Phish released their mammoth 6-CD live collection of two complete concerts Hampton Comes Alive in November of 1999. The mother-scratchers at their label wouldn't give me a promo copy, so it wasn't until last week, when cdnow.com slashed the price to an agreeable $49.99, that I finally got my hands on this monster. It clocks in pretty close to five hours, so I haven't listened to it all in one sitting, but I have formed some solid opinions about it, and about Phish in general. They go:

Overall: A majestic piece of work. And I'm not a total loony who thinks every belch of Phish's is worthy of a tape-tree trade. Indeed, I've never seen Phish live. This is certainly a set worth owning, even if you are a fair-to-middling fan. You get the bang for the buck. And I needn't sell it to the diehards, you own it already.

Community: My neighbors hate Phish. I've been coming home late, trying to devote at least an hour each week to one of the six discs. I inevitably crank the volume. The neighbor to the east of me bands through the wall. There's brick separating us; he lives in another building. He really doesn't like Phish. I don't know what's not to like.

Lexicon: Owning "Hampton Comes Alive" inspired me to reflect, without irony, upon the lead guitarist thusly: "Trey fuckin' wails." I was doing my best to explain his talents, and this was all that came out. Interesting, no?

Design: I've held my share of deluxe boxed sets, but never in so handsome a package as "Hampton Comes Alive." It opens on both ends, each section containing a full night's worth of music (three CDs.) It closes with a magnetic snap, and has this groovy, spooky 2001-lookin' cover. The discs are held in individual sleeves, which, when arranged like the faces of the Brady Bunch, make like a wacky Feng Shui type puzzle, either of the auditorium, band or road sign (depending which side is facing where.) It's all very time consuming and, ahem, far out.

The Music: It's six discs of solid rock/funk jams, but I've always contended that Phish were always the most accomplished instrumentalists working in this idiom. Yes, that includes the Dead. They also craft better songs, showing an understanding of harmonics ("Divided Sky") or the mighty riff ("Stash," "The Mango Song".) There are also examples of genuine purity of pop ("Free," "Train Song," "Farmhouse"). "Hampton," for better or for worse, focuses on the band's fun, funky side. This makes for better air guitar and easier listening, but for those of us who are also intrigued by Phish's play with dissonance, we may come up lacking. Some of it is on hand, like on "Possum," "Big Black Furry creature From Mars," or popping its head up at the apex of some of the more furious long jams, but for the most part, this is party-time Phish. Look to Trey Anastasio's "Surrender To The Air" project if the second disc of "Junta" turned you on.

The Covers: What would Phish be without wacky covers? "Hampton" opens with Gary Glitter's "Rock and Roll Part 2" and closes with Chumbawumba's "Tubthumping." You got it? In between: Stevie Wonder's "Boogie On Reggae Woman," Beastie Boys' "Sabotage," Bold As Love," "Get Jiggy With It" (with a little of Argent's "Hold Your Head Up" for good measure), something by Ween, "Cry Baby Cry." Most of these covers are done straight . . . that may be the oddest part.

The Pun: It took me a good long while before I got the joke with the title. Shoot me, okay? Learning that the shows were taped at the Hampton Coliseum in Virginia kinda turned that side of my brain off.

Fifty Bucks or More?: Yes, I feel it's worth it. I'll turn to this collection a lot. I don't, though, think it compares with the actual albums "Junta" or "Picture of Nectar." The studio albums' solos were cleaner, and the music was altogether more daring. The party atmosphere of the legendary Phish shows definitely takes some of the edge of their darker work. And the singing, never the focal point of Phish, seems all the more shallow live. The boys just aren't singers. They have a limited range, do that talky-singy thing well, but 6 discs of it gets tiresome. (It is in this regard, and this regard only, where the Grateful Dead are Phish's superiors.) Perhaps Phish should do like their hero Frank Zappa, and hire some real soulful African-American singers once in a while when their touring. What're Ike Willis and George Duke doing these days?

But I'm sure I'll be discovering new gems buried in this huge collection in the weeks to come. And Trey fuckin' wails, man. Trey fuckin' wails.