As at least one other reviewer has commented, this show had a strange dark energy to it. This resonated with my own personal darkness that nearly led me to skip this pair of shows, until the person who shut off the lights last year talked me into getting on the road. So, with a late start I drove like I did when Phish first played at DCentrumU, cursed the traffic jams, threw my bags into a hotel room, paid $35 for parking, and walked into the room just as the band hit the stage.

Bunky Fitch was a harmless kick-start of an opener. Wolfman's snarled hard from the get-go, and it delivered a straightforward staccato funk-rock romp. Wilson proved that they can still have fun with their flubs, as Trey made up the Rog and Pete alibi on the fly, looking at nobody in particular as he claimed to spot good ol' Roger in the crowd. The Curtain felt so tenuous and fragile, with a few rough edges, and then With was the triumphant release that it's meant to be. Beautiful pitch-shifting by Trey on the receding jam, more seabirds than whale in its timbre. So glad I didn't skip this show!
Cities was dark and repetitive, like a bleak former bastion of new england industry. Rift kicked us back into the light, the rapid-fire With segment serving as a giddy yin to the darker yang. Free was straightforward and stomp-tastic. Then a surprise that hadn't been played since the last time I saw them in Worcester - Mike's got a voice of his own! Vultures was another nice curveball, performed sprightly, and bringing out the "Woo" in Woostah for the emphatic coda. Speaking of emphatic codas, 46 Days raged type I hose *and* pimps to bring this set to a close.

Waves??? Waves! A dark, brooding opener. The jam is a bit warbly and lurchy, but it finds its slippery footing for a coherent little rock diversion before crashing onto the lumpy shore of Carini. This one got into oozy, No Quarterish territory before suddenly collapsing as Page stood up and walked a few steps away from his keyboards. Then, a jarring start to a hideously disjointed Caspian, which mercifully recovered for a solid albeit brief jam before a surprisingly clean and flowy transition into BDTNL.
Roughness in the verses again, but the show took off and never looked back when Trey shredded his solo like a redheaded maniac. Ghost had the dirty bounce going, and the altered lyrics must have been an inside joke or something. Yep, they're still phucking with us after all these years! Jam had some familiar near-teases as it traversed 3 different mood before getting buried beneath the blissful Dirt. Heartfelt and haunting, as usual. Then, the set opened once again with DWD!! Crisp and sufficiently shreddy, the closing jamlet briefly reprised the story that the Ghost had told (same tease-ish guitar melody), and out of nowhere they're Sneakin' Sally into the setlist! Relatively brief version, but authoritative and they seriously stick the landing on the vocal jam. Cavern is bouncy and slappy, a tasty little bonus nugget to finish the set...unless an Antelope emerges from the cave with a noteworthy playful gallop. This one gets dark and creepy before the run up to the rye rye.
The encore delivered, and delivered, and delivered, and delivered. Page's solo in Rocky Top is especially worthy of attention, and did I hear Fishman say "proctologist"??? If so, it was apropos for a night on which they kept pulling song after song out of their collective arse.

Long show. Long review. Short version: Thank you, Phish!!!