My friend Mike and I had never seen a show in Madison Square Garden, so we were psyched when Phish announced their New Year's Run in 1998. We only got tickets for the 29th and 30th, and being phans who will never beg for tickets or ask for miracles, we decided that the two Phish shows would amp us up for a party in the Pocono mountains of Pennsylvania on New Year's. 

It was my tenth show, and I was not a CRAZY Phish fan at the time. They were my favorite band (I think), but on the night of December 29, 1998 I became addicted. The show was absolutely incredible----still my favorite out of the fifty I've seen. My first Limb by Limb took me to places I've never been before. You Enjoy Myself and The Divided Sky made me think it was actually New Year's. It was the greatest concert I'd ever seen. 

That night I actually "got it."  I realized that there would never be a band like this EVER AGAIN. But I couldn't put my finger on what it was about Phish that distinguished them from everyone else until my little encounter with a woman on the subway after the show. 

This old black woman who looked to be eighty years old sat down next to Mike and I with a bottle of change. She was very wrinkled and looked very poor. I gave her five dollars and she thanked me. I didn't pay any more attention to her until I heard this beautiful singing voice that sounded like a 19 year old Etta James or Sara Vaughn. To my surprise, this little old woman was singing the most beautiful rendition of Amazing Grace I had ever heard. 

I felt tears welling up in my eyes as this woman belted out the words with perfection. When she finished she cried out "Happy New Year!" And then she turned to Mike and I and said something I will never forget. She said "Music is what keeps me alive sometimes." I had been given the definition of what Phish was to me by a woman from another generation and from a different culture. Phish's music had a certain purity, a way for me to internalize my emotions by hearing a sound. They weren't there to be on a billboard or to tell me what politics I should consider, or belt out the cliché lyrics of modern pop. They were there to invent sound, to create music that meant something because it brought you outside of yourself. 

I'm not going to say that Phish is "keeping me alive." But I am thankful that I have the option to turn to Phish's music to help me reflect on my life. Their jams tell stories and create meaning in a way I cannot describe. And no other band I've ever come across has ever done that for me.

- Raymond A. Richards