I had the pleasure of attending Phish's Mondegreen festival a few weeks ago, and I happened to experience one of the most profound musical events of my life.  Phish has a history of doing an unannounced "thing" at some point during their festivals.  At a previous festival, it was a jam session from the top of an air traffic control tower.  For Mondegreen, there were some rumors about what it might be and when it might happen.  I heard it might be some sort of ambient instrumental thing in the middle of the night, which honestly didn't sound that appealing, especially after a full night of music, especially on one of four nights of music. 

What ended up happening has come to be called "the Secret Set," which was a 50-minute continuous improvised instrumental jam, with a series of trippy videos projected on a screen covering the entire stage.  It was performed live, in front of ~40,000 people, on the first try, in one take.  In a word, it was incredible. 

As I've mentioned before, Phish as a band is all about energy management.  And the Secret Set was no different.  It started off calm and breezy.  There were ups and downs.  Ins and outs.  Tension, release.  Deconstruction, reconstruction.  The entire thing was like a story -- birth, growth, conflict, chaos, despair, resolution, celebration.  It ended like an explosion. 

The main difference with this was that they didn't play a single Phish song.  Usually their jams are centered around a song, or sandwiched between two songs.  Even if the audience gets lost or bored, you know the band will eventually find their way back to familiar ground.  This had none of that.  What was interesting is that they almost played a few Phish songs.  And quite honestly it's surprising they didn't.  Musicians tend to go back to what they're comfortable with.  Also, there are only so many combinations of chord progressions you can play before you cover something you've done before.  And Phish did a little of that, but they seemed to intentionally avoid playing their songs. 

The most significant aspect of it all was the unknown.  The audience had no idea what to expect.  We had no idea what was happening, how long it would take, or where it would end up.  There was a palpable feeling of anticipation in the air.  There was a sense of familiarity, because we knew why we were there and generally what we were dealing with.  But there was also a sense of kid-on-Christmas-morning surprise.  Like, "I can't wait to see what happens, and I hope it never ends."  The final sequence of the set felt like a party, a reunion, something you've never seen or heard before, but exactly what you were hoping it would be.  I remember walking out of the venue and saying to some friends, "I don't know how they did it, and I didn't think they were gonna figure it out, but they got there."  Just absolutely mind-blowing. 

I've listened to the recording of the Secret Set a few dozen times now, and every time I get the same array of feelings.  But listening to it live for the first time was nothing short of magical.  Easily a top-five life experience for me. #music