[rating=8.00]
As a means to simultaneously address their longevity as an ensemble (they just hit their thirtieth anniversary December of 2013) and the challenge facing a fundamentally improvisational unit recording in the confines of the studio, Phish began working on Fuego as a collective endeavor in composition. That original concept changed as Bob Ezrin (Alice Cooper, Kiss, Pink Floyd, Peter Gabriel) entered the project as producer, but the group retains the outline of that idea by bookending material written by individuals with a handful of tunes written by the band as a whole.
The ten-track sequence beginning with the title song makes sense as this cut, close to ten minutes long (actually recorded at soundcheck the night before Phish debuted much of this material live), contains the odd time signatures and melodic twists, overlaid with whimsical lyrics, that distinguish the group’s vintage material. Their musicianship allows the track to breathe as group vocals allow for an extended exercise in dynamics arising naturally and directly from the bond Phish has forged over three decades. “The Line” continues in a similar vein, at least instrumentally, but with extra emphasis on Trey Anastasio’s lead singing as he renders a set of elliptical lyrics nevertheless infused with personal implication (“…a hero’s what I’m not…” “…my crucifixion shot…”)
Fuego, in fact, sounds far more close to the heart of Phish as a band than the far more literal-minded Joy. “Devotion to a Dream,” Anastasio’s collaboration with long-time lyricist Tom Marshall, is an outright embrace of pretzel logic, a direct expression on the futility of direct expression where the twirling sound of his guitar parallels the jaunty piano of Page McConnell, thus clarifying a positive notion sung so exultantly by the group: “It’s today! It’s today!!!…”
The latter’s openhearted “Halfway to the Moon” is redolent of his good-natured fortitude, not to mention the relish in the partnership he’s brought to Phish since the 2009 reunion. “555,” Mike Gordon’s contribution is a collaboration with Scott Murawski, the guitarist in his solo group, and like his comrades’ own tunes, carries an ominous undercurrent of ongoing struggle, unresolved but not unaddressed. An R&B/Gospel background chorus accentuates “555”’s earthy styling, thus making it an effective continuation from the two Anastasio/Marshall numbers that precede it. The horns on “Winterqueen” are more formal than funky though, while “Sing Monica” is the most conventional cut here, moving in four-square rock rhythms just when the album needs an anchor.
As if either approach were his forte, Jon Fishman’s a master at moving to this kind of simplicity from the dense intricacy with which he underpins “Waiting All Night,” Wombat” and “Wingsuit.” Bringing Fuego to a climax with approximately a quarter hour of words alternately tongue- in-cheek and unabashedly direct, Phish reinforce their emotional sentiments through interaction replete with finesse and empathy, assets highlighted by a truer clarity of sound (magnified from original recordings by Bob Ludwig’s mastering of Ezrin’s mix). This strategy reveals the increasingly assertive Gordon bass, but also via the harmony parts shared by each member, including some of the barbershop scatting they love.
The album might’ve benefitted from a more authoritative finish, but to leave listeners a bit hungry for more indicates the level to which Phish has cultivated self-restraint, a fundamental virtue at the heart of the music on Fuego.
