On Elvis Day*, 2024 I woke up in a field of tents in Dover, Delaware. All things considered I’d had an excellent rest, due in no small part to my brand-spanking new blackout tent and even newer ultra-comfy air mattress sleeping pad thingy, not to mention the general fatigue that is part-and-parcel to any Phish festival. Even when you’re camped in the “upscale” Glen Close VIP camping section which, as I’ve mentioned elsewhere, was not very VIP at all**.

I mean sure, there were nice non-porto-potty bathrooms and trailers full of relatively clean shower stalls, but these amenities were surprisingly far from our campsite. So much so that when I finally did emerge from my slumber all I could think about was how happy I was that I’d made it through the night without having to get up and skip to the loo. Of course as soon as I stepped out of my tent I bee-lined there, but I had the foresight to bring my shower kit with me so I could get ‘er all done in one trip.

Purged and cleansed, I hunkered down with my crew (both old and new) in our sprawling campsite for what proved to be a very hot day and tried to move as little as possible. It was good.

And y’know what else was good? Phish. Phish was also good.

I spent the show beside the Helio, which was a two-storey building/installation replete with Vegas-style lighting that offered an elevated view of the concert pitch. It was pretty cool and surprisingly roomy up there, but given the option I’ll usually stick to the dirt in a concert situation. Beside and slightly in front of the Helio was a pretty sweet spot because it was basically dead-centre to the stage and I couldn’t see the rather distracting flashing lights of the Helio behind me.

And like I mentioned, when the band came out they were on fire. The first set opened with Bouncing Around the Room and included Peaches en Regalia, Divided Sky, and Reba. I can’t remember the last time I saw them play Peaches and it’s been a lot of shows since I’ve heard them close a first set with one of their standard show-closers, Character Zero.

(And my goodness the sound was so great where I was standing. So much better than the spot I’d had on the previous night, where two delayed speaker towers battled for my aural attention all night. It’s truly amazing how good outdoor concerts can sound nowadays.)

Things just kept getting better after the setbreak. The band went full-on psychedelic starting with the set-opening My Friend, My Friend – which is one I always, always love to hear – and things just kept getting trippier and trippier right through to the Harry Hood>First Tube encore (again, two songs that I never tire of hearing). Ah, it was such great music, and with a huge special mention to Mike Gordon; to my ears his bass playing ruled the day, no question.

Just behind the Helio stood a line of tall trees, and suspended high up in these trees were a bunch of large inflatable eyeballs. This was one of a handful of added touches that helped to elevate the festival experience. I thought those eyeballs were a kick and giggling about them helped me kill time waiting for the super-not-secret secret set.

Y’see, Phish festivals always include a “secret” late night improv set at some point throughout the weekend but everyone is aware of this so it’s hardly secret at all. The only questions are generally: which night and where on the site?

But this one was extra not secret because during the show Trey told the crowd to stick around because they would be playing a late night extra improv set on the stage afterwards.

Talk about blowing the surprise.

Also no surprise: the secret-not-secret set was awesome. I suspect that I like ambient improvised music as much – if not significantly more – as the next guy, and this is exactly what we got for a solid late-night hour, as a very warmed-up Phish eschewed song and form and simply bled sound from behind a curtain/screen that sheltered the band from the view of the audience and added a punchline to the end, when the date and the word “PLAY” appeared as if we had all been watching a videocassette play out on the huge screen.

It was amazing. It was all amazing. Then we all walked to a thousand campsites and partied until we couldn’t anymore.

*August 16th.

**That said, over the entire weekend I never once stepped foot in the regular campground which, if the VIP campground could be used as a measuring stick, must have been a crater-ridden stinking wasteland susceptible to roaming groups of rabid racoons and any number of other loathsome thieves and/or vicious marauders.

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