Phish 2025

Troy Bass, contributor

Tweezer Enlightenment: Goose loyalist. Phish curious. Jammed regardless. Phish or Goose? It’s the jam band scene’s latest great debate. Why do we feel the need to rank musicians against each other? Well, because it’s fun. But I’m not here to do that today. I’m just giving my perspective on my first Phish show, as a through-and-through Goose fan. First and foremost: I truly believe without Phish, there is no Goose. The bands have distinct differences, but the influence is undeniable. As far as the whole “passing of the torch” conversation? I don’t think there even is a torch. And if there was, the fuel keeping it lit is the collective scene, dozens of great bands pushing the jam world forward. Now, let’s get into it.

The Call That Changed My Weekend

So how did I score free Phish tickets? I was at work and noticed a scrap of paper at the front desk: “For Phish Tix – Call Dan.” It was addressed to my boss. I handed it to him and told him to enjoy the show. He paused and said, “Oh yeah, I can’t make that unfortunately… Would you want them?”

I tried not to sound too eager, but I accepted immediately, canceling my weekend plans. Two texts later, the tickets were transferred. Fantastic seats. I called my cousin and, like any sane person offered free Phish tickets, he was all in. We planned the journey. We were set to see night three of a weekend run at SNHU Arena in Manchester, NH. A Sunday show, and you know what they say: never miss a Sunday show.

Pre-Show Energy

When we arrived, the sun was beating down, and honestly, the vibe felt low. It was still early. Shakedown Street hadn’t popped off yet, and between the heat and three-day-run fatigue, I figured folks were pacing themselves.

We grabbed a couple Dogfish Head Grateful Dead pale ales at nearby Murphy’s Taproom and caught the last few innings of the daytime Red Sox game. A good primer before the madness.

An hour to showtime, the Phishheads descended. The herded-cattle energy at the gate flipped into anticipation. It felt different than a Goose show. It was less playful, a little darker, more mysterious. And I was into it. Make jam evil again. Our second-tier seats gave us a perfect, unobstructed view. Then the lights dimmed.

The Show Itself

I won’t pretend to break down every song and insult the die-hards. I’m a casual-to-mid-tier Phish fan. But here’s what stood out: The band played on an open concept stage. Comparable to playing “in the round,” with fans even behind them. The lighting rig was next-level: suspended on cables, physically moving throughout the show. Never seen anything like it.

Personal highlights from the first set included “Llama,” “Egg in a Hole,” and “Fluffhead.” You could tell this was a group with decades of chemistry. Refined, patient, full of finesse. Watching Trey on the fretboard was a masterclass, and as a drummer, seeing Jon Fishman live was a personal treat.

The second set? That’s when the train really left the station. “Tweezer” became the vehicle, winding in and out of a non-stop jam sequence: Axilla [Part II] > Tweezer > Mercury > Tweezer > Pillow Jets > Tweezer > Golgi Apparatus The encore? “Bug,” capped off with, yep, a “Tweezer Reprise.” I could only laugh. Is this what enlightenment feels like?

Final Thoughts

So… Phish or Goose?

These bands don’t see themselves as rivals. Trey literally sat in with Goose for an entire third set at Radio City Music Hall in 2022. That’s not competition, that’s endorsement.

Let’s stop with the rankings and just enjoy the ride. The jam scene is alive and well, and

everyone’s invited aboard. Respect to the veterans, love for the new wave, and a shoutout to Phish for banning tarps. If I had one gripe about the jam community, it was probably that.

I’ll be seeing them again.