I looked over the setlists for the last three nights, and I’m sorry to say, they just aren’t that interesting to me anymore. They look totally tired, many of the songs being a total snoozefest for me these days. Friday night included this opening combo: Stealing Time, Moma, Funky Bitch. I would’ve slit my wrists if I went to NY and got that threesome. The set was rescued, song wise, by Stash, Nellie Kane, and what I’m told is a fantastic Wolfman’s, the problem is, I just don’t even care enough to check it out. I hope I get the interest to check out the Tweezer that everyone says is “one of the best of 3.0,” but the fact is, I’m beginning to realize that I just don’t like 3.0 Phish that much.

Now, my friends could and rightfully should, I suppose, call “bullshit.” I’ve seen Phish in 8 states in 3.0, including several fantastic jams. I’ve called things like the 1/1/11 Ghost and the Dick’s ’11 Tweezer some of my favorite music they’ve done. And yet, through most of 2012 – you know, the year they rose to their former glory, in seemingly everyone’s eyes – I’ve just not cared very much.

I could go on a different route here and tell you why. I could explain that my love affair for a younger, prettier, more sexual woman named Umphrey’s came along and stole my heart. But that’s not really true. I didn’t trade Phish for UM, UM is simply doing what I always wish Phish did. They play with us. They have fun. They talk to us. They are very aware of their setlists and don’t get caught in the same song over-and-over rut. The songs they play the most – songs like Wappy Sprayberry and All in Time are so varied it’s hard to even tell what song I’m listening to while I’m hearing them. Compare that to a song like Piper that I can typically spot a mile away. Phish’s type I jamming is so similar that I can barely find it in me to care.

I’m certain that I’m being harsh here. I bet if I were in MSG for any of the last three shows I’d have found high points and be happy. However, I’m just not sure it’s worth the $1,000+ it will cost to see Phish in NY. I’m just not excited by what Phish does anymore. I didn’t webcast and I wasn’t all that interested in the setlist as it was being live tweeted. I actively rolled my eyes as people talked up certain jams, wondering if they were truly magnificent or just hopeful; no one wants to go to a stinker. But then, if you read Phish.net reviews, you’d be hard pressed to find a show people don’t fawn over. I mean, not every show is a winner. One man’s 10/10 is another man’s snoozefest, and frankly, I’m in the latter group.

Factor in this other bit: I think Trey is entirely uninteresting. In 2010, I actually said “Am I the only one who thinks it looks and sounds like #Trey is having more fun with Classic TAB than with #Phish?” Even back in 2004, I said Trey’s band was most my style. And then I said, “This guy takes chances.” Fast forward – Trey is 100% boring to me. My last Trey show was so uninspired that I decided I wouldn’t travel for Trey again. Meanwhile, Mike’s band is tearing it up. I left my last Mike show totally inspired and excited for more to come. I haven’t left a Phish show that way in years. Because even when they drop the best jams – there are several really nice ones over the last months and years – there’s really no “reinvention.” There’s no new ground being blazed. There’s nothing really revolutionary. It’s just, from time to time, they stumble on stuff that sounds nice. And, to be honest, when that happens, more often than not, they stop-short and segue into a ballad. Trey’s orchestra tour was a respectable effort to challenge himself.  So was his Hands on a Hardbody stage show.  Why, then, is Phish feeling stale to me? I want to love Trey, but the fire I used to think he exuded with Phish just feels like it’s missing. Is it missing? Or is it missing from me?

I’m not “over Phish.” Not at all. I just think Adam in 2012 and Phish in 2012 are not as perfect a match as they once were. I think Phish is primarily a good time, but not really the musical journey it was for me a decade ago. There are plenty of new musical journies for me, and I think Mike and his band is certain to be tangled into my path.

I’ll still see Phish in concert, primarily because I love the people. I love most of the songs I used to love, and I’ll still enjoy seeing them live. I love the community at Phish.net, it’s a labor of love for me, one that makes me proud and excited. I’m passionate about the mission of the Mockingbird Foundation. But I think it’s time to admit that unless Phish truly rediscovers themselves, the Phish journey is mostly coasting for me. Meanwhile, other music is totally awakening and exciting me (Disclaimer: it doesn’t hurt that I’m more tightly wound into the central line there, but it is what it is).

