“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 is operatic, and showcases a new kind of patience in the bands ability to deliver a coherent narrative. When the song finally concludes, one feels as if they’ve been taken on a long and winding journey with many tangents explored and investigated. That patience is a characteristic of the entire album further evidenced by the measured pacing in 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, it is an audacious declaration of intent, opening 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, 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 memorable number.

But the four virtuosos from Vermont are just getting started, using “The Line,” to downshift a gear or three. The combination of simple melodies, heart wrenching lyrics and four part vocal harmonies prove that Phish no longer requires prog-rock theatrics or blinding speed to deliver emotional bombshells. And like many songs on the album, “The Line” builds to such an impressive crescendo that one must simply ask how is it that this band of four unassuming white men from Vermont can create such cacophony, such grandeur. I’ve felt that at shows many times recently.

When these men connect, on stage, and now, on record, they far exceed anything else they could ever be compared against, their peers or themselves even.

“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 remain in the present. The song itself? Catchy and poppy with lush vocal harmonies and a well placed blues-inflected solo from Trey Anasatasio, reminds the listener that this band lives and breathes on their guitarist’s stylistic range and vivacious fretwork.

And yet there is another component to “Fuego” that cannot be overlooked. It’s obvious that Phish enjoyed making this album. It comes through in every way. In every call and response vocal section, it comes in every sung harmony, it comes in the presence of truly co-written songs. It just comes. The album is playful and light, it can wallop you with song, emotion, sound even pure energy; And it flows beautifully. Phish and their elected producer Bob Ezrin, he of Pink Floyd and KISS fame, have opted to ebb and flow the album’s track selections, 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 over the chord progressions providing 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 no mater how hard they might try, they could never capture the magic and energy of their live performance, this seems to be something they do very well on “Fuego.” Perhaps its the combination of the Halloween Set and Ezrin’s attendance.

“Winterqueen” is another quiet song full of lush imagery (glaciers, caves, queens, the prince of music) that feels like a 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 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? “Winterqueen” might be my favorite song on the album.

“Sing Monica” once again changes gears, and now we have an altogether exuberant band crafting a no nonsense rocker. One becomes aware, again, of the bands’ vocal range. Their harmonies sound as good as they ever have. Perhaps better. Has Phish finally exorcised the ghost of their vocal issues that have haunted them in the past? Has age tempered their voices in such a way that we might never hear complaints about their singing?

Singing together has become one of Phish’s best skills in the studio. Think about that.

The Mike Gordon-penned “555" gives the bassist a chance to shine with a gelatinous groove and glacier-like vocals, offset by a scratchy, distant-echo effect given to drummer Jon Fishman’s contrapuntal lines. The addition of horns and even more backing vocals thickens the song.

“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. Importantly, it adds yet another curious animal to the Phish Zoo.

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.

The album version of “Wingsuit” is one of the most beautiful songs that I’ve ever heard. It takes me right back to that moment, just a few months ago, but which now, seems like an age, when Phish inaugurated this new era. This album, “Fuego” is the first true artifact of that album. The counterpoint to the JEMP set, which was a step backward in time. “Fuego” is the future. Yours and mine. Created for us by the band we call Phish.

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, latent effects that together weave a thick tapestry that seems to suspend time and freezes motion. It’s a bravura closing statement to an album that is one of the band’s best.