If, like me, you hold a special place in your heart for 93-95, for Machine Gun Trey, for the jubilantly hosed-out, maximalist arena rock version of Phish, well, do yourself a favor and give this show a spin. You will already be familiar with the elegiac Slave from ALO and, very likely, the record-holding masterpiece of a Bowie, but those two, brilliant as they are, simply do not tell the whole story.

The entirety is just so deftly played, from the absolutely pummeling Myfe > Possum, Guyute intro through the grinning, victory lap encore of Rocky Top. What's perhaps most notable, if not strictly amazing, given the overall quality of execution from this era, is that there's not a dud in the bunch. Song selections that, to some, might look like lulls - or at least rote - on paper, feel fresh, joyful, even vital. If I Could, Poor Heart, Cavern, and Sample positively shimmer with that 94 energy. What's more, alongside the rightfully regarded canon of the Bowie and Slave performances - and, heck, even Sweet Adeline feels like a perfectly placed breath after nearly 40 minutes of the former - are riveting, goose-bump-inducing takes on Foam and Lizards.

There is certainly no shortage of other contenders - 1994 alone has so many transcendent crushers (Bomb Factory, Chicago, Columbus, Providence, Sugarbush, Red Rocks, the White Album, for crying out loud) - that move me. But, gosh, as @hoodharry opened their review of this particular monster, "This is my all time favorite phish concert. This for me is the epitome of why I love phish."

Amen, Mr. Hood, amen.