As an aside, this got me thinking, what could Phish do to reinvent themselves? To truly blaze new ground? And here are my thoughts on that:

1. Phish could add another musician: another guitarist. Or another drummer. Or a percussionist. This would break the existing chemistry and force them to try new things. Fans would revolt. But it would be healthy.
2. Phish could retire dozens – and I mean truly dozens – of songs and replace them with new songs. Even newer songs might benefit from being played on the road and getting airtime. Why introduce new songs just to play them once?
3. Phish could force themselves into Type II jamming. Go out, pick a song, everyone drop out save one guy, and slowly reassemble. This is what would hook me again.
4. Phish could practice. Sorry if I sound like a broken record, but the massacred bridge from Theme from the Bottom, the painful refrain of Sugar Shack… these are recurring undetones of Phish shows of the modern era. It honestly sounds like Phish doesn’t practice at all anymore. And if they do, well… that’s arguably worse.

I don’t know what 2013 Phish looks or sounds like, but by all accounts, they are on a high note right now. Even after two lackluster opening MSG shows, on the heels of Dick’s and what most agree was a scorching 2012 summar tour, people have tremendous faith in Phish today. I’m going in open minded, but we’ll see if I actually get around to listening to anything.

I’m certain this post will be received critically. I’d just like to add, in the most sincere way possible, this typical disclaimer: 2 cents. This is my opinion and my opinion only. Intelligent discussion is very welcome. 

Update 2013/01/01 9:58 AM: As fate would have it, I met a new neighbor last night who is a huge Phish fan. He invited me over to watch the webcast on his new projection TV, which was about 100″ across with deep, loud surround sound. I walked in for a fun, bright if jamless Roses, followed by a clean, Page-heavy Rift. A nicely played Sample, Mike’s was next until my wife summoned me. I snuck back for Horse > Silent, YEM to round out set 2. I was really surprised to hear tight, well-executed music and see Trey having so much fun. Really, honestly, smiling and enjoying. They sounded good. And it felt good. I’m not making any promises, but I will say this, I’m definitely going to be checking out the highlights that friends have recommended…

So, this has been an interesting year for me, Phish-wise.  I saw more shows in 2011 than I have since 1998, at just 10.   With the 1/1 Simple and the 12/31 Ghost that is appreciated just the right amount as teasers, I thought the band had proven that they were capable of the highest peaks again. In the moment, when you’re there, you don’t need context. Those jams stood on their own and proved that Phish was capable of monster moments that leave even the most jaded happy.

After they came out blazing at Bethel, I thought they could do no wrong.  But the next few shows were “meh” comparatively.  Now, I’m a fluffer.  I want every show to be spectacular.  I want to find the good in each show.  And usually, if I’m in attendance, I find 3-4 songs that really make me happy.  Holmdel 2 felt like a letdown, for the most part.  With few highlights, even the flop of the previous night had some juice with After Midnight and Drowned (I think it was Drowned).  Meanwhile, Phish went on to drop DTE and Riverbend, which were pure fire.  When I next joined them in Alpharetta, there were highlights, sure, but mostly forgettable in the long run.  The moment amazing moment in Alpharetta was the interesting Mound, interesting mostly because it was “half Mound”, and then “other half Mound.”  The other memorable moment was the almost-genius segue of Carini >| Sand.  Thankfully, Charlotte felt like a rebirth with the awesome BDTNL > Ghost > R&R, which felt like the best and most satisfying candy, and the fun of Icculus.  Raleigh had Peaches and the Been Caught Stealing bustout (even if it was mostly painful).   Portsmouth had the amazing Harpua, Brother opener, my top 2 wishlist songs, and featured an amazing Slave, a top notch Sand, and a few other gems.  Superball had a ton of highlights.

Then came leg 2, and for the most part, I was let down.  A few highlights, but the Tahoe Light that everyone raved about left me perplexed.  Sure, there were moments, like the blue-ball of the the Tahoe Jim.  But mostly, I was feeling like Trey was ripcording regularly.  Somewhere along the way, I realized that after Portsmouth, something happened: I stopped chasing songs and started chasing the right jams.  I’ve made this argument before but this time, I really meant it.  And while Phish often delivered these moments of joy, in between was a lot of the same stuff.

