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Phish: Live in Brooklyn Label: Rhino Released: 2006

Listen. It’s Friday night and I’m just hanging out trying to drown out the week with possibly the worst TV a person of my age and stature could possibly imbibe in. Or is it, “in which to imbibe.” Whatever. Totally doesn’t matter right now. (Editor’s note: it’s just “imbibe,” no “in” or “in which to” required.) What does matter is that I was watching the episode of Pee-Wee’s Playhouse that I TiFaux’d (FYI: TiFaux is the digital cable box version of Tivo) a few nights ago and I got really hungry. Dude, my hunger totally triggered a moment of self-awareness and an awakening in which I knew I could solve all of the world’s problems. This moment is like learning Gram Parsons was your bio dad. You’re welcome, world! No need to thank me. It’s just little old me fixing the world. I’m a jedi. A hippy jedi. Even Yoda wasn’t mellow, hence hippy jedi’s are better.

Damn it, what was I talking about?

Oh, yeah. Hippies. So, after I ate an organic tofu soy bean curd pita wrap, I jumped into my studio to write a review of this record. And through the haze of flatulence brought on by the aforementioned meal, my mind began to drift back to my personal trips to Coney Island. Holy shit. If Disney Land/World is the happiest place on earth then…well, I don’t know how it compares to Coney Island. Let’s see… I’ll bet you can’t drink beer in a styrofoam cup through a straw in Disney Land/World. You can in Coney Island! (Note: I only enjoy drinking a beer through a straw in Coney Island. I don’t want shit from anybody.) I bet you can’t step on a needle and meet the needle’s owner passed out next to it in Disney Land/World. You can in Coney Island! This is a true story. I once watched a group of probably 40 people do the motherfuckin’ Electric Slide in front of a row of portable toilets at 1am in Coney Island. Top that, Mickey Mouse! Can’t be done, kid.

Okay, so if I have to explain to you who Phish are or what they sound like, then I’m happy you came out of your coma but…you’ve got a lot more to learn before you get to the intricacies of Phish. Like the internet, for instance. It’s a magical place where you can look at free porn and read things like this shitty review. Knock yourself out.

In closing, if Phish ever gets back together, they better write a song called “Hippy Jedi.” That’s all I’m saying.