Trey bien

With his latest release, Bar 17, gui-tarist Trey Anastasio begs a metaphysical question: Just how close, exactly, can one come to Phish without actually becoming Phish?
    A few years ago, that Vermont-based quartet reigned as one of the highest-grossing live acts in the world—but then, in 2004, Anastasio turned the band belly-up. Loyal fans had mixed reactions to Anastasio’s subsequent solo albums, which added horn sections, full orchestras, straight-up rock and all-star jam sessions to his musical mix. Reactions fervently posted in Phish chatrooms ranged from “Trey sucks!” to “It’s good, but it’s not Phish.”
    Lately, though, Anastasio seems wistful for the old days. This summer he joined Phish bassist Mike Gordon for a string of shows, which also included several appearances by Phish keyboardist Page McConnell. Meanwhile, Anastasio’s been dropping hints in interviews that Phish could play again in the not-too-distant future. Bar 17—along with the supporting tour that will bring Anastasio to the Charlottesville Pavilion on October 13—will no doubt add fuel to reunion rumors.
    Both Gordon and Phish drummer Jon Fishman show up on the album (along with dozens of other jam gods, like John Medeski), and many of the songs channel the old Phish current. The opening track, “Host Across The Potomac,” exemplifies Anastasio’s talent for hooks that burst triumphantly from the song, like a blooming flower, bolstered by Gordon’s bubbling bass lines. The title track runs thick with classic Phish atmospherics—layers of sound, weird drones, skittering drum fills, Anastasio’s guitar licks flashing through the turgid rhythms like lightning across a night sky. “Goodbye Head” is the kind of epic, carefully orchestrated prog rock that Phish mastered in their early career, and then more or less abandoned in favor of trance-inducing space funk jams later in their career.
    Bar 17 is more than just a flashback, though. The album ends with quiet tunes featuring strings and Anastasio on acoustic guitar. “A Case of Ice and Snow” is a charming interplay between organ and guitar, while the unadorned fingerpicking in “Empty House” supports some of Anastasio’s better lyrics. He’s never been much of a wordsmith (Phish’s best lyrics came from the pen of his buddy Tom Marshall), and Anastasio is at his best when he is simple and direct—when he overreaches, his poetic efforts come off as hippy claptrap.
    But who cares? What kind of jam fan listens to the lyrics, anyway? Anastasio earned his reputation (and his money) onstage. The album versions of Phish songs were simply blueprints for the band’s adventurous live treatments and improvisations, and the songs on Bar 17 are similarly rife with good ideas to be played with and grooved upon. The current lineup for the Trey Anastasio band—bassist Tony Hall, Ray Paczkowski on keys, vocalists Christina Durfee and Jennifer Hartswick, and drummer Jeff Sipe—are all jam veterans, no doubt capable of taking the songs on Bar 17 to higher levels and deeper funks.
    Still, it’s not Phish. But why should it be? Phish set an impossibly high standard for improvised rock because of the hard work, musical chemistry and friendship of four individuals in a band that toured for more than two decades without a single lineup change. Even the most bitter Phan will admit that Phish fell off after their New Year’s Eve performance in 2000. (After playing the biggest, longest millennium concert in the world—an eight-hour set for 80,000 people—what the hell do you do for an encore?) Anastasio had two choices: Allow Phish to lumber along as a nostalgia act, or quit and do something new. Now, after a few years on his own, Anastasio, just like his fans, apparently craves those crazy musical moments that only Phish could conjure.
    So Bar 17 isn’t Billy Breathes, and the latest Anastasio touring band isn’t Phish—but it is close, and it’s pretty good in its own right. For anyone wondering what that hoopla was all about, or for grown-up ’heads jonesing for one more trip, the Charlottesville Pavilion is about as close as you’ll get. At least for now.