After Dick’s, where Phish played a Tweezer that probably is top 3 – if not THE – jam of the year for me, I was primed for Essex.  I thought it would be the best Phish experience ever.  Small venue, in Vermont.

The Essex experience was awesome: I hung with cool people, had a ton of laughs and a great time, and saw my favorite band.  But even though there were great moments at the show – Carini, Julius(!), Slave, Wolfman’s – the fact is, it was the first time I realized that being there made no appreciable difference, music-wise.  And that rotten spirit carried with me.

Had I been at 12/28 or 12/29, I would have been happy enough.  I would’ve gotten one new song each night, which would’ve made me happy.  But overall, on the webcast, I was just disappointed.  And someone on the list said it right: I no longer need to be at every show.  Phish just isn’t a band putting on “can’t miss it!” moments every night.

Meanwhile, I’ve had this love affair with another band that shall not be named.  They’re great, but the reason I’ve fallen for them is also because they’re making me feel what Phish once was: they practice until they’re so sharp you can’t even tell when composition ends and improv begins.  Their setlists are crazy – they finish a song in the middle of the second set from the beginning of the first set.  Their antics are amusing.  They bust out random covers frequently and have a huge 800+ song catalog.  They change the style of their songs.  They embrace technology. Sound familiar?

I’ve realized that it’s really mostly Trey that has soured me.  He’s let me down.  I listen to all four musicians, but Trey was the guy who led the band.  Trey’s screaming tone made me want to burn every cent I had following them through Europe in 1998, and guess what? It felt like a good idea, even afterwards!

Meanwhile, Mike’s band is so ridiculously hot right now, they can pretty much do no wrong by me.  Fishman is so talented it makes me vomit.  Page fills out music like Zerbo fills out a pair of sweat pants after a sushi binge – every millimeter is occupied.  But Trey just can’t, or maybe won’t, get on point.

So I went to Atlanta to see Trey on 11/11.  I flew up and stayed at a hotel.  The trip cost me maybe $500.  So to see Trey do a mostly average show with literally ZERO moments that stand out a month and a half later, especially juxtaposed with my 1999 experience that was also small club, the one that put me on blood pressure meds from the world-rocking of First Tube, the song that literally become my online identity via firsttube.com, was just a spit in the face.  I left the Trey show thinking “Holy shit, Jen Hartswick and Chainsaw can play some damned horn!”

MSG wraps up a year with ONE new original (Can that be right? Just Steam?) Trey used to lock himself in a barn and write 50 genius songs to Tom’s words.  Now, we get a band that gets up and can’t play their new material (Sugar Shack? Notsomuch), ignores their recent material (Did you know Phish released an album called Undermind? And another called Round Room! It happened, check Wikipedia!), and rushes through most of their core stuff (CDT, Piper, Cavern, Golgi, YEM…all played about 3 times too fast).   There are about 6 songs I like to think are great platforms in 2011 (Gin, Tweezer, Wolfman’s, Stash, Ghost, Rock and Roll), and very few that are truly revolutionary.  And then they release the gorgeous Hampton 97 and all I can think it “WTF happened?! Look what they used to do!”

The problem for me is that while Phish can still deliver the highest peaks, they do so mostly infrequently.  So I’ve opted, lately, to go for more admittedly lower peaks, as other band is delivering nightly.  Give me as much shit as you want, but I did used to believe that every Phish show was unmissable.  I wished I could’ve gone nightly.  Now? Couch Tour is pretty okay most of the time.  Raras is right: 2011 had a LOT of highlights.  But the highlight reel from the 40-odd shows they played this year doesn’t inspire me like the highlight reel of ages past. I’m content to hear most of it the next day. I’ll still spend a lot of money with LP. But I don’t know that I’ll travel to VT one afternoon and rush home and be at work the next day after lunch. Maybe I’m just getting old – possible, sure – but maybe I’m just getting clearer.  I can’t even find it in me to fluff these shows, they are measurably worse when compared to Phish shows of another era.

MSG night 1′s Cities moved me.  It made me SO happy.  And then it just… evaporated.  And sure enough, I never felt that high again through night 2.  I didn’t even stream night 3, I opted for a different stream that made me smile several times.

