Playboy sent one of their writers to the Baker’s Dozen run and brought back this writeup, but you already knew that because you only read it for the articles.
Despite Phish fans’ assurances of high-five, live-and-let-live attitudes, the whole thing never seems as welcoming as they say it is. Debate not over favorite songs but favorite historical instances of songs is a classic Phish-fan pissing contest. When the band plays a deep cut or cover you don’t recognize, for example, you don’t really want to turn to your neighbor to ask for its title. This is an outsider’s fear, but it feels like there are a lot of rules—you can like Phish, but to really like them, you have to commit. What draws the difference between being passionate and obsessed, and where would I land?
