We went and saw Dave Matthews Band at General Motors Place last Friday night. While I’m a fan of the band, the key reason I’m a fan is because they’re a jam band. Unfortunately, there was little jamming to be found at the concert until the last twenty minutes of the encore. Only then did the band reveal the Dave Matthews Band I originally coughed up $50 (plus service charge) to see.
To start with, we had Dave Matthews Fan Club members #2 and #3 located directly in front of us. And when I say directly, I mean directly. These were the variety of rabid, foaming-at-the-mouth fans that insist on standing up during every song, continuously commenting on the various nuances of bootleg copies of live concert recordings of the current song that they’d picked up off the Internet. I couldn’t stand it. One of the guys was six-and-a-half feet tall. I could only partially experience the concert through one of the two gigantic screens that were projecting a live feed of the concert.
Television. I had paid to attend a live concert, only to end up watching it through television.
You’ll notice that I only mentioned Fans #2 and #3. That’s because Fan #1 deserves special recognition. Fan #1 was located directly behind me and to my right, at an ideal position to deliver a mind-splitting whistle at each and every possible inappropriate juncture. Several times. Followed by an annoying hoarse laugh and a “Whoo-hooo!”, to make matters worse. Hell. I was in Hell, and this was how I was going to spend the eternity that was this concert. $50. And what the hell was that service charge for? It should have covered the cost of two burly men to drag away Fans #1, #2, and #3, with enough change left over for a tip.
In a moment of supreme self-control, I politely asked Fans #2 and #3 to take a seat. And after convincing them that, yes, I truly was “into” the Dave Matthews Band, and no, shuffling awkwardly in a standing position did not constitute “getting into it” and was not a fitting tribute to such a truly spectacular band, they sat their asses down. Two down, one to go.
Little did I know that Fan #1 would soon prove his worth, even if only by coincidence. After a quiet opening encore song, Fan #1 displayed heroic effort by insisting on screaming “TWO STEP!” repeatedly at the top his lungs, as if the concert were request night at the local watering hole and the Dave Matthews Band were a second-rate cover band. Amazingly, they played the song, though it was unclear if this was their intention all along or if, like me, they’d grown tired of this bozo and just wanted him to shut up at any cost. The song turned out to be the best of the night.
The rendition of “Two Step” consisted almost entirely of an improvised solo by the session pianist on the tour who, despite a slow start, quickly energized the audience with a jazz-style solo that changed the entire dynamic of the song. While the rest of the concert was well executed, complete with dazzling lighting and incredible camera work by the live TV team, it lacked the passion or spontaneity I had paid to see. In the end, I paid $50 for a single song.
But, in the end, it was all worth it.