When I think about the music of Phish, it signifies for me almost the whole of the early to mid-90s, specifically the time I was at college. Sure, grunge was exploding and nu-metal was, uh, grooving, but you couldn’t walk across campus without a) getting close to smacked by runaway hacky sacks, and b) said near-hacky sack attack being accompanied by the music of Rusted Root, the Spin Doctors, Dave Matthews Band or Phish. They’re the quintessential jam band in my mind, for better or for worse, and when I finally caved in to check them out it was with A Live One, their first official live release. My approach was similar to how I got into The Grateful Dead – if they’re known for their live shows, might as well start off with one of those, huh?

My response was weird, and revisiting it now not much has changed. It’s clear that the technical prowess of Trey Anastasio, Page McConnell, Mike Gordon and Jon Fishman are formidable – each one a master of their instrument. And the production of A Live One is more than solid: taken from across their 1994 tour promoting their most recent release Hoist directly from the soundboards, everything is crisp and cohesive despite each song being recorded in different venues (the “Clifford Ball” reference is a joke). Because of their jam band status each song mutates in ways the studio versions only hinted at, and there are five songs that at that time had never appeared on al album, including “Slave To The Traffic Light” and “Harry Hood”, both of which are highlights on the double CD.

So, should be right up my alley based on what I previously looked for in live albums. But whereas with the Grateful Dead I was instantly taken, so much so that after a sniff and “no thank you” to the studio albums I went on a binge collecting not only the official live releases but many of the Dick’s Picks series, with Phish I kinda just…stopped. I was looking for improvisation and exploratory soloing. I got that, kind of. But what comes across on many of the songs on A Live One is extending vamping, the same bouncy, jaunty riffs and grooves that I can see a bunch of kids swaying along to (or older people now), happy and beaming and shuffling their feet. But it never sounds like it reaches to anyway, it’s more just settling into a groove.

That doesn’t stop some of the tracks from working for me. Opener “Bouncing Around the Room” is a concise romper, getting the fans up and using clever vocal canon, and “Stash” uses its syncopated, Tango-like vibes to really sound like nothing else on the album. But from there while I can point to segments and ideas in songs I dig, like the massive instrumental opening to the 20-minute “You Enjoy Myself” with Anastasio wailing on the guitar or the second, jazzy half of “harry Hood” the rest often to my ears sounds like a band simply relaxing into the moment. Which I get is exactly the vibe fans want from Phish – there’s a reason they’re such a huge draw across the country over 30 years later.

But I wish the jams and solos were searching for something…does that make sense? When I hear Jerry Garcia wander off I hear a man reaching for something just out of reach, and the entire band reaches, and searches with him. The music sounds fun – it often is fun – but I never get the same sense from Phish. It also sounds like a great time with some expert musicians who wander and meander and then find their way back where they started.

That’s not entirely fair, and I admit a lot of that probably has to do with the time I heard them, the context and the culture that reinforced it. And listening again this morning to the back half of “Harry Hood” I have to admit there’s a sense of fun that is catching. But ultimately despite the incredible playing and wicked solos, and the admiration that something like this is so incredibly popular and could be the soundtrack to an entire experience (whether willingly or not) Phish is just not for me.

That’s okay. I’m sure everyone will be just fine.