Every city needs a house large enough to hold its biggest hero. For Dave Matthews Band’s first of two gigs this weekend (and first in Charlottesville since September 2006), the John Paul Jones Arena nearly proved too small.
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Big Whiskey a-go go! Dave Matthews Band doused a packed John Paul Jones Arena with a few new tunes on Friday night. (And again on Saturday, for good measure.) |
Not right away, of course: There were still gaping holes in the audience as I made my way to the floor for an opening set from Old Crow Medicine Show, who veered towards “Honky Tonk Women”-era Rolling Stones at its best moments and struggled to justify two nearly inaudible banjo players at its most difficult ones. Hell, I could’ve two-stepped without kicking a dancing Nancy while the Crows pecked away at a few well-wailed tunes like “Hard to Tell” and “Humdinger” (“We got wine, whiskey, women and guns” is the sort of distanced bluegrass humor I can dig), and struggled with a gutless cover of Bob Dylan’s “Wagon Wheel.”
But space became an issue as a long, black veil encircled the stage and swarms of fans—not “listeners,” because no one comes to a DMB show to be won over—crawled out from under their seats, down from the rafters, materialized in groups of four and five around the arena. Red lights hit the black curtain and lit our heroes as sprawling giants, before the curtain pulled apart.
And there they were, fronted by a Matthews that looked more slim and shaved than in his recent press photos, already going knobby-kneed as he steered the band into the great one-two punch that opens Before These Crowded Streets—from the acoustic breeze of “Pantala Naga Pampa” into the American funk and African rhythms of “Rapunzel.” Flanked on his right by the enormous shoulders of Boyd Tinsley and guitarist Tim Reynolds, on his left by lively bobble-bassist Stefan Lessard and a two-piece horn section, with drummer Carter Beauford riding his back, Matthews went for fan favorites early, following his opening combo with the sonic ascension of “Satellite,” while a baritone sax sat, untouched, in its stand.
Not for long, however; the band peaked early in a set of more than a dozen tunes. “I hope that this evening finds everybody groovy,” croaked Matthews, eyebrows waggling in mischief, before kicking off the night’s best group of songs— the goose-honk sax fills of “You Might Die Trying,” new single “Funny The Way It Is,” and a simple, celebratory cover of Talking Heads’ “Burning Down the House.”
For this writer’s first time in years, new DMB material seemed exciting, a bit edgy—as if the band spent more time finding new ways to engage its strengths: the offbeat punches on horns and drums, a few harrowing howls from Matthews. The key change in “Funny” felt a bit heavy-handed, but it was a welcome slap. And another new track, “Why I Am,” threw Matthews and his band headlong into accelerating choruses that doubled, stopped on a dime and took off again while gigantic trumpeter Rashawn Ross double-fisted his horns.
The band seemed to go a bit light on the first few songs of its encore, picking up only slightly for the double-timed choruses at the end of “So Damn Lucky.” They’d already hit a few ecstatic peaks, after all—a searing sax and drums duel in a quarter-hour version of “#41,” the for-the-crowd “Ants Marching,” and a “People in every direction” cheer that strained against the ceiling of John Paul Jones Arena.
Yet bassist Stefan Lessard found a final minor key riff in him, and kicked up a dust storm of high notes to open the band’s cover of “All Along the Watchtower” in the arena, the only home left in town that could contain DMB’s crowd and noise. And as the wind began to howl, Matthews gulped air, huffed, puffed, and finally blew the house down. Hard to imagine that, tomorrow, he’d do it again.