Phish

Want to know what a jam band is? You came to the right place: Phish was the living, breathing, noodling definition of the term. From its humble start in the mid-'80s touring around the New England college circuit, this Vermont quartet -- Trey Anastasio (guitar), Page McConnell (keyboards), Mike Gordon (bass), and Jon Fishman (drums) -- grew to become a cultural phenomenon, followed across the country from summer shed to summer shed by thousands of new-generation hippies and hacky-sack enthusiasts, and spawning a new wave of bands oriented around group improvisation and superextended grooves.

Comparisons to the mother of all jam bands, the Grateful Dead, are unavoidable, and in some cases warranted. Like the Dead, Phish had a pronounced fondness for the rustic and drew from a seemingly bottomless well of cover tunes. Like the Dead, Phish was helmed by a guitarist with a casual, conversational lead style who enjoys playing lots of notes. And like the Dead, Phish lacked a singer who's any more than competent. But in its frequent bursts of prog-style musical complexity as well as its taste for goofy humor (this is a band, after all, that incorporated trampolines, vacuum cleaners, and a giant hot dog into its concerts), Phish shows that it was very much its own entity.

It took a while for Phish to get its sound convincingly onto disc. The first five albums listed above all have great moments (the stunning replication of early-'70s Genesis on Lawn Boy's "The Squirming Coil," the Thelonious Monkish twists on A Picture of Nectar's "Magilla"), but inconsistency plagues them. Billy Breathes, The Story of the Ghost, and Farmhouse are much more like it, presenting an appealing rock/jazz/folk hybrid with a tasteful mix of looseness and precision. Cut quickly following a two-year hiatus, Round Room sounds undercooked, while The Siket Disc collects a few in-studio jams that are less than revelatory.

That brings us to the teensy-weensy matter of Phish's live albums, of which there are, at this writing, a mere 23. Though purists will argue, rightly, that you could only get the full Phish experience in person, many of these discs make a pretty decent substitute. The best is Hampton Comes Alive, which documents two November 1998 concerts in full. Only problem: It's six CDs. Those desiring something less pricey to start out with should spring for either A Live One, Slip, Stitch & Pass, or Live Phish 15; on the latter, Phish covers Talking Heads' Remain in Light in its entirety, to surprisingly powerful effect.

Shortly before the release of Undermind, Phish announced that it was breaking up for good. Luckily, the album's far from a white flag; in fact, it's one of the band's most cohesive collections, produced with warmth and flair by Tchad Blake, combining outlandish psychedelia ("A Song I Heard the Ocean Sing") with winning folk rock ("The Connection"). Whether or not it was intended to be Phish's final statement, Undermind is a fitting sendoff. (MAC RANDALL)

From the 2004 The New Rolling Stone Album Guide