Phish's Final Set at Superball: Epic Liminality

After an amazing 7 sets of music (including the secret set), how was Phish going to lead us into the 4th of July? The way I experienced it, by musically opening the doors to the threshold between this world and the beyond, and playing a most beautiful tribute to the forefathers and foremothers of our country, especially to the native peoples of the land we danced upon. This may sound strange or perhaps you experienced it this way too. Either way, please join me as I share my musical encounter.

I could not believe it when "Big Balls" opened the set. It was so fun and hilarious with Fishman referencing our own party. And yes, we probably did have the biggest ball of them all. How strangely apropos it was to sing that phrase out loud together. Where else in the US of A was anything like Superball happening? Then we all got down with disease, and it felt like the party had just started all over again... that is until the jam slowly morphed into musical abstraction and the eerie stirrings of the rhodes organ emerged.

It had never occurred to me to listen to "No Quarter" on the 4th of July. But as soon as the full band and the lights kicked in for this song, I felt that bittersweet longing for universal freedom; bittersweet because freedom has always come at a cost, especially when those who paved the way were asking no quarter. It is a muddle of confused emotions. Our country, and all countries for that matter, have long and complicated histories. Many people were decimated, marginalized, and outcast for the sake of freedom. This is never to be forgotten. But it is also true that many sacrifices were made for the freedom of many and that freedom is easy to take for granted, i.e. being able to enjoy a Phish festival like we just did. I felt a deep sense of gratitude at that moment. When Page sang, "They carry news that must get through to build a dream for me and you", it was a powerful reminder that despite the misdirected sufferings that have come throughout history, gratitude is still to be had for those who helped to bring us the freedom we have today. And if you listen closely, Page even beckoned us to "think about it, no quarter", conflicted as it may be.

After this intense masterpiece of great pathos, Fishman's drums rolled revolutionary style, and lightened up the mood with Party Time. The celebration was full on, tension and release style, as Phish often likes to do. From the intensity of "No Quarter" to the sheer fun of "Party Time", the set continued with "The Story of the Ghost". It was during this song that I felt the doors open to the liminal zone. "But maybe he's still with me, the latch was left unhooked..." Phish drew out the sound of the gate of the threshold opening for an especially long time. When the song kicked back in, it felt as if I was dancing with many souls around me. The Native American spirits, the spirits of those whose lives were prematurely lost in many times of war: soldiers, civilians, and indigenous alike, and so on. This was the story of the ghosts during this set: Perhaps grooving together for the sake of peace and reconciliation and the progress of further freedom for all people alive today and those whose souls have not been able to rest. Perhaps this spirit dance led to the very intimate version of Gotta Jibboo that followed. It was delicate and soulful. A chance to share in tenderness and sweet caress and joy. A spirit dance for the ages.

The music then led our spirits and the spirits of those around us to the "Light" where we are "finally waiting for nothing at all", and the fences and obstacles of the past have become filters and stepping stones to grow closer to the light. Towards the end of the jam, Page laid down what sounded like a sonic transport to the next realm as Trey playfully danced towards the light which then ebbed and flowed into "Waves". Perhaps like Prince Caspian, perhaps like the elves making their way to the West. And I watched the waves on the flag that was held up high in front of me blow in the wind in front of the beautiful lights from the stage. Everything seemed to come together at that moment.

Phish then musically performed their own national anthem, more of a universal anthem, "What's the Use?". This was the moment of transcendence or imminence, depending on whether you focus on the upward or downward themes which happen simultaneously from Trey and Page in this epic song. Listening to them both, the two worlds from both sides of the threshold merge, passing through the open door. Some choose to stay here, some choose to go beyond. Both are beautiful. Hopefully the two worlds will fully unite one day in time and timelessness. This is the place that Phish opened up for me musically. This is what I experienced, and I invite you to experience as well.

After this sojourn, with its "Fire on the Mountain" variation, "Meatstick" was a meaningful and playful homage to the spirit of a wonderful man who once played at Watkins Glen and paved the way for an event like this. He was surely one of the many spirits who were dancing with us at this time. And when the Japanese lyrics were being sung, gratitude flooded my heart as I gazed upon the waving flag, and I reflected on how far we have come in the past 70 years. Those who were once our "enemies" are now cherished friends. And these lyrics, and the playfulness of how they were performed, epitomized that emotion. Maybe someday with more peace and forgiveness, it can be that way universally. But as it stands it seems that our nation and our leaders are still "Stealing Time from the Faulty Plan". We still at times have a blank space where our minds should be. Hopefully that can continue to change because we all have a "dream of being free", especially those who have lesser freedoms than others.

"The Star-Spangled Banner" was an appropriate ending to what I consider one of the most unorthodox, yet universal, musical, and epic expressions of independence and freedom on our national holiday. Phish did it once again! I don't know how much of what I experienced at the show was experienced by others. I don't know how much of it the band intended. Probably some of it just happened as the collective energy of all present intermingled with a beautiful synergy. The fireworks with "First Tube" were spectacular. And as the song ended and Simon and Garfunkel's "America" was played so gently through the speakers, tears rolled down my face as I felt the emotions of the many immigrants who struggled to make their way to this land of freedom. A land where an experience such as this could only happen.

With gratitude to Phish, their entire organization, Watkins Glen, and to all of you,

Markus Langus