“Fuego,” Phish’s first album since 2009's “Joy” reveals a band in full command of themselves and their artistic agenda, not a minor accomplishment for a band whose last few studio efforts have often come across as thematically or musically disjointed. Or sometimes both.

Every Phish album contains terrific songs that the band quickly works to develop on the road, the best of which find their place in the bands canon. But the past few albums, “Joy, Undermind and Round Room” and extending even further back to 1998's “Story of the Ghost” seem incomplete, written under duress.

Not this time. The pieces are all in place for “Fuego,” and the album shines because of it. The band, healthy and artistically vibrant, have stashed away the personality clashes of the late 90's and 2.0 era. It seems that now was the exact moment for Phish to step up to the plate and knock an album out of the park.

“Fuego” is a very terrific album from a band enjoying a rare, for rock and roll at least, late career renaissance. And they show no sign of letting up anytime soon. When things are this good, on the road and off, what reason could they possibly have to stop?

The album’s opening song “Fuego” is an instant masterpiece, a collage of surrealistic lyrics and ferocious rock and roll. It’s an operatic song showcasing the bands patience in narrative delivery. When the song finally concludes, one feels as if they’ve been taken on a long and winding journey. And it is patience itself that is one of the hallmarks of this album evidenced by the measured pacing of tracks such as “The Line, Winterqueen” and “Devotion to a Dream.” Recorded live the day before the song debuted during Phish’s Halloween “Wingsuit,” set, “Fuego” both honors and cements the promise of that incredible evening.

Clocking in at almost 9 minutes, “Fuego” is an audacious way to open an album whose title can also be read as “FU Ego.” Nevertheless, the bombast and drama of “Fuego” reach the nuclear levels hinted at on the albums cover art by Spanish artist Paco Pomet. Drummer Jon Fishman’s kit work throughout the song prove that this dad of 5 children has more than regained his physical prowess as a stick man, something that’s been more and more evident on tour since at least the summer of 2012. These dads rock, hard. Guitarist Trey Anastasio’s horn-like guitar tone delivers melodic and rhythmic vengeance to this untamable number.

But the four virtuosos from Vermont are just getting started, using the next track, “The Line,” to downshift a gear or three. The combination of simple melodies, heart wrenching lyrics and four part vocal harmonies prove that Phish never required prog-rock theatrics or blinding speed to deliver an emotional bombshell. And like many songs on the album, “The Line” builds to an impressive crescendo that has one asking just how this band of four unassuming white men from Vermont can possible create such cacophony.

“Devotion to a Dream” speaks directly to the entire Phish enterprise. 30 years of music making, touring, changing the face of rock and roll, and the band remains committed to pushing further, promising that their “curtain is coming down.” Considering how the bones and tissue-if not the flesh and sinew-of this album were first debuted, at Boardwalk Hall’s Halloween show, the refrain “it’s today, it’s today” reminds both band and audience alike to stay in the present. The song itself is catchy and poppy with additional vocal harmonies and a well placed blues-infected solo from Trey Anasatasio, reminding the listener that this band lives and breathes on their guitarist’s stylistic range and vivacious fretwork.

The album flows beautifully. Phish and their elected producer Bob Ezrin, he of Pink Floyd and KISS fame, have opted to ebb and flow the pace of each song, contrasting the fast with the slow. This is Phish in control of the artifact we call a musical album. Perhaps a Phish we haven’t been familiar with in a long time.

“Halfway to the Moon,” a page McConnell number, is another instant classic. The band has been playing it in their live shows for a few years and that practice and polish is evidenced in this lush studio version. The mix is just right and Page, by far the most talented vocalist in the group, emits a honey-like timbre. Once again the song is capped off by a few rounds through the chord progressions to provide the band an optimal space to insert the energy of their live show. For a band whose chief criticism regarding their albums centered on the idea that that they could never effectively capture the magic and energy of their live performance, this seems to be something they are capturing very well on “Fuego.”

“Winterqueen” is another quiet song full of lush imagery (glaciers, caves, queens, the prince of music) that feels like the bright counterpart to “Steam,” a scarlet-tinged track the band has been successfully developing on the road. It’s a sparse song, with Jon Fishman’s tribal tom work driving an almost non existent beat. He knows so well what not to play.

And then the band launches into a stunning coda, complete with horns, a tasteful melody from Trey and a driving, almost funky bass line. I asked myself, again and again throughout the album, Where did THIS come from?

“Sing Monica” once again changes gears with an exuberant band crafting a no nonsense rocker as one immediately becomes aware of the bands’ vocal range. Their harmonies sound as good as they ever have. Perhaps better.

The Mike Gordon penned “555" gives the bassist a chance to shine with a gelatinous groove and crystal clear vocals, complimented by the scratchy, distant-echo effect given to drummer Jon Fishman’s contrapuntal music’s. The addition of strong horns and backing vocals gives this song a thick presence and one that will surely be foregrounded on Phish’s imminent Summer Tour.

“Waiting All Night” draws the band back into themselves, rounding the corner home with a mellow, drippy excursion into psychedelia, another characteristic of this album. It may be Dad Rock but these Dad’s were raised on Pink Floyd, which makes the Ezrin choice a thorough success.

“Wombat” is an hysterical cartoon of a song replete with sound effects and bombast. No one will ever hear this song and not think of Abe Vigoda in a wombat suit on stage with Phish.

But the heart and soul of the album remains with the concluding track “Wingsuit.” And though Phish opted to rename the album “Fuego,” perhaps a clever marketing decision, this album will forever be “Wingsuit” to me and I suspect many other people.

“Wingsuit” is one of the most beautiful songs that I’ve ever listened to and between this and “Fuego,” I feel that I get the full scope of Phish’s emotional and technical wizardry. Though “Wingsuit” may seem a simple song, like many on the album, its complexity is delivered in alternative ways: patient builds of emotion, swells of energy, perfectly managed by this virtuosic foursome. And then a concluding musical movement that is straight out of the Pink Floyd catalog. It’s a bravura closing statement to an album that is one of the band’s best.