This was a peak musical lifetime experience for me. Trey was happy and the band was tight from the beginning. Seemed like a tight set, but very normal, so I did a few chores during Possum and got back during the end of McGrupp (damn!). Oooooh! Things were getting crazy. I was suprised by Curtis Loew. The last time I'd heard that was on a mixtape a friend had made.

As soon as Split Open and Melt started, I knew it would take off onto another level like Spac night 2. There it went. My brain was absolutely scrambled. I wasn't such a fan of hte song until Spac 2. Now it seems to explode with possibilities. I get the feeling the guys love singing the group sections as well. The whole makeup of the song is absurd and odd, and they seem to get a kick out of bringing order to it.

Had some technical difficulties during Crosseyed, but after that it was just ecstacy. I don't really have words for what went on.

I'll quote Trey's recent Rolling Stone interview. Speaking of the experience of playing Big Cypress:

"But I just felt so small and insignificant. And I think that's kind of the goal with the live music. Is it just to be a tiny, tiny, tiny part of something?...I go onstage I meditate for five minutes on how much it isn't about me. That's kind of the most important part to me, is that I feel like I'm observing, almost like, I don't know, taking dictation or something. Even with the music, you don't think the earth's rising – it doesn't feel like we're making it up, it feel like we're just listening. It's like reach out – reach out with your ears, reach out with your heart, and just try to play what you hear...You just gotta get out and look around. I try to picture the guy in the back row – him or her in their house, trying to meet up with their friends and trying to find a parking space, and where they're standing, and the guy next to them is making too much noise, and somebody lost their ticket, you know, the lights go down, and we're just these tiny little parts of it over on one side of the room."

...That's what went on, but the experience extended beyond just one venue. The Internet has replaced TV, and Phish webcasts have taken the place of perfect television. Last night was like what Don Kirshner's Rock Concert could have been if it played live Gimme Shelter quality concerts every night. This whole tour has been for me like Prarie Home Companion was when I was a kid. These shows have been like watching baseball after a hard day of work or play.

Things really peaked last night, though. Trey was dancing around like a little kid, Kuroda's lights were tapping into the deep recesses of my soul...I've been a huge music fan all of my life, listening to a very wide variety of different stuff. I mocked Phishheads and Deadheads growing up. Now, I've been able to listen to this immortal jam stuff without spending money to buy the records and spending time to acquire the tapes. All music can be accessed equally, and Phish's music proves they are the absolute top of the pile. It seems now that Phish are the only living band I care about. Oh, and Acid Mothers Temple and Spectrum. Sorry.

I think the internet has also allowed them to get hipper---be a little less off in their own world---more approachable. I believe they want to play to a larger (and more attractive) audience, and I believe they will be rewarded. Like the Dead, they are an American treasure.

They are as good as the best bands from every era, so close with the audience, yet supremely humble. They play like they're not even there. They are just sitting back with us and listening to the magic.

I really didn't see any one individual webcast that was so amazing until now. These webcasts are not just a way for Phish to make a buck. They connects our insane fan cult on another level and the band knows it. We are more united and strong than a KISS Army!

Sorry this has gone on so long. It was just a magic night.