[We would like to thank David Steinberg aka @zzyzx for recapping last night's show. -Ed.]

As someone who is a few weeks away from the 30th anniversary of living in Seattle (Q: What do you call someone who moved to Seattle 30 years ago? A: A transplant!), I have a name for days like we had for most of the week leading up to the Phish run. I call them "foolers."

Friday was a great example of such a thing. The sun was shining. The sky was blue with nary a cloud to see. It was about 70 degrees. Flowers and trees were blooming everywhere; on the right block you'd get ridiculously fragrant air. No matter which direction you turned, there were snowcapped mountains on the horizon. Even to the north, the rarely observed Mt. Baker - some 85 miles away from Seattle - was easily seen out on the horizon.

I had friends in town like many Phish fans. I shifted my work schedule up temporally and booked early to meet them. I took them to the Queen Anne Hill viewpoint where we got someone holding an SLR to take our photo with Rainier in the background. We offered to take hers in exchange but she was waiting for some mysterious group. A few minutes later, Lizzy shushed us and pointed to our left where a man suddenly got down on a knee and proposed. The no-longer girlfriend weepingly accepted, we applauded, our new friend was snapping away. It was that kind of day!

I took them to get some Thai food and show them the Troll and the Seattle Duck House and Archie McPhee and they were all, "This is such a beautiful city!" And that's why it's a fooler. People visit on a day like this, are blown away, move here, and then they have their first November. It's what happened to me on May 21, 1994 and it's why I still live here.

While any local show is a good thing, Climate Pledge Arena shows for me are enhanced due to three publicly funded projects. Extending light rail to within a mile of my house and replacing the cramped and largely disliked Key Arena with the new place. The former makes the trip so easy. A short trip to a park and ride (or our secret stash of legal parking spaces), a couple stops on the 1 Line, and then a practical use of the the 2-stop monorail, a legacy of the 1962 World's Fair.

While some arenas are built and quickly become boondoggles, CPA has turned out to be one that actually works for the claimed purpose. Between the Kraken, the Storm, and the many concerts that the new place is able to draw, Seattle Center is suddenly hopping again. The crowds make the Space Needle seem important again, a legit symbol of the city instead of a weird tower. The monorail is no longer a random historic relic, but a fairly vital infrastructure piece. Between the light rail and the new arena, I have used the monorail in the last 3 years more than I did in the 27 before.

We arrived early - did I mention it was an absolutely stunning day? - and joined the crowds just milling outside of the venue. The International Fountain was turned on. It's a metal hemisphere that has jets all over it that switch on and off and the game is to run up, touch the semi-globe, and get back while staying dry. People were doing that, someone made a makeshift slide out of cardboard and rode it down the slope towards the fountain, and, wow! This city is AMAZING! Why don't we move here!?!?

OK, there was one mishap going into the building. The woman running security in our line was very concerned about the bag size rules. She had a piece of cardboard that represented the size of an allowable bag and if yours was even a centimeter too large for it, she wouldn't let you in. There was screaming and fights and it marred the experience a bit. "I don't make the rules!" she kept saying, but she did have the ability to decide how much of a stickler she would be.

Speaking of things that were hanging above the show, the economy and political situation has been a tad... stressful... in the weeks leading up to the show. I had a mantra over the last few weeks. "Let's just have this tour. The world can end after, but just give me these shows!" That was a lot of pressure to put on a band. With all of this (insert vague gesture to encompass the world and current situation) going on, could a concert - or even 8 - by a rock band even help?

As "Sand" started, and I wasn't immediately transported into a state of satori, I was worried. Come on David. You gave it like 45 seconds. The fear was short-lived, as I wrote the first smiley face on my setlist at 5:29.

(Brief digression on my setlist scoring system in use since 1989 Grateful Dead shows. I used to just use exclamation points to mark a great jam, but after a "Not Fade Away" where the second jam was so much better than the first that I felt the "!" I gave the prior one was not truly earned, I start out with a smiley face first. Then I pile on the exclamations. To get that first mark, I have to notice that I'm forced into an almost involuntary ear to ear grin from how amazing the music is.)

The "Sand" and the "Kill Devil Falls" that followed (this one got an exclamation point!) both had Trey firing on all cylinders. After a long acoustic tour, perhaps he was just excited to play on an electric with a full band, but whatever it was, it was working! There was even a bit around 10 minutes in where Trey almost channeled the 7/10/99 "Chalk Dust Torture."

There was a weird moment after "KDF." Trey played a riff that sounded like he was trying to queue "Character Zero" but instead a roadie came on stage and put a new guitar out there. While there were some rumors - or attempts to manifest - a Sturgill Simpson sit in, it was just a guitar with no pedalboard so I didn't think it was that. However I don't know what it was as it just sat on stage for the rest of the set. Perhaps it was an understudy guitar, observing the scene before its big role. I wasn't quite close enough to see the details of the instruments and I don't know enough about the gear side of things to know what was going on, so it was just a mystery.

The "Theme" that followed (which also gained a coveted smiley), pointed to an interesting direction for a minute at the end. The jam radically switched, felt like it was going to explore, but just turned out to be a different setup for the ending. While that was a false alarm, "Back on the Train" followed and we'd get our first dose of weirdness for the evening.