Now, I’m sorry to carry on like this, really, but my love level for Phish is in the shitter right now.  They’re still, of course, my favorite band, and I still think every Phish is still about an 8/5-9 on the “general concert quality scale”, but I really think Trey is checked out.  I accept that he has things that are more important. I get that being sober and having a family are his priority, and agree with it.  I also get that he seems to be enjoying his performances, as are MANY MANY other people.  But I live in FL.  Every show I see is a massive financial commitment.  And, for me, the need to rush out and spend a grand to see Phish once or twice has dwindled to almost 0.  I’ll see them next year, I know this for sure, but I already KNOW I’m going to Chicago at least once.   I’m not lying when I say I’d be more excited to see Barika, which is a side project OF a side project right now.

Someone say something to change my mind.  Tell me I’m being unreasonable.  Someone tell me that I’m crazy.  Because I want to be wrong.

The story “The Hazards of Love” is a complete saga with well rounded characters with clear motivation. It exists in two acts. There are several layers of potential analysis, from character depth to allusion. “The Hazards of Love” itself is the title of four distinct un-thematically related songs on the disc. It bothered me only for a moment that Colin and company would reuse the song title so often for no clear purpose, but alas, this weekend, I finally found the connection.

The four songs entitled “The Hazards of Love” all describe a different “hazard” of love!

The first song, “The Hazards of Love 1 (The Prettiest Whistles Won’t Wrestle the Thistles Undone)” represents lust. It’s Lust that drive William and Margaret together, that keeps her riding out past Offa’s Wall to meet him, and ultimately leads to her bearing his fruit. Perhaps a little uptight to view lust as a “hazard”? In the age of The Situation and Snooki, sure. In the age of William and Margaret? Sin!

“The Hazards of Love 2 (Wager All)” represents jealousy. Bear with me: I know the Queen doesn’t discover William and Margaret’s affair in this song, but it’s during this episode that she will catch them. The hazard, in this case, is that others will be unable to handle the love. Ultimately, the Queen wants to keep William for herself, and this is the moment she will witness to cement that emotion.

“The Hazards of Love 3 (Revenge!)” represents… wait for it… vengeance, of course. Look at relationships: so quickly they can turn from love to hate. Use whatever cliché you want about the thin line between love and hate, but ultimately, many broken relationship land in hate. Not just hate, but the need to hurt and take revenge. What do The Rake’s children actually do here? Do they terrorize their father? Do they naïvely believe they are returning for his love? Do they kill him? Either way, they get their revenge by depriving him of Margaret.

Lastly, we have the heart-wrenching “The Hazards of Love 4 (The Drowned)”. It’s easy to categorize this one: loss. It’s maybe as simple as just the loss of a single moment, hour, or day with someone when you are in love, but in this case, it’s illustrated in the extreme: William has promised his earthly bones to Annan Water, and Margaret tragically sacrifices herself – and possibly her baby – to be with William for eternity. Of course, the eagle-eyed December-head will know that the baby is probably doomed destined to be rescued by the Queen from the reedy glen, but Margaret, any way you slice it, meets her end. Love’s power is too great, and she is unable to live without her “true love” William.

You could probably write 20 short analyses of “The Hazards of Love” without duplicating content. I like to think that Colin Meloy and crew put some serious thought into this story and loaded it with Easter Eggs that are neither confirmed nor denied so as to leave the story up for interpretation. During “The Wanting Comes in Waves (Reprise)”, I nearly bust out of my seat picturing William swashbuckling through the jungle on the dark side of Annan Water to save our heroine from The Rake. I LOVE the story and the music. So, while I don’t necessarily think that it was the intent to illustrate four different literal “hazards of love,” I think it’s both fascinating and incredible that it’s possible to construct and support the theory at all.

Top 10 Tech Failures of 2010

1. Something from Apple that everyone loves
2. Something else from Apple that everyone loves
3. Your favorite cellular telephone
4. Something Facebook did
5. Something Google launched
6. A crappy tablet nobody has ever heard of
7. Microsoft’s latest initiative
8. Desktop Linux
9. Michael Arrington
10. Ping

via Marco.org – Top 10 Tech Failures of 2010.

