Reviews > Shows

Trey Anastasio in Denver

Trey Anastasio Band
The Ogden Theatre
Denver, CO
March 1

Whenever I think of Phish singer/guitarist/composer Trey Anastasio’s most powerful solo work, my mind always turns to “orchestral funk”—the term Anthony Keidis used to describe the Talking Heads’ large-band era (with Adrian Belew on searing lead guitar) when inducting the art-rock legends into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The Trey Anastasio Band (or TAB), reunited recently after several years of hit-or-miss mainstream rock experiments by Anastasio (who seemed to be craving the commercial success of his occasional collaborator Dave Matthews), hits Stop Making Sense-worthy heights by melding a high-energy horn section (which now features two female singers) driving bass and drums, swirling keyboards and Anastasio’s trademark Santana-inspired guitar improvisations.

And it was exactly that danceable, Santana-meets-Talking Heads “orchestral funk” (with a touch of complex Frank Zappa weirdness) that electrified the Ogden Theatre in Denver last night. The first of two sold out shows at the Ogden, Tuesday’s three-hour-plus performance by Anastasio and his six-piece band (down a few horns from TAB’s celebrated early 00’s run) featured an introductory acoustic set full of warmly welcomed Phish tunes. The jamband hero showed he’s equally adept at big-time rock solos and laying a mean capo. Crowd favorites such as “Theme from the Bottom,” “Wolfman’s Brother” and “Farmhouse” were abbreviated and stripped down so a smiling Anastasio could strum relatively simple chords and skip bridges and tackle lead vocal duties while the joyful audience sang the harmonies and call-and-response parts usually handled by his Phish brethren.

Anastasio’s version of “Theme from the Bottom” removed the ominous Bartok edge that makes that song special, but “Backwards Down the Numberline” and “Gumbo” provided the Denver crowd with chances to contribute levity and tenderness by singing intermittently odd and sweet lyrics so loud Anastasio could step away from the mic and grin.

“Gumbo” was included in a series of chatty moments Anastasio called, “VH1 Storytellers time,” in which he red-haired Vermont musician hilariously detailed secretly stealing irreverent passages from Phish drummer Jon Fishman’s journals when they lived together in the mid-’80s in Winooski, VT. “Tube” (with its lines about pregnant hens and rubber bottles) and “Gumbo” (“the sacrifice jars made bubbles / and spittle is everywhere”) provided not only a window into what Anastasio called “what it looks like inside the mind of Jon Fishman” but also a clue as to why so many music lovers can’t get past Phish’s often silly lyrics, sadly missing out on the quartet’s sometimes breathtaking compositions and group improvisations.