Biscuits, etc. will likely see their crowds increasing. These bands are working their asses off, and deserve all of our support. I'll bet that we're going to see more and more bands showing a Phish influence (I keep hearing about Raq), and I think we should embrace those bands too because they clearly love the music as much as the rest of us. I mean, can you blame a band for being influenced by Phish?

Mostly, I think it is important that we see Trey and the boys as human beings. They seemed downright inhuman for a while, and during that time created a legacy of music that we've only just begun to see the impact of, but to keep it up was impossible. And that's what I felt at Coventry last week that made it seem so special--I felt their humanness. It was at the same time sad and beautiful. And somehow, it has deepened my love and respect for all of them and their music.

By Paul Murin, guitarist of Phix

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