The Phish.net API, for example, is a simple HTTP request to an endpoint that returns JSON.  If you provide a callback function name as an argument, and then pre-define that function, it will return the contents wrapped in a function call.  In short, if you define a function called “example()” that accepts JSON an array/object as an argument, then by requesting the API with a callback of “example”, the response will be returned like so:

example(json response);

The benefit, of course, is that it allows a user to embed your code easily. If you host your own callback functions, you can very easily walk a user through a data embed. For example, on Phish.net, we offer the band’s latest setlist.  So we host a callback called pnet3setlist().  Then we offer the API response.  Embedding the setlist is literally as easy as this:

<script src="http://api.phish.net/callbacks/pnet3-setlist.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
<script src="https://api.phish.net/api.json?method=pnet.shows.setlist.recent&amp;amp;callback=pnet3setlist" type="text/javascript"></script>

I’m going to dig more into this later, but the gist of this is that the API can be constructed in a way that allows novice users to interact with it in their WordPress- or Blogger-blogs with little to no modification, it allows semi-skilled users to modify it slightly and tweak it for display purposes, and it allows advanced users to control virtually all aspects. Since virtually every major web language can encode and decode JSON (Javascript, PHP, Ruby, ASP, etc), it’s a near-universal way to exchange data. It doesn’t carry the overhead or complexity of XML, nor does it have the limited scope of something like serialized PHP.

Javascript-based APIs may not be the ultimate solution to a fully interconnected web, but they’re certainly going to be one of the best and simplest methods of data exchange for the foreseeable future.

As such, firsttube.com 10.3: based on the default WordPress 3 theme “Twenty Ten.”  There are minor customizations to the HTML and the CSS, but overall, it’s almost entirely stock WP.  It’s much faster, much leaner, and much easier to maintain.  Enjoy.

What can I cross off this list since then? Two songs: “Dinner and a Movie” and “Walk Away.”

So I’ll start off with the remaining songs:

• Destiny Unbound
• Camel Walk
• Brother
• Scents and Subtle Sounds
• A Song I Heard the Ocean Sing
• Glide
• Harpua
• Spock’s Brain
• Have Mercy
• The Lizards
• Crowd Control

Then I’ll add songs I want to see as of now:

• Alumni Blues > LTJP > Alumni Blues
• Gone

I don’t think I’ll get Alumni or ASIHTOS because they were played last night, and Camel Walk, Lizards, and Brother were ALL played on Sunday.  But I do have my fingers crossed for something fun.

These are the lyrics of Phish. These are the fun, linguistic acrobatics that entertain us. But, from time to time, things get serious we have to acknowledge that we are human, and we have lives, and we have families. Those, too, shape us and our experiences. I think it’s common for fans to forget that they’re favorite entertainers have lives off the stage, and from time to time, those fans can be both rabid and unforgiving.

When I began to read online comments deriding Trey’s new ballad, Summer of ’89, I was a bothered. When I heard the song debut in Hartford, I thought of it as a light little set-interlude, punctuated by the “and we danced all night” refrain. I wasn’t especially excited about it, but I certainly wasn’t offended by it. On repeat listening, though, I’m feeling differently.

I hope we’re mature enough as a community to recognize Summer of ’89 for what it is: a nice, gentle love song from Trey to his wife. Phish is on the road a lot – less these days, with Shakespeare camp and school vacation commitments – but it seems only fair that once in a while, they can use the stage to remind their family how much they mean to them, especially give the fact that most songwriters write lyrics that touch on their personal lives, while our rock stars tend to sing about imaginary friends, getting raped in the forest on an owl hunt, syrup thieves, aggressive reflections, and, oh yeah… good ol, classic masturbation.

The other day, I was driving along and Summer of ’89 came on, and I listened to the lyrics seriously for the first time. What is it other than an intimate glance into Trey’s love life? Weaving a grass ring, a particular, frequently-worn dress, a shared phase of Brazillian music. And then? “On the road when our first was born in the summer of ’95.” I actually felt a tear well up in my crusty old ducts, one that betrayingly fought its way up, but ultimately, I was just able to hold back. But it connected with me, because the idea of being away from my kids for more than a few days makes me sad, let alone a tour, or missing something as monumental as their birth.

I consider this light little tune, and I realize that behind the simple rhymes are not just memories that make one smile, but a little bit of regret. Regret about how it was simpler then. Regret about missing time with children. Regret in the moment: we used to dance all night, but now… well, now we don’t.

