Harrisburg.

Shit.

I'm still only in Harrisburg.

I miss the smell of the open road and late night heart-to-hearts holding hands at rest stops and cuddling fantastics, entangled deep within the jungles of the lost American night. I miss the movement of perpetual motion and the constant tracking of the moon. And the music....god, I miss the music.

There was a certain feeling one had in one's chest knowing that they were on Phish tour in the summer of the nine-nine. It was certainly a way to close out the millennium - who wants to enter the zero-zero of the two thousands knee deep in nostalgia and silly putty when they could be getting down for the ages with a Mike's -> Hydrogen -> Weekapaug? Twenty shows, thirteen states, two countries, countless cases of Mountain Dew, a couple cases of glass, a case of Will vs. The Missing Guinness, one lice epidemic and a pair of sneakers down. Such was Phish Tour '99.

As we drove the Winnebago across Ohio on our way home after Deer Creek, I tried to assess the damage. Let's see....I still had ten fingers, a Trey tape, and my hat. That was a start. I sprawled out on the sofa, looking out the window at the flat Ohio highway and thought back to the opening night in Kansas.

Opening the tour with "Bathtub Gin" was like Phish saying, "Okay, I know this is the first night, and you need to get your dancing legs back, and you haven't even had time to say hello to all your friends yet...but too bad - it's time to get down!"

The Sandstone Amphitheater looks like a stage set for a county fair, complete with pig roasts, heartbreaks and bingo. Yet somehow dancing on the brown earth in a field in Kansas, well, it was as if we were chasing after Toto when the storm of Phish came and suddenly we were on the Yellow Brick Road, looking for the Wizard of Oz. It was a search we would continue for the next five weeks.

In the end, we never really found it. Not quite anyway. There were times when we were within reach and please understand that it was a golden road we eased on down and the scarecrows and tin-men and lions we picked up along the way became our dear friends and family. And when all was said and done, maybe we did find our courage, our hearts, our way home. The only thing we didn't find was Oz itself, although Phish gave us a glimpse inside the palace walls at shows like the first night of Deer Creek or the first night of Oswego; but it was just that - glimpses. Remissions. Remembrances.

While touring with Phish in the Summer of the '99 was something cherishable and unforgettable and an unbelievable gift really, the shows themselves didn't always blow up the way we thought they would. Listen - I did twenty out of twenty shows - that should tell you right there how much I love Phish. And there is at least one jam from every show this summer that I would call nothing short of magical. It's just that Phish seemed to have lost a certain hunger; a certain edge. Their music was less urgent, less energetic, less questioning and more relaxed, comfortable...familiar even. Phish, the band that was never predictable, became a bit predictable. It was the Fall of 1996 all over again. That being said, there were still many shows in which, at that particular moment, Phish was the best band in the world. Those were the shows where each band member was listening to each other again, each song given full attention, each note pressing onward to find the next. Those were the shows like 7/16 PNC Bank, 7/12 Great Woods, and the showpiece of the tour, 7/25 Deer Creek. It's interesting how the tour's showpiece is noted for its resemblance to Summer '94 or Fall '95 Phish in both feel and execution.

If you're after one show to represent what it was Phish was going for this summer, a good selection would be 7/23 Columbus, Ohio. Or the night before in Pittsburgh.

And while Phish's tours are characterized by their own personality, such as "The Year of the Funk" in '97, the Fall '98 "Ambient Tour", the Summer '95 "Space Jams", the Summer of '99 lacked its own identity, its own personality, its own trademark. It searched for it alright, but it never quite defined it. The identity that it was fighting for was the Siket sound - it is the sound that Phish achieved, successfully, on the sick Siket Disk, available only through Phish's Dry Goods, beginning right before the tour. It is a direction two steps towards bands like My Bloody Valentine or Sonic Youth, with certain melodic measures nodding towards bands like Pavement, all within the context of the classic Phish sound. Songs like "My Left Toe" and particular jams in "Birds of a Feather" or "Down With Disease" or "Wolfman's Brother" worked in this capacity....sometimes.

The thing is, when Phish wasn't going for that new sound but instead were raging an old-school Antelope or David Bowie, it seemed like their hearts just weren't in it. What's more, it often seemed like Trey wasn't quite listening to the others as well as he has in the past. All of this is with exception, of course.

