Commerce City CO: Phish 9/3/11
Dicks and Wristbands
The undeniably talented Vermont jazz rock quartet Phish put on its stadium face last night at Dick's Sporting Goods Park in the petrochemical fog of Commerce City, Colorado. Before being too hard on Dicks, be grateful for the superb Red Rocks, Telluride, and Broomfield shows -- only allowed as part of a Colorado package by promoter AEG which required this Dicks run to test drive the new soccer stadium for concerts. But lets hope that stadium shows are not the future of Phish, or, if they are, at least pray for more stadia with fewer dicks.
The head dicks at Dicks are idiots if not hard core dicks. Dicks used a two-tiered pricing plan, unheard of in the history (and ethos) of Phish. The women were separated from men, and the field people were separated from the stands people. The field was oversold and the crowded process for entry for "field people" included five separate lines: for sex-selection, security, scanning, hole punching, writsbanding, gluing your field stub to your forehead -- and then following the comical "up" and "down" staircases. You can't tell phishheads which way to go on a staircase, Dicks. Save your segregated wristband antics for some other act.
The field was covered in hard plastic mats, stale with spilled beer from Friday night and on which no one dared sit. Thousands of wristbanded pushing dicks roamed the field, aggressively staggering into whoever was next. Our group of five interlocked elbows and deflected at least 100 of these roving pushing blind wristbanded dicks. Even though stadium Phish has devolved into a contact sport, the band still rose above it all. The show was loose but loud, dry but dirty, and more than a mile high.
Set I:
Possum: The Colorado state marsupial. Played in honor of all of the modern ghost towns surrounding Denver.
The Moma Dance: At least 10,000 not dancing or paying attention. Their loss.
The Wedge: "You'll need a four car garage...."
Ocelot: Mike is carrying the tune and is the night's MVP.
Divided Sky: At least 10,000 fail to notice the clouds forming "phish" above the left of the stage -- a CK5 coup.
Funky Bitch: 10,000 on the floor in funk overload and another 10,000 wristbanded dicks pushing into them.
Axilla: Mike joins Trey on machine gun.
Llama: If only these pushing wristbanded Dicks would be polite enough to say "taboot."
Fast Enough for You: Gumbys melting all over the miracle sponge bobs.
Wolfman's Brother: More intricate than you remember. Can you imagine what it would look like if this performance were reduced to sheet music?
Slightly bruised from the marauding wristbanded field dicks, we retreat to the stands for Set II:
Down with Disease: "This has all been wonderful..." Mr. Anastasio puts this signature riff in his shirt pocket for easy use later in the show.
Tweezer: In quadrophonic sound due to a howling, growling female crooner in Section 132 who, surprisingly, was not tossed by the less-appreciative fans into the sea of dicks.
Golden Age: Wop wop wop. This TV on the Radio cover is maturing.
Limb by Limb: The sound is surprisingly good even from the top of the stands, but not good enough to hope for more stadium shows.
Kill Devil Falls: Phish's Cool Jerk.
2001: Page is the obvious star of this Strauss classic and of the band Phish. Nice to see the song pushed past the four minute version of Outside Lands.
Light: Just when you're thinking you might get Time Turns Elastic, Trey pulls Down with Disease back out of his pocket.
Julius: With nobody on the horn parts.
Cavern: Yes we understand Phish would rather be playing Red Rocks.
Run Like an Antelope: Spike man.
E: Sleeping Monkey -- Left over from Friday night.
Tweezer Reprise -- Freezers operate better in 9% humidity.
Stay puffed! See you tonight at Dicks!