Singing about kids often chokes me up, and this is coming from someone who almost never cries. I’m not ashamed to admit that there was a day a few years ago when, upon hearing the “smiles awake you when you rise” verse of The Beatles’ Golden Slumbers, I suddenly and uncontrollably wept like a baby thinking of my daughter. As a parent, I don’t see any problem with reflecting on the life you’ve built with your family and being wise enough to see your successes and man enough to admit your regrets and mistakes. To me, this was Trey reflecting on his life with his family. A little bit of happy memory, a little bit of bittersweet. But honest. Like Joy, it’s hard not to see something raw underneath the veneer of playfulness that usually coats Phish and Phish-derivative offerings.

Say what you will about Summer of ‘89 – it’s weak compositionally, it’s mushy and out of place at a Phish concert, its chordiness makes it musically unchallenging, it’s not manly enough, it’s unnecessarily sappy, it’s a too-intimate glance into private emotions… to me, those are all excuses. You don’t have to love the song, but to suggest that it’s bad because it’s different just seems disingenuous and uncharacteristic of Phish phans.

But then… what do I know? I likeTime Turns Elastic.

I use a few tools to aid in recording my progress:

Weightbot for iPhone is one of those tools. It’s hard to go through this process without tracking your weight. I do so aggressively. I weigh myself 3-8 times a day, which is generally advised against. I do this to understand how weight fluctuates. Even eating a crappy meal won’t affect my weight, but a bad weekend, for example will. I bought an accurate scale and I track the weight daily with a single weight-in, taking immediately after I pee first thing in the morning.

Weightbot's Graph

Weightbot tracks my weight in graph form, and it gives me detailed statistics.

Weightbot's Goals

iMapMyFitness is an incredible application. I start it and then launch my iPod before going on walks. Then, when I get home, it plots my walk and gives me stats on the walk. I can measure the quality of any workout very quickly and fairly accurately, but at least consistently.

iMapMyFitness

Lastly, I recently invested in a Withings scale. It’s a super accurate scale that is wifi-enabled, which means it stores my weight online. Weightbot is fully integrated, so I will be able to even more accurately measure and graph my progress.

Good luck.

RewriteEngine Off
<ifmodule mod_rewrite.c>
RewriteEngine On
RewriteBase /
RewriteCond %{REQUEST_FILENAME} !-f
RewriteCond %{REQUEST_FILENAME} !-d
RewriteCond %{REQUEST_URI} !^index.php$
RewriteRule . index.php [NC,L]
</ifmodule>

This essentially tells your server to redirect anything that isn’t a file or directory to index.php.

Then index.php looks like this:

$url = str_replace("/","",$_SERVER['REQUEST_URI']);
if(isset($url) && trim($url)!='') {
$id = base_convert($url,36,10);
//this is where you either query your database for a slug or build the URL
$uri = 'http://your-site-goes-here.com/path/to/article';
}
 
if($uri) {
header('HTTP/1.1 301 Moved Permanently');
header('Link: < '.$uri.">; rel=shortlink");
header('Location: '.$uri);
exit;
} else {
header("Location: http://your-site-goes-here.com/"); exit;
}

How do you get your short links? That’s easy. Just run this function:

$shorturl = base_convert($id,10,36);

However, this isn’t the most compact way to condense. Obviously, this is base36, the highest PHP can go. But what about uppercase letters? And other characters?

So I set out, for some reason, to build a better condenser.

This is the result of several hours of work, mostly wasted, on some intellectual pursuit that was more a case of simply not letting it defeat me. A few notes: I’m quite confident that given enough time, and if I cared, I could make the code cleaner and more efficient in some places. I’m also aware that on 32 bit machines, it maxes out at the integer limit. I does support signed integers though, from min to max.

$ft_str = '0123456789abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvqwxyzABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVQWXYZ';
# uncomment the next line if you prefer to use potentially non-URL-safe base96
# $ft_str .= '0123456789abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvqwxyzABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVQWXYZ_@$!#%^&*()=+\|}{][,;:~'; }

