Dave Matthews ends tour in SLC
The eclectic, unusual and instantly recognizable Dave Matthews Band ended their summer tour at the Delta Center Aug. 21, showcasing their latest songs in a marathon two and a one-half-hour set.
The band was in top form, flirting with various genres, offering a different kind of song for everyone in their wide audience. There were solo showcases for the fans of the jams (“JTR”); idealistic love songs for the couples (“crazy”), and up-tempo, MTV-motivated pop for everyone else (“I did it”).
Most of the songs improved upon the original studio versions, particularly the tracks from the band’s latest release Everyday. On the album, the songs sound grounded and mediocre. Live, the extended solos and added visual elements give them vibrancy.
Ironically, some of the best songs of the set were from The Lillywhite Sessions, an album Matthews scrapped in favor of Everyday. Dark and haunting, the Lillywhite songs struck a nerve with the sold-out audience.
“Pour me one drink to remember and one drink to forget,” sang Matthews in “The Maker,” a Lillywhite leftover that was lyrically bleak, but ended with optimistic instrumentation. “Grey St.,” also from The Lillywhite Sessions, was riotous and desperate, a Matthews classic that captured an emotion in its rawest form.
Interestingly, the band only played two songs from their first three albums, and they manipulated those tunes so they seemed new.
“Too Much” from Crash, sounded like an under-water boogie, with a funky bass line that Bootsy Collins would’ve been proud of. “Ants Marching” had an extended, bare bones intro and featured the group’s signature solos to finish it off.
The Dave Matthews band seems content to be moving forward instead of bombarding audiences with their greatest hits night after night like most groups do.
Maybe they are tired of faking it. One can only imagine how many times they’ve performed “Satellite” or “Crash Into Me.”
As the Salt Lake City concert shows, everyone in the Dave Matthews Band knows his role and remains in unison with the other members. Looked at individually, they seem like cartoon characters. There is Boyd Tinsly, the wind-up-toy violinist, bassist Stefen Lessard, a Stray Cat could-have-been with bending knees and a 30’s style felt cap.
Leroi Moore, the session saxophonist, is cool, but not quite comfortable, drummer Carter Beauford, content to pound away at the symbols and snare drums that encircle him, and at the center is Matthews. His acoustic guitar keeps the other instruments on the ground. His raspy, expressive voice gives meaning to the feeling.
It was impressive. As the band performed beneath a suspended colony of white lights, they looked exalted, like Generation X’s new rock gods.