Perhaps the new stage set-up had something to do with it - with Trey so far away from Page, he noticeably stopped listening to him so much. This apparent isolation and sloppiness on Trey's behalf became frequent topics of lot conversation - it was something everybody noticed. What this move has taken away from Trey, it has given to Mike, who often stepped it up from night-to-night.

If I sound critical of this tour, it is not to say that this tour did not come with those drop-dead moments that Phish is known for. It did. It's just that it wasn't crowded with them - another feat Phish is known for. If there is one wish for the fall it is that it achieves what Summer '99 had set out to do. When that happens, I'm going underground, 'cause the events leading up to the new millennium are going to be off the handle. And Phish-2000 might end up arriving a few months early.

The verdict on the new cover tunes? Thumbs up. While most of them are likely one-time only break-outs, everybody was happy to see the return of Phish playing off-the-cuff covers. Whether it was Tom Marshall leading the band through a humorous "Born to Run" or Trey taking the bull by the horns in a fiery "Misty Mountain Hop," Phish's one-time covers always add a festive element to any show.

The verdict on the "Meatstick" dance? Thumbs down. A song that would've potentially blown up this summer instead turned into "Not that gimmick again." I'm sure on paper the trick looked amusing, but in practice it was flat and a frequent joke amongst the tour kids. Who wants to dance like Richard Simmons in the middle of a funk tune? In begging the audience to learn the Meatstick, Phish has turned to the exact same antics which they used to mock. What happened to the originality and creativity of big ball jams or secret language? The verdict on the special guests? Thumbs up. Special guests have rarely been able to shine on Phish's stage, no matter how established the talent. Perhaps this speaks volumes for the extreme tightness of inter-band chemistry. Regardless, special guests are always welcomed by fans as they spice things up and add a unique souvenir to take home from any show.

If it is true that this tour lacked a defined sound, one thing that defined the look was the frequency of special guests. "Possum" and "Funky Bitch" with Derek Trucks (of the Allman Brothers) was of particular mention as was the bluegrass blitz with Jerry Douglass, Tim O'Brien and Ronnie McCoury in Antioch, TN.

The verdict on Oswego? Thumbs up. Way up. Phish once again created a magical city and play-land. For the fourth year in a row, Phish transformed an air-force base into a safe haven where fans could indulge in summer delights and musical splendor. In addition to Phish, a second stage featured a roster of surprisingly quality acts including world-renouned bluegrass boys The Del McCoury Band, blues legend Son Seals and underground hero Bob Moses. The only complaint about the billing of next year's most talked about jam band, The Slip, is that they played on Friday night when all the tour kids were still in New Jersey watching that other band called Phish.

The verdict on the much hyped Fourth of July? Thumbs in the middle. Phish once again proved that hype is meaningless, and made a point of it by waiving off the expected fireworks extravangence in favor of a small downplayed display during an acapella Star Spangled Banner. The real fireworks display came after the second night of Oswego - a move that showed Phish still hasn't lost their humor. Both nights in Atlanta were, musically, a strong showing.

The verdict on the return to Great Woods? Thumbs up. Once people reacquainted themselves with the overzealous local police who roamed the lots, many remembered why they didn't miss seeing shows here. Musically, however, these two nights continued Phish's legacy of playing great shows at Great Woods.

The verdict on the new songs? Thumbs up. While "Meatstick" was soured because of an attached gimmick, the song itself still rages. As does "Bug." "Mountains In The Mist" should receive some kind of gold medal or something for its lyrical depth and emotional conveyance. "What's The Use?" and "My Left Toe" both add unique feels to any set they appear in and "Get Back On The Train" makes for a fine new standard. The only complaint that was heard frequently amongst the tour crew: Where's Windora Bug? Or Gotta Jiboo?

The verdict on the new set-up? Thumbs down. Moderately. Overall where Phish chooses to stand on-stage is more of a "Who cares?" issue among fans and should be reserved for the guys in the band only - where do they feel most comfortable? Overall though this move was seen by many as an attempt to switch things around a bit musically...for new inspiration and to keep things interesting. If that's the case, more power to it. It's just that the change that it seemed to bring on wasn't always a welcome one. Mike seemed to benefit the most from the switch - his domination in certain jams appear to be sparked by being next to Page. The move away from Page, however, could be the root of what many saw as an unfortunate recurring trend in Trey.