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Within the thirteen recordings that comprise Phish’s Big Boat, there is an excellent album that would accurately mirror the collective persona Phish has nurtured over three-decades (on and off) as well as the theme of mortality members of the band have referenced in some discussions of the record. As configured, however, the group vision is clouded with redundant tracks that, were they excised, would allow the seven remaining cuts to resonate with great clarity. This statement of purpose would be further reaffirmed with instrumental segments faded-in and out from the ornately-arranged opus of Trey Anastasio’s “Petrichor” (which, placed at the end of the record, seems like something of an afterthought at its full thirteen-minutes plus length).
Drummer Jon Fishman’s “Friends,” from which this album’s title derives, is an extremely effective (secondary) opener on its own terms and, with its Who-like crescendos, dramatically sets the stage for the following cut. Comprised of an acoustic guitar foundation layered with spunky horns, “Breath and Burning” sounds like the first of a two-part yin-yang composition along with “Tide Turns” and, ideally, Mike Gordon’s “Waking Up Dead” would immediately follow: this quirky, somewhat tongue-in-cheek tune of the bassist’s combines readily-identifiable group vocal harmonies interwoven into its unpredictable time changes.
The resonant audio mix of Big Boat maximizes the impact of the dense intricate textures that comprise Page McConnell’s “I Always Wanted It This Way” and in this context, the keyboardist’s number sounds like an abstract sonic representation of the mixed feelings percolating in Gordon and Fishman’s songs. Which, in turn, connects directly with Anastasio’s “Miss You, ”a somewhat conventional semi-ballad that elevates in intensity via the author’s protracted guitar solo during which he embroiders upon the melancholy he so directly expresses in the lyrics about his deceased sister (composed by the guitarist himself rather than lyricist Tom Marshall).
Following those two numbers, “More” sounds like nothing so much as a restatement of that melodic and emotional motif, almost a mirror image in fact. While this tune might’ve concluded Big Boat on something of an unresolved note, it’s more in keeping with the tone of the opening number and effectively formulates a true song cycle, in which string and horn-laden selections from “Petrichor,” inserted between those designated numbers, maintain the atmosphere and momentum conjured up within the approximately forty-five minutes.
Such a collection of tracks leaves out five cuts on Big Boat, but Phish and producer Bob Ezrin, who’s worked with Pink Floyd and Peter Gabriel, would fashion a much more cohesive album with such edits, validating the truism ‘less is more.’ Anastasio’s collaborations with lyricist Tom Marshall, “Time Is Running Out,” “No Men in No Man’s Land” and “Blaze On,” would all function as the core of a solo album (especially the latter as it’s too similar to “Breath and Burning”), while McConnell’s “Home” and “Things That People Do,” also work better as personal expression of the author alone.
There’s nothing intrinsically sub-par with either those numbers or the recordings of them. Yet they don’t sound of a piece, thematically, with Trey’s four other self-composed numbers, especially when those more artful pieces are integrated with his three bandmates’ compositions. In fact, it’s almost if those six ‘other’ tunes were included precisely because Phish didn’t want to more directly address the psychic undercurrent of the suggested sequence of material.
With fully a dozen studio albums to their credit now, it’s reasonable to suggest Phish should produce their next effort by themselves. After all, the band long ago learned to trust themselves on stage and, having reconfigured their interpersonal/instrumental relationship(s) since their 2009 reunion, to trust themselves in the recording studio only seems natural.
Photo by Brantley Gutierrez
One Response
Great article. Agreed. Nonetheless, Phish is the best.