Playing with house money: My delve into the world of Phish

It's admittedly lamer to become a fan of a band later in their career in comparison to when they are just beginning. To discover a band at the same time that the band is discovering themselves, growing and evolving with them during their career is a feeling unmatched. I first saw them play a small club makes for a more intimate and engrossing story than I first saw them at a sold out stadium.
Sometimes, the inevitable is decided for you - a band starting or ending long before you're even alive. Other times, the stars just never align and the band's rise runs in parallel to you, never intersecting. This was closer to the case with my discovery of Phish.
Who exactly is Phish and why is a band capable of selling out Madison Square Garden for 13 nights in a row withheld from the mainstream conversation? The simple reality is that Phish has never had a hit song before, let alone a hit album. Instead, Phish developed themselves as a live band, creating a sense of exclusivity for each and every show. No setlists the same, no performance the same, no jam the same. One night they could perform a 3 minute version of their song, only to turn around a 25 minute jam of the same song the very next night. A tried and true method first developed by the Grateful Dead
A quick aside here, it's important to distinguish that although Phish was heavily influenced by the Dead, they sound absolutely nothing like them. The Dead bended and fused together sounds that came before them, mixing jazz with disco and folk. Similarly, Phish also bended and fused sounds that came before them, however the sonic library had significantly expanded since the Dead started. Now Phish could mix classic rock with funk and reggae.

Additionally, Phish had one big tool available to them: the internet. Phish was one of the first bands to utilize the internet as a promotional tool, often secretly announcing shows through chat rooms, promoting fan taped shows, and even organizing musical cues for fans to follow (example: after a certain jingle is played, all fans drop to the floor of the venue). Through all of this, Phish was able to create a sense of community and a unique form of hivemind that you had to work at to fully grasp.
Except the general public doesn't want to work to understand music. The reality was that Phish's sense of humour isolated them from the general public and drew a divisive line between those who "got it" and those who didn't. And while the cult slowly grew of Phish disciples, the mainstream paid no mind and continued to turn a blind eye to the fun little circus.
Naturally, after discovering Grateful Dead and becoming fervently interested in the jam-band scene, Phish quickly showed up on my radar. Up until this point in my life, the band Phish had always been somewhat of a joke to me. Having never listened to any of their music, I only had a few pop-culture references to ground my view point on: stoners like them and they make silly songs. As it turns out, both true. It took me several months to begin to expand this view point, even as I began listening to them. Truthfully, I felt almost embarrassed to be caught listening to Phish, it felt as if I was allowing myself to be indoctrinated into a hippie cult. But slowly I began to understand what they were achieving, appreciating the lore of the band, studying the fusions of sound, and devouring the musicianship of each member.
At this point, I would be classified as a 3.0 fan. The band is older, already reuniting on two separate occasions after some form of hiatus. Few fans within the Phish community are actively excited about new music from the band, which begins to push Phish dangerously close to the label of a novelty, selling a unique version of nostalgia. To many 1.0 or 2.0 fans, the idea of this is depressing. This band they fell in love with that was driven by the ignorant energy of youth has slowly begun to show their age, producing some of the most stereotypical dad-rock music in recent years. But to me, as someone who is incapable of growing alongside them, Phish at this point is simply playing with house money. They've accomplished more than most bands can ever dream of: immense popularity without the fame. They're able to experiment without consequence, able to push fear of success out of their peripherals and instead play for nothing more than fun.
Admittedly, I find myself listening to 00's or 90's versions of songs far more often than anything in the 10's, but make no mistake about it: given the chance to see a group of four 50+ year olds rip into a 20 minute jam, I'd go without hesitation and simply enjoy the fact that I'm able to see it happen before the inevitable is decided for me.
