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I find the stuff posted here, especially but not limited to BrotherEarth's first couple posts, very curious and ultimately unsettling, for such perspectives seem to dismiss and even antagonize the fact that many, many people have used websites like this one as a place for thoughtful, helpful and, yes, sometimes challenging dialogue for a very long time. (It feels lame and unnecessary to invoke "tradition," but I suppose on some level it's unavoidable.) B.E. and others seem to believe that they approach the conversation with a mind more opened than others', but ultimately their views on the type of critical feedback that should be allowed following shows, along with the way shows should be discussed after-the-fact, suggest that they ultimately believe Phish's music is something to be consumed on the individual basis, enjoyed for its private, personal significance, and then discarded with little to no lasting relevance.
I don't mean to suggest that all show reviews and discussions must run thick with criticism and historical references; in fact, in the past, I sometimes found reviews posted by first-timers to be the most insightful, for they helped reignite my own passion and helped put things in context. But, as best as I can remember, they also seemed to respect and engage with the larger, critical conversation, to build off of it and find root in it, rather than dismiss or even antagonize it. This critical conversation serves several important functions to thousands of people, and has been taking place for many years more than many people, myself included, have been on this website. A lot of the comments on here are akin to, say, visiting friends or family for a weekend and, before dinner starts, declaring, very loudly, "I'm not sure how you usually do things around here, but while I'm visiting, we're only going to discuss the subjects I want to discuss, and from the point of view I think we should all have." This is, of course, counterproductive, unenjoyable, and ultimately damaging to the community.
Let me put it in more Phish-related terms. Back when I was new to the scene I relied heavily on critical reviews and analytical discussion threads of shows--given that I had limited time and resources, I wanted to digest thoughtful, rational opinions that would lead me to shows and jams one new to the band should hear right away. This very principle could help lead a newcomer who really likes, say, the song "Halley's Comet" to 11/22/97 before, say, 9/29/99, which I think most would agree is a good thing. Whether or not those who preach the "in-the-moment" philosophy--a philosophy that I in principle greatly acknowledge and respect--truly find little value in critically listening to past tapes (which I have a hard time believing), I hope they understand that it is still a practice very significant to the longevity of the fan following and the band itself.
Additionally, acknowledging and engaging--thoughtfully, open-mindedly--in critical Phish conversations can be stimulating, valuable, and, yes, fun. I still remember walking out of the 11/7/98 show in Chicago utterly blown away, thinking I'd just heard in the "Mike's" and "ACDC Bag" two top-five all-time versions (in retrospect I was right about the "Bag," not about the "Mike's" . Although the show seems nowadays to be viewed in a better critical light, at the time I was stunned, even a bit hurt, that initial reviews dismissed, and sometimes trashed, the show. But what followed became one of my most treasured Phish experiences: for several years, while hanging out at home, on lot, and at parties, I touted and played for many people those two jams, and would like to think I helped them see their power, and indeed the quality of an entire show people might otherwise have disregarded. I'd also like to think that the result of using this personal "in-the-moment" experience to engage in critical response, rather than dismissing or antagonizing it, brought about great pleasure and even pride in my relationship to this particular show, while sharing powerful music with others.
To follow the logic of BrotherEarth and several others on here, however, there might be little need to critically distinguish between that 11/7 "Bag" and, say, the 4/15/04 one, so long as I had a great time before, during and after the 4/15 show. (And I do hope it still goes without saying that for thousands of people out there, and certainly for many readers of this site, "having a great time" at a Phish show is tantamount to critically digesting the quality and uniqueness of a given jam, even in the moment.)
This becomes particularly troubling if one is, for example, trying to turn someone who is into improvisational music, but has never heard Phish, onto the band. If I decide to just go ahead and play the 4/15 "Bag" over the '98 one because I remember having a good time in Vegas, well, this would be a travesty--right?--because odds are the person would assume a queer look on her/his face and simply walk away, for that 4/15 "Bag" is one of the all-time debacles in Phish's performance history.
This to me is perhaps the most harmful consequence of this "in the moment" groupthink pervading such conversations: it completely emphasizes the self-serving personal memory, even if the memory feels shared with the thousands of others in attendance, rather than the opportunity to share and spread the music that possesses the best chance to turn others onto the band. (And I'm saying this not from the point of view that all Phish before 2003 is the best Phish.) It also obliterates the ability and need to shape narratives around the critical reception of Phish shows and tours--another aspect that is vital to the longevity and significance of Phish culture. Without critical hindsight, there is no need to distinguish a Summer '93, December '95, Fall '97, or, if you prefer, Summer '03 or even Summer '11. I remember one of the greatest pleasures of being a Phish fan was, even years after the fact, understanding and reflecting upon these specific "tour narratives," for it helped me feel as if I had tapped into and understood some greater whole, some greater purpose to the fan following, something that felt truly monumental. But if there's little or no need to distinguish between Vegas '96 and Vegas '04, because to do so discounts the good time I had at one event over the other, there's nothing at stake other than personal memory and even nostalgia. And by the way, one of the greatest aspects of collecting and critically acknowledging past Phish shows is that it still allows you to live "in the moment," for it is very much in-the-moment to re-listen to old shows and reflect upon them in the context of more recent shows.
Finally, and perhaps as a way to kindle further conversation, this has all made me think about something regarding the way the Phish scene absorbs music in the present day. Just an idea, a seed of a conversation, and not an argument I'd pursue to the grave. I'm sure I'm not the first to think about it or bring it up:
I wonder if the all-pervasive nature of Phish's live music nowadays--the internet and theater broadcasts, the instantly downloadable shows, the various streaming applications, the nature of shuffling through songs on iTunes--might naturally result in an inevitable devaluing of the need for looking critically upon the past. One form of media is not necessarily better than another--anyone who still has to physically move thousands of discs of shows even when they're rarely listened to can attest to the benefit of digital music--but it wouldn't seem surprising to learn that the perceived "value" of an entire Phish show, let alone tour, is on the decline in favor of some more fragmented listening experience. Likewise for the surge in social media: perhaps we've very quickly acclimated to sharing the in-the-moment significance of personal experience rather than spending time reflecting upon it--maybe it's no coincidence that a lot of these discussion thread posts carry little more substance than Tweets. And finally, perhaps the extremely high price of Phish tickets these days also accounts in some way for an increasing reluctance to critically engage shows, for when $60 is at stake, maybe we're less willing to admit we've spent it from time to time on a less-than-satisfactory product. I don't mean this in a condescending, ignorance-is-bliss sort of way, but rather in the very human, very self-rationalizing way one might also, for example, spend lots of money during a night on the town, then pass the next few days explaining to her/himself that the money was well-spent, worth the good times, no question about it.