IS TEEBOB AN EGG ROBOT?

By Brent Hallenbeck
Free Press Staff Writer

COVENTRY -- Sunday came down to this: The final sets of the band called
Phish.

The Burlington-based band ended not with a wild jam or a silly ditty,
the
sorts of songs that built Phish's reputation.

The band ended with a dreamy tune called "The Curtain," chosen because
it
was a song band leader Trey Anastasio wrote when he and his three
bandmates really started becoming a band in 1987.

The last notes drifted off, the blue stage lights flickered like stars,
and the band bowed before walking off the stage wordlessly.

It was 12:25 this morning and Phish was no more.

On this night, about 65,000 fans -- who had journeyed for days from
across
the country and from foreign countries as well -- joyously danced and
sang
and cheered to their band in a farm field in Coventry, forgetting for a
moment the rain, the mud, the traffic that made getting there such an
odyssey.

The day before, thousands had ignored police and promoters' requests to
head home, abandoning their vehicles on Interstate 91 and U.S. 5 and
walking to Newport State Airport on foot -- or in the back of a local's
pick-up.

Sunday night, they forgot for a moment the journey that awaits them
today
as they try to extract their vehicles from the muck and get home.

They didn't forget that this concert was all about saying goodbye after
21
years of music that began in a dorm room at the University of Vermont.
Coventry was to be the band's last gig before the band breaks up and
goes
their separate musical ways.

Phish kicked off the first of three sets Sunday with "Mike's Song,"
perhaps as an honor to Mike Gordon, the only one of the four members
who
strongly opposed the breakup announced in May.

After a sprightly version of "Weekapaug Groove," guitarist and singer
Anastasio shared a personal moment with fans about a conversation he'd
had
with Page McConnell, the keyboardist.

"In 21 years, I just told Page, I've never, ever been nervous going on
stage before a Phish concert, ever, ever, ever," Anastasio said.
"Tonight,
I'm a little nervous."

The band's leader has long said the stage is where he's most
comfortable.
His frank introduction to the crowd set the tone for an emotional
farewell
concert that crystallized the longtime love affair Phish has had with
the
fans who have built the band from the ground up.

The opening set veered from full-force jamming to drifting solos. The
normally high-powered rocker "Chalkdust Torture" bogged down in a long
mad-scientist jam. Like many Phish improvisations, though, it wasn't
about
anything more than building the tension for the explosive return to the
melody they'd started those many minutes before.

"Chalkdust Torture" didn't end so much as it disappeared into "Possum,"
a
rockabilly-style sing-along highlighted by Anastasio's frenetic guitar
work that made for a high-energy, fan-favorite moment. Phish then
jumped
into "Wolfman's Brother." Joining the band on stage, in a kind of "This
Is
Your Life" moment, were John Paluska, the band's longtime manager, and
for
a hip-bumping dance between Anastasio and Gordon. Also coming on stage
were Anastasio's and Gordon's mothers.

The second set began strangely with "Down With Disease," the closest
thing
the band ever had to a hit. Anastasio's voice sounded tired, though
McConnell's lively keyboards and Jon Fishman's propulsive drumming
carried
the tune.

The extended tune flowed into McConnell's piano intro to "Wading In the
Velvet Sea." McConnell briefly had to take vocals over from Anastasio
who
seemingly lost his voice.

The group let flow a quick ditty with the lyrics "Glad, glad, glad that
you're alive/Glad, glad, glad that you arrived," an obvious ode to the
fans who trekked miles to the show.

It soon became obvious what was causing Anastasio's vocal problems:

"It's emotional, so we're having some emotional ups and downs here. I'm
sure you are, too," he told the crowd. He said he wanted to pass on his
"deep, deep love and appreciation for what you've given us."

Gordon spoke next.

"It's been a wild ride," he said. "I'm just the luckiest person in the
world to be able to do it with these guys, and thank you from the
bottom
of my heart."

Fishman thanked the fans who left their cars behind and made the
pilgrimage to Coventry. "All the people that walked in here, it's the
greatest compliment that we could have," he said.

Anastasio's voice broke as he reflected on the band's modest
beginnings.
He talked of how wide-eyed they were in 1983, how they thought they
could
break all sorts of rules in rock music. He talked of the strong
friendship
the four men formed.

"To always have these three people there with you.... Ahh, excuse me,"
Anastasio said.

And then he cried.