That said, ''Hampton'' is a detailed, satisfying portrait. Alongside the trademark wit (welding Argent's proto-metal anthem ''Hold Your Head Up'' into ''Gettin' Jiggy Wit It'') are moments of delicacy (the spiraling jazz-fusion coda of ''Stash'') and poignancy (a sweet take on the Beatles' ''Cry Baby Cry''). As a band whose lyrics are populated by kleptomaniacal pets, space monsters, winking drug references, and Psych 101 queries into the nature of consciousness, Phish speak most articulately through their jams and cover versions, which are well represented. In fact, disc No. 6 -- which begins with the Beastie Boys' ''Sabotage,'' adventures through the band's own ''Simple'' and ''Weekapaug Groove,'' and finishes with a hilariously triumphant ''Tubthumping'' -- may be the best single Phish CD ever.
For layfolk, a six-CD boxed set may seem like overkill, and admittedly, this sags at points. But for a band whose art is about live improvisation and stylistic breadth, the scale makes sense. And trust me: When the Internet eventually makes every show that every jam band has ever played downloadable, these discs will read as masterpieces of concision. B
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