Thursday, September 3, 2015

Dave Matthews Band: My Musical Time Machine

The only thing more refreshing than a pleasant, late-summer night in an outdoor venue when you're listening to one of your favorite bands play is when you can also hear the voices of thousands of fellow fans singing along.

This unique musical kinship is increasingly rare in today's pop-driven music machine, but last Saturday, it was alive and well in the second show of Dave Matthews Band's two-night stand at Fiddler's Green Amphitheater. The band provided countless reminders of why they're still relevant: nostalgia for the simpler days of youth, memories of previous times seeing them in concert, and perhaps most importantly, evidence of a band still in its prime by refusing to play the same show twice.

Few artists or bands have captivated me over the years in the same way that Dave has... that's right: we're on a first name basis! In the nearly 20 years that I've been listening to them (starting waaayyy back in junior high, thanks to my cousins), each new album has been closely correlated to my personal experiences at the time and become a living soundtrack of sorts. My copies of their first two albums, "Under The Table And Dreaming" (1994) and "Crash" (1996), were practically worn out by the time I hit high school in 1997. 1998's "Before These Crowded Streets" was released the summer between freshman and sophomore year -- a particularly tumultuous time since I was switching schools. 2001's "Everyday" underscored the final months -- both exciting and intimidating -- of my senior year. Through it all, the precision and inspiration of their lyrics and the energy of their music gave me a reliable constant on my stereo even as I grew up and the world around me changed.

This appreciation of Dave and the gang continued well after graduation and beyond. 2002's "Busted Stuff" had a more serious edge that matched the angst of my early college days, while the smaller-scale intimacy of 2003's "Some Devil" (a solo project from Dave) featured prominently as I grappled with issues both personal and academic. After taking a year off from school, 2005's "Stand Up" was released as I prepared to go back for my senior year. Even their more recent efforts, 2009's "Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King" and 2012's "Away From The World," felt like they came to me at just the right times of change and opportunity. It's been said that scent is the strongest of the five senses in how it's tied to memory, but every so often, good music will come along that makes hearing a pretty strong trigger in its own right. Certain songs can take you back to an exact moment or association that you have with them, and -- at least for me -- Dave's music has consistently had that effect.

With all of this affection, I still can't believe that it's been so long since I've seen them perform! It all comes down to timing, I guess. My two previous Dave concerts were during back-to-back summers: visiting family in Philadelphia in 2000 and taking a miniature road trip to Boulder (I was living in Colorado Springs) in 2001. The Boulder show at the University of Colorado's Folsom Field was even recorded for a live album and concert film. My cheers are undoubtedly a needle in the haystack of sounds on the audio version, but I just HAVE to be on that DVD somewhere, right?! (Believe me, I've looked. The camera went by my section repeatedly. If anyone can actually spot me, I would be eternally grateful!)

Back in the present, Dave took the stage to thunderous cheers and applause, replying with a simple, soft-spoken "Hello. Happy middle of the weekend" before diving right into the music. The first several songs were primarily acoustic, and he was joined by his frequent collaborator Tim Reynolds on guitar. They also welcomed special guest Bela Fleck, renowned banjo and mandolin player, by joking that they would try to make room for him on the already crowded stage. After the acoustic warm-up, they gradually transitioned to their full electric sound, spanning a decent swath of their ample discography.

The selections were very diverse, but they tended to favor the band's first few albums by including several songs from each; unless I counted wrong, they didn't do anything from the two most recent albums. I normally don't cheat like this, but I looked up their set lists online from the three shows prior to mine (especially the first Denver show the night before). As luck would have it, I missed a few songs that I would have loved to hear. Then again, with 10 albums' worth of material -- their self-released indie debut plus eight studio albums as a band and Dave's solo album in the middle, not to mention a handful of cover songs and concert-only favorites -- it's always a gamble unless a tour is literally the same show every night. And who wants that?

Certainly not Dave Matthews Band. They have maintained the quality of their musicianship and the harmony of their collaborations. Despite replacing their saxophonist after the 2008 death of longtime sax player LeRoi Moore, the blend of their collective sound is as tight as ever. No one would be any the wiser if this shift weren't pointed out to them. DMB also spends large chunks of time on the road between albums. Given this reputation as a touring band, they like to play unique arrangements of songs and instrumental jam segments in a genuine effort to mix things up and keep the music fresh. Songs being played differently makes the element of surprise that much greater when you finally realize what they're doing, especially if it's a classic, and this show was no exception.

"Stay Or Leave," a sparse, haunting ballad (and personal favorite) from Dave's solo album, was elegantly fleshed out when played by the full band. Their iconic hit "Ants Marching" got some special treatment in the form of Dave singing scat over the introduction as well as violinist Boyd Tinsley putting his instrument through the paces to send off the song with new flourishes (and thankfully, no broken strings). The jazzy, sultry "Crush," already eight-plus minutes as recorded, was given an appropriately lively jam finale. The band also flowed nicely from "So Much To Say" into "Too Much," older Dave songs from the same album with just enough in common to be bridged together in a subtle yet effective way. I didn't realize it was happening until I found myself singing the lyrics of the latter.

Unlike other jam bands (ahem, Phish), Dave songs always have a beginning, middle, and end, whereas Phish songs feel like nothing but middle! Only during one song, "The Dreaming Tree," did the jams start to feel excessively Phish-like. There wasn't enough modulation or exploration in the music to warrant such an extension, and the song ended up clocking in at nearly 15 minutes. That's easily worth the longer versions of at least two other songs, but oh well. In the end, I can't really complain; Dave and the band more than sang for their supper, playing over two-and-a-half hours of music that was all solidly performed even when it got lengthy.

There was only one thing I would have liked to see more of: interaction with the crowd. Though his words are relatively few, Dave always seems pleasant and thanks the audience a lot, so at least he has good manners. When announcing that the band would return after a short break (something I don't recall happening in the past), Dave tripped over his words a little. "I can talk like this on stage because I'm a professional," he said, before adding, "Smooth..."

He also earned bonus points for the improvised jigs that he danced during those jams when the rest of the band is rocking out and he's standing by. While these moments were definitely memorable, the funniest situations of the night didn't involve the stage at all, but rather the drunk/high/both fans who were displaying their enthusiasm in various, increasingly awkward ways. I want to make SO many jokes at their expense (I do have a few really good ones), but it's just their way of expressing the same things that I feel about DMB and what they have meant to me.

When it comes to Dave, his band, and his music, looking back also means looking ahead. While there is no word yet about when a new album might arrive (not entirely surprising since Dave and company are known to take their time between recording sessions), I can't help but wonder where I'll be and what I'll be up to in my life. With plans on the horizon like grad school and a possible new career path, I could have a lot on my plate by the time those songs come to light. Until then, I'll patiently wait for the next chance to have another memory that links me to this deeply personal musical legacy.

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