About 9 minutes in, the jam quieted. Page played some weird trippy keyboard effects and the band followed. For a few minutes it sounded like it might go into "Ghosts of the Forest" - why has that never returned anyway? - but instead it did another build. The contrast of the build from the weirdness that preceded it gave it extra power. Trey kept messing with a riff, but every time it was slightly different in his phrasing or the pace and the rest of the band used that as a springboard for great playing around it. About 13:30 in, Page hits a keyboard effect which was a ridiculous counterplay and it inspired Trey to find more and better variants on his theme. Half a set in and we already have a great jam; relistening this morning, I had to pause in writing the review to dance around the living room. There's an omen for the tour!

(Aside that didn't really have a better place to be put but needs to be mentioned: Let me take a moment to give a shoutout to the ridiculously good acoustics of CPA. The Key was a muddy mess of a concert venue, but every single time I let my ears wander and check out what Mike or Jon or Page was doing, they were always crystal clear in the mix. Especially considering that our seats were very close to side stage, a location that can frequently be a bit of a musical dead spot - yes, I'm looking at you Madison Square Garden... and Greensboro Coliseum... and many venues I've attended over the years - the recreation of Climate Pledge is nothing short of impressive!)

"If I Could" was the first breather of the set, but in its role of a song played once or twice a year, it's not exactly one that people are sick of, especially with the way Trey, Mike, and Page were dancing around each other in the music break. Yes it got another smile, even if they didn't quite stick the landing. At this point I was pretty easy.

After a "Tube" that was more interesting than its 6 minute run time might lead one to expect and a "Mull" that had me receiving a text asking if it was the best version they've played to date (I answered, "Maybe!" if you're wondering), we got "Wolfman's Brother" to close the set. It felt like a weird spot for it. I was asked post show and checked this morning; only 10 times has it closed a first set, all in 3.0, and this was the first time since Coronavirus.

The sub-30 minute break caught a few people off guard. People were still filing into their seats well into the opening "Blaze On." For the second time this night it felt like a song was being played too early in the tour. While "Tube" should have been saved for Hollywood, that's later enough in the tour that it might reemerge if this isn't a no repeat. "Blaze On" though? That should be for the Portland 4/20 show!

Unlike the jams in the first set, this one never seemed to quite click. They then did a trick that they've really mastered. Sometimes when no one has the next idea, they kind of let the jam simmer for a few in hopes that something will come out of it. Instead there was a segue into "Golden Age." This served two purposes. First, unlike the other songs, "clap your hands if you feel like you're in the right place," definitely fit in a hometown show in a new crown jewel of a concert venue. Secondly, it gave a new path.

The jam came out firing. We ended up with another great segment that made me want to run through a wall before they returned to the "Golden Age" riff. If there's been a flaw in the current run of Phish, Trey might be a little too OCD about making sure he ends songs instead of seeing where they could finish. This time though the riff didn't conclude the song. Rather it went into a second, much weirder jam. Based around the "Split Open and Melt" trick where they have that punctuation to keep the abstract jam focused - I think this riff might be slightly different than the "SO&M" one so it might not be a tease, just an inspiration - it was a really fun few minutes. It wasn't the pure insanity that modern "Melts" have become, but somewhat closer to mid 90s versions where they never let the punch and intensity fade even as Trey was getting very weird noises out of his guitar. We can have both bliss and weirdness? Works for me!

Also works is that the landing spot wasn't a ballad but rather the new fan favorite of "What's Going Through Your Mind," or as I'm trying to get to catch on "WGTYM(Mmmmmmmmmmmmm)." First getting weird, then getting blissful, this jam was "(Mmmmmmmmm)" "(Mmmmmmm)" "(Mmmmmmmmmm)" good indeed. And, yes, the number of M's are supposed to change every time based on your mood and what's going through your mind mind mind mind mind...

So at this point we were over 50 minutes into the set. The expectation was maybe a few rockers to close. Maybe a "Hood" or a "Slave?" Instead we got the Page electronica "I Always Wanted It This Way." Like the "Blaze On" that started, it didn't quite feel like they had a path for this one, so instead we got a quick audible into "Ghost." Like the first set closer, this was a weird spot for the song; this was only the 5th second set closing "Ghost" and the first since the second night of Coventry of all shows.

For our encore we got another song that felt not quite the perfect thematic match for the night. Happy Good Friday. Here's "Bug," a song that doesn't question God's existence but goes further than that to question as to if we should care about the subject at all. Perhaps the second song was a better fit. What's a better way to end this show than a song that features the death of a marsupial? Will "Possum" rise again in a few days? We'll have to wait until Easter in Portland to find out.

But between the weather, having friends in town, some bizarre urban light rail interactions - going down someone in my car put on an Easter Bunny (covered with fur and big ears) bicycle helmet before grabbing their electric unicycle to ride on Capitol Hill, coming back the train was slightly delayed by someone holding the door open but it turned out to be a woman wearing an anime-esque Magical Girl costume that had so many layers as to what it was supposed to be that she spent the entire trip back trying to explain exactly what she was doing to some interested passengers. I found out this morning that Sakura-Con is also being held this weekend on the other side of the Westlake Station but that's kind of the point. Sometimes light rail delivers tweakers. Sometimes you get fun goofballs in outlandish costumes - I would say that, indeed, this was a good Friday. In fact, seeing how I heard no reports of anyone being nailed to a giant piece of wood, I'd venture to call it a great one! Let's keep it going through next weekend!

If you liked this blog post, one way you could "like" it is to make a donation to The Mockingbird Foundation, the sponsor of Phish.net. Support music education for children, and you just might change the world.