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Review by fluffhead108
What amazes me most is how many of the smaller moments stand out, even against the epic stature of the highlights -- micro-segments of what was essentially 4 hours of almost continuous improvisation: the way Number Line emerges patiently from a brilliant 46 Days jam; how Tweezer latches on to an infectious lick and then rides it all the way out; Caspian's effortless push beyond its often stifling boundaries; or how 555 bleeds out of Light as if the entire damn song was written specifically for that moment and that segue; the way Trey hammers out the opening chords of Cities like he has never been happier in his life to be playing it; the total unity of everyone in attendance during the final throw-down of the Reprise. The freakin' glowsticks.
There are probably arguments for why other shows or other sets from 2015 are superior to this show and these sets. But ever since Magnaball passed, I've been thinking a lot about when I was in my dorm room in college in 2009 and I got *that* email announcing the Phish reunion. The conception in my head, then, of what it truly meant for Phish to be a band again, for this to be a world in which Phish was making music and I was alive to experience it, looked exactly like this show. It was a vague image of exactly this experience that created all that giddy, joyful excitement. To be there for it and experience it in real time, then come home and sink into the SBDs until I've sucked them dry, feels very much like the cathartic realization of early 2009's hazy anticipation.
Seven years is a long time. It is incredible to me that so much time has passed, and even more incredible to think that things are essentially as right and good in the Phish world today as they've ever been before. Get this show.