$powers = array();
for($p=0;$p<=10;$p++) {
$powers[$p]=pow(strlen($ft_str),$p);
}
 
function ft_unconvert($str) {
if(substr($str,0,1)=='-') { $pfx='-'; } else { $pfx=''; }
global $ft_str,$powers;
$base = strlen($ft_str); $q=0;
$s = str_split(strrev($str)); $len = sizeof($s);
foreach($s as $k=>$v) {
$sp = strpos($ft_str,$v);
$decimal += pow($base,$k)*$sp;
}
return $pfx.$decimal;
}
 
function ft_converter($int) {
if($int > 0) { $pfx='-'; $int=abs($int); } else { $pfx=''; }
global $ft_str,$powers;
$base = strlen($ft_str); $q=0;
$p = str_split($str);
krsort($powers);
foreach($powers as $k=>$v) {
if($int>=$v) {
$timesinto = floor($int/$v);
$digit .= $ft_str{$timesinto};
$int = $int % $v;
} elseif($int>0 && $k==0) {
$digit .= $ft_str{$int};
$int = $int % $v;
}
}
return $pfx.$digit;
}
 
function ft_convert_demo($num) {
global $ft_str;
$ftc = ft_converter($num);
return "Converting ".$num." into base ".strlen($ft_str).": ".$ftc."<br />Unconverting ".$ftc." to base 10: ".ft_unconvert($ftc);
}
 
echo ft_convert_demo('50687');

I admit it: I’m a setlist snob.

I started formulating this realization on the field in Indio, when ZZYZX turned to me and said, without the condescension implied, “I remember when I was chasing bust-outs.” And my response was succinctly “If we’re going to hear a 10 minute jam, I suppose I’d rather have the jam be off of a song I haven’t heard before rather than one I’ve seen a dozen times.”

But as true as that is, it’s not the real story. The real story is that I am chasing bust-outs. Not just bust-outs, but “interesting-ness”. And “interesting-ness” changes with the seasons. I’m actually chasing anything at a show that makes me think “Interesting!”

I’ve posted about setlist construction before – to me, as a bit of a Phish geek – it’s fascinating. Those seconds when the band takes the stage, before the first notes of any song, are magical and hopeful – anything can happen. Will it be AC/DC Bag? Will it be Punch? Will it be a song I like? A rarity? A random cover? Will it be something that will make the show immediately legendary, like Harpua? Or an entire cover album?! It’s maddening!

And so it goes, between every song of every show… I wait with bated breath for what might be.

I thought Black-Eyed Katy was awesome in 1997 — one of the highlights of 11/22/97, I’d say. When Moma showed up in summer 1998, it was a funkified sensation. But now Moma makes me cringe – standard fare on a standard night, been there, done that. It takes a lot to make Moma catch my ear these days. Guyute was a patient fan’s reward not too long ago. But these days, I hear groans when Phish launches into a fairly standard execution of this complex composition, which is no small musical feat. Some used to call Roggae a “set-killer,” but here we are in 2010, and 2009 made it into a cherished treasure.

That’s the thing with setlist mechanics: they change every year, if not every tour. As certain songs get played over and over (Kill Devil Falls, anyone?), they lose interesting-ness and uniqueness. When songs disappear and re-appear, they gain it. I’m not sure I think Spock’s Brain is even a very good song, but it’s certainly a rare treat, and that makes me wish I’d get a chance to see it played.

This is how it unfolds, without fail, as I review each show’s setlist. A show that opens with Vultures? Interesting! A show that features a bust-out? Interesting! A new and random cover that could be a one-timer? Interesting! A novelty show, such as the M show, GameHoist, or even the recent Saw It Again adventure? Interesting! The appearance of a song like Dogs Stole Things in a 2010 setlist is interesting, but in 1997, not as much.

A song like Stash is one where I’ve simply fallen out of love, and yet, my most recent shows, Stash has lead to an incredible jam. Ditto Down with Disease, Bathtub Gin, and Wolfman’s Brother. Seeing these doesn’t inspire an Interesting!, but it might be. Hearing a song like Harry Hood or Fluffhead live is almost always satisfying to me. But when I see it in a setlist from a show I’m not attending (or couch touring), it doesn’t make me think “Interesting!” Ditto for Bowie, YEM, and Reba.

On the other side of that coin, songs like Brother, Camel Walk, and Destiny Unbound are rare and interesting enough that, even when executed in standard fashion, they are eye-catching.

Funny thing, if I made a mix of my favorite Phish live song performances for a fellow Phish fan, it likely wouldn’t include many of the “interesting!” setlist choices, but rather, the best jams. And what songs are they? Ghost, YEM, Piper, Split Open and Melt. Not quite “Interesting!“, is it?

