Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: phish (Page 5 of 10)

Posing, Posing With The Band

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“He is not a Phish, Trey.”

“No, Page. Just sitting in for one night.”

“And when he leaves, you will stay?”

“Yes, buddy.”

“Can I sleep in your room tonight?”

“No, we’re both going to sleep in our own rooms with our wives.”

“She does things to me.”

“She’s supposed to, Pagey.”

“She tickles my button until I make shame on myself.”

“Love ya, buddy.”

“Oh, I love you so much, Trey. Trey?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Where is the smelly lady?”

“On the end in the sunglasses.”

“No, that is a smelly man.”

“Same person, buddy.”

“Men are not ladies, Trey. That’s what makes them men. And their buttons.”

“Bob?”

“Troy?”

“That trade deal still on the table?”

“I’m gonna keep you in suspense.”

“Great.”

Blank Page

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“Please don’t take Trey, Mr. Bobby.”

“Who?”

“Him. My friend who smiles and solos.”

“Ah. You call him Trey? Is that short for Troy?”

“I don’t understand, Mr. Bobby. Trey is Trey, and he is my friend.”

“Yeah, no. I’m not gonna take him.”

“Trey is a Phish. I am a Phish, and Mike who is mean to me, and the smelly lady who plays drums. And Trey.”

“Gotcha.”

“And you cannot be a Phish. There are four of us. That is why ‘four’ and ‘Phish’ start with the same letter.”

“Can you read, buddy?”

“Trey is teaching me, Mr. Bobby.”

“Since when?”

“We met in 1985.”

“Ah.”

Got To Find A Number To Use

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SO EXCITING!

“The little team-up thing we did? Yeah, big fun. You bet.”

Playin’!

“There’s a G.”

Glayin’?

“At the end of the word. Playing in the Band. Truckin’ doesn’t have a G.”

You love writing songs with participles in the name.

“They, uh, might be gerunds.”

Wait: they could just be verbs.

“Doesn’t really matter.”

Nah. BECAUSE YOU PLAYED PLAYING IN THE BAND WITH PHOSH!

“Good time.”

When you counted it off, I was like, “What could it be?” and then you went past four. Once you hit five, I was all, “Oh my God, they’re gonna do Estimated.” BUT THEN YOU KEPT GOING UP UNTIL TEN.

“Bit of a giveaway there, yeah.”

Not too many songs in 10/8.

“Well, you know: we did songs in all kinds of weird times. Did one in eleven.”

The Eleven.

“And thirteen.”

The Thirteen Jam.

“And seven.”

The Seven. Also, the first name of Playing was The Main Ten.

“Uh-huh. What’s your point?”

No point at all.

“Like usual.”

Aw.

“Hey, uh: quick question.”

Mike Gordon.

“That was the question. Thanks.”

Phish You

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“Troy, question.”

“Sure, Bobby. What?”

“What song is this?”

“That we’re playing?”

“Yeah.”

“Playing in the Band. You wrote it.”

“No, it doesn’t go this fast.”

“Um, yeah, okay. The tempo’s speedy, sure.”

“Is the song being chased?”

“Um, no.”

“Then why is it going so fast?”

“We play fast, I guess.”

“You gotta luxuriate in a tune. I feel like I’m in a heavy mental band.”

“Oh, uh, I forgot to ask at soundcheck: how do you wanna go from the jam part back into the song part?”

“We were gonna fuck it up.”

“Oh, good. That’s how we used to do it.”

Lawn Bob

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“Wait. You’re Troy.”

“Close enough.”

“What do you think about laundry?”

“I don’t think about laundry.”

“Yeah, that’s the right answer.”

“Oh, right: didn’t Josh start a laundry company or something?”

“All of us did, but he’s the only one taking it seriously. Billy bought the laundromat–”

“Just for skank?”

“–just for skank. Yeah, Billy’s decided to grow old disgracefully.”

“I picked up on that.”

“Oh, you know Billy?”

“We’ve met.”

“So, uh: you wear that sort of outfit all the time?”

“A shirt and jeans? Pretty much. I wore a nice shirt last week and the internet was dickish about it.”

“But not, you know: crazy get-ups or anything?”

“Not lately, no.”

“And that ‘staring into the distance’ face you make: that’s the worst of it?”

“I guess.”

“You know all the Dead songs already, right?”

“Bobby, you can’t trade guitarists.”

“I think I can. Who manages you?”

“IS MR. BOBBY TAKING YOU AWAY AGAIN, TREY?”

“Jesus, Bob, now you’ve upset Page.”

West L.A. Phadeaway

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“Josh, you look terrible.”

“Do you mean John? I’m pretty sure you mean John, and I’m not him.”

“You’re soloing incessantly. That’s what Josh does.”

“Not Josh, Bobby. Trey.”

“Not ringing a bell.”

“It just occurs to me that I have no idea what you think my name is.”

“Probably not wrong.”

“Trey Anastasio.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“From Phish.”

“No, thanks. I’m a vegan this week.”

“The band, Bob. Jesus, man: I played with you at Fare Thee Well.”

“Phil?”

“Just play the song, Bob.”

Playing In The Phish

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“Trey.”

“Huh?”

“Trey!”

“Page, what?”

“Why am I not in the picture? Did you replace me with Mr. Bobby?”

“Page, just play the song.”

“I DON’T KNOW THIS SONG! It it not a Phish song! Phishes play Phish songs and Grateful Deads play Grateful Dead songs!”

“Buddy, if you just make it through the set, then I’ll buy you ribs after the show.”

“Is he coming?”

“No, Bobby’s a vegan this week.”

“I thought he was American.”

“Y’gotta concentrate for me, Pagey.”

“I like ribs.”

“Course ya do, champ. Now calm down and play your dozen pianos.”

“I like playing my pianos.”

“Yeah.”

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