TORONTO -- "Dude, I didn't like my first Phish show, either."

Out of all the complaints, comments, arguments, and threats that came in the wake of my panning of Phish's Molson Amphitheatre show last summer -- and, let me tell you, there were complaints -- that remains the most memorable, especially after the band's return to the same venue last night.

I mean, here was this nice guy, who, after seeing something like a dozen shows by the Vermont-based jam-rock phenom, called in to tell me my anti-Phish tirade was "fair." Fair because I made myself the outsider. Fair because I admitted I didn't get this band, while 15,000 other people at the show clearly did.

Unfortunately, our friend was in the minority. Considering I'd slagged off the band's infamous throng of followers, I was hardly surprised when a few -- okay, a few hundred -- "phans" took exception to my write-up.

Thing is, he made a great point: "The first Phish show" is a daunting mission, a sea of flailing arms and legs of interminable, canny, spacy jams fired off from a musically flexible quartet of players and aimed at those deeply in the know.

Second time around, it's amazing how much clearer it all seems.

Last night's Phish show was scarcely different from last year's -- from an outsider's point of view.

Sure, the show was made up of jams, most of which spanned at least 15 or 20 minutes each and filled out two sets that clocked in at roughly 90 minutes each. At its core, it hinged on a remarkable exchange of energy between band and audience.

The set list veered wildly away from the decent 11th album Farmhouse and dipped back into a list of Phish faves that stretches back some 15 years. Guitarist Trey Anastasio bounced effectively off a low-end, which, laid down by drummer Jon Fishman, bassist Mike Gordon and keyboardist Page McConnell, moved seamlessly from hippy-dippy noodling to electro-style grooves.

The band tended to peak early, laying down some of their most impressive work in the first 30 minutes of each set, but a wise, post-sundown lightshow added an extra blast of ambience. Still, one can't ignore an audience that stays on its collective feet for four hours these days, and even contains people who will badger other fans for not dancing.

Phish's crowd recognizes every improvisational hair-pin turn the band takes, sets up its own battery of tape recorders -- with the group's okay, of course -- and in many cases follows the band from town to town.

The result? A culture unto itself. And while I won't be part of it, I'm watching and listening.

JAM! Rating: 4 out of 5