As you can see, judging a show from its setlist is almost always a bad idea. It’s much smarter to use the advice of those in the know, or employ something like the Phish.net show rating results to find shows to hunt down. But that doesn’t mean that some of us don’t go against better judgement, and look for those shows with setlists that make us think “Interesting!“

Today starts Phish summer tour 2010, and I can’t help but get sucked into the whole “Phish 3.0″ debate: are they still any good? Can they still jam? Will there be any notable performances? Will 2010 be able to hold a candle to Phish 1.0 shows?

My friend and colleague ZZYZX recently pointed out that Phish has seemingly been misremebered for their long, exploratory jams, when in reality, they didn’t “jam” much until the late 90s. He also points out that perhaps there’s less work required to hit the jam stride, the sweet spot of the jam, so to speak.

I’ve been sucked in a few times to debates with people who maintain that Phish isn’t the same band they used to be. Of course this is true, they’ve got decades more experience, they aren’t trying to find themselves like they were in the 80s, and they’re at a different point in life. But what’s also true is what got us here may not get us there, to borrow a business motivation phrase.

When I hear the complaint that Phish doesn’t write like they used to, citing songs like Reba and Fluffhead, I’m bothered.  Phish does attempt songs like those still: see Time Turns Elastic. Walls of the Cave. Waves. Pebbles and Marbles. The challenge is that these are new, and new is never as good as old when it comes to music.

Let’s look at Time Turns Elastic. I’ve advocated for Time Turns Elastic before, but let me just highlight some of that here. Those noobs who make smarmy jokes suggesting TTE is only for pee breaks annoy me. Time Turns Elastic is a musician’s wet dream: I dare you to try to count it out. It’s got definitive sections, much like Fluffhead. It’s got a happy ending jam a segment, like The Arrival. It’s got some fun, warm sections, like Reba. And some tough-to-figure-out, intricate composed sections a la Divided Sky. But for whatever reason, there is a large group that simply doesn’t like this masterpiece. So much so that it was voted the worst Phish song in a recent poll on Phish.net. Meanwhile, the return of Fluffhead had phans creaming in their drawers. That doesn’t make sense to me.

I’m forced to maintain that older equates to better for too many. We’ve heard Fluffhead a thousand times, it’s part of Phishtory, and it reminds us of a simpler time. It evokes emotion in a way newer songs just don’t… yet. I think in time, should TTE become a rarity, it will get its due. In the meantime, Fluffhead was first.

There’s a certain pride, with a band, in being there first. I only heard of Phish for the first time – that I can remember – in 1992. By then, several of the Phish.net staff had already seen more concerts than I have since. I wonder sometimes if I would have even gotten into Phish if it was 1988 when I first saw them. Or 2004. The state of the band when you first took interest in them undoubtedly shapes your judgement of them in all subsequent phases of their career. But I think we’re unique here, because we have so much of the history captured on tape for posterity… and repeated analysis. I think that many of us are brainwashed because we don’t revisit the totally average shows nearly as often as the epic shows of days past, so we start to believe that the quality used to be higher. We compare every show we attend now to the highlights of days past. Dip that ladel in the tub, and your creation will yield disappointment – the purple paste of “Phish 3.0″ being a letdown. It’s not. It’s exactly what anyone paying close attention should have expected. It’s the natural evolution of Phish.

Phish is no longer a bunch of kids trying to define themselves. They’re a bunch of 40-somethings who have experimented and found their comfort zone. They’re evolving, but at the same time, narrowing in on what makes them happiest and will sustain them longest. They like a variety of music and styles and like variation in their setlists. They like adopting wacky covers, sometimes only once (e.g. Rhincerous, Layla, Golden Age, Terrapin Station). They like playing their classics. They like shelving songs and surprising audiences with their unexpected return. They like treating remote audiences to something special. They’re not a jam band or prog rockers or hippies or old men or young men – they’re amorphous. They’re not just performing, they are creating an overall experience.

In 2009, Phish honed their skills and ambitiously aimed for flawless execution. People complained about lack of variety (AC/DC Bag to open seven shows in 2009?), but Phish played 248 different songs last year, a full third of their entire twenty-five plus year repetoire. What will 2010 have in store for us and will it appease the masses?

Stay tuned to Phish.net to find out.