If you've been to college, are planning to attend college, live near a college, or at least know what a college is, then you have surely heard of Trey Anastasio and his band, Phish. This is not to say that Phish, which Anastasio co-founded in 1983 while a student at the University of Vermont, makes college music. It simply means that the group -- with its bright blend of improvisation-heavy rock and never-ending tours that recall free-spirited predecessors like the Grateful Dead and the Allman Brothers Band -- tends to find listeners at that college age, when kids are seeking greater challenges in their music and ready for some grown-up experimentation. Their massive, intensely loyal following has made Phish one of the most successful live acts of all time, capable of selling tens of millions of dollars of tickets in a single year.

But a funny thing happened to Phish on its way to success: It broke up -- sort of. Following a show in October 2000, Anastasio sat down with keyboardist Page McConnell, drummer/ band namesake Jon Fishman and bassist Mike Gordon, and they collectively agreed that Phish was no more. Anastasio spent the next two years immersed in a variety of side projects, including playing in the rock trio Oysterhead (with Primus' Les Claypool and the Police's Stewart Copeland), composing for the Vermont Youth Orchestra and pursuing a solo career. Then, in late 2002, Phish declared its "hiatus" over, released its tenth studio album, Round Room, and resumed its exhaustive touring schedule.

For all the critical bluster Phish has generated (smarter-than-thou rock critics live to loathe hippie jam bands), there's no question the 38-year-old Anastasio is a musical savant. He's as comfortable referencing Bach and Tommy Dorsey in conversation as he is hanging with Nelly and Kid Rock in real life. Calling in from his vacation in the British Virgin Islands (where he composed the music for his new solo record, Plasma), the Phish front man unflinchingly offered up his opinions on everything from drugs to politics to the burdens of leading a rock group -- and probably composed an entire opera while he was talking.