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Rating: We arrive in WPB at 2 PM. The desk operator at the hotel assumes we are there for the concert and hands us the flyer with the event advertisement, photos, and directions to the legendary Sound Advice Amphitheatre. Yes, how absent-minded of us. What for us is THE EVENT, there is the everyday. We park our Chevrolet right next to a tank with the firedancer sticker and take possession of our room. For a few minutes, because immediately after we have an appointment at Rodrigo Simas's hotel, webmaster of DMBrasil. Photos, parties, exchange of gifts, the historic meeting is even filmed, after 2 and a half years of telephonic friendship, with Rodrigo and Dietre, his girlfriend. Rodrigo gives us the ticket for Zampa and asks if we want to go to Sound Advice with them, immediately. I'm about to respond, but Zampa anticipates me saying it's too early and we'll go for a tour of WPB. We thus arrange to meet at point X (how I’ll regret this choice, but I never could have imagined that he meant to take us backstage!!)
The arrival at the (free!!) parking of Sound Advice is a spectacle: Americans camping everywhere with deck chairs, sun loungers, barbecues, refrigerators full of beer and Dave's voice in the air booming out of stereos at full volume. But what strikes us the most is the order, the cheerfulness, the festive atmosphere. Everyone is calm and relaxed. We are in a tizzy. At the entrance, they stop me for the camera, and I’ll have to leave it in the car, alas. The place is fantastic. An outdoor amphitheater that slopes down towards the stage. On the bleachers (the lawn lined with palm trees of the famous lown) a colorful and cheerful mass of humanity is already in position. The numbered seats reach up to the stage, and they say the acoustics are perfect. We wander among the kiosks and little bars selling food, and we take a look at the merchandise. While waiting for Rodrigo, an American grabs my tank top featuring the DMBItalia logo chirping, "I WANT THIS T-SHIIIIIIIIRT!!!!!". I politely refuse smiling, but she insists, calls her boyfriend to introduce us; they are amazed that we are Italians, she absolutely wants to exchange my tank top with her extra-large size t-shirt with a writing that says more or less “I own Dave Matthews”. Finally, Rodrigo arrives, who shortly after goes back to the backstage to ask if he can take us in. We remain there astonished. A guy comes over, weighs us up with a curious look, then asks if we are part of "some kind of Italian fan club". Sure, but we are so paralyzed with emotion that we don't engage and treat him a bit dismissively, he asks several times if we came from Italy for the concert... of course... and we will be here tomorrow too. He’s incredulous. He leaves and comes back dragging Rodrigo by the hand “Did you see who's here? They came from Italy!”: Rodrigo bursts out laughing, of course, they're my friends!! "BUT DID YOU TELL DAVE??" Rodrigo explains that he’s trying to get us in. Only now do we realize that the guy is part of Dave’s staff and is dragging Rodrigo in for the mission. Our legs are trembling, we are literally incredulous. Other staff people, attracted by the Italian shirted people, come out to have a look, smile, greet us, etc.
But the show’s start time looms and inside are those from Aol for the interview and filming. Too late. Rodrigo promises he will get us passes for the next day. Meanwhile, the opening band is playing, which in some moments reminds us of Bruce Springsteen. A large group of fans is in front of the stage to acclaim them. In a moment, it’s showtime. When I approach my seat, I feel faint: I’m almost glued to the stage, and it’s with a faint voice that I reply to my neighbors (always intrigued by the shirt and my origins). My neighbors are as varied as you can imagine: ages range from 14 to 60. In the air, the intense smell of marijuana guarantees passive smoke for the entire duration of the show. The atmosphere continues to be very easygoing, a festive and cheerful air. I am a bundle of emotion, I am literally stunned. The roar and their arrival on stage bring me back to a reality I can hardly believe. I recognize after half a nanosecond the intro of Don’t drink the water and feel like I’m in Central Park. How many times have I seen this band on DVD and now that they are a few steps from me, I realize that what I’m witnessing has nothing comparable to what I’ve seen before. The sound is powerful and perfect, the DMB consists of sacred monsters in perfect harmony. Carter is an octopus, and his drums seem like extensions of his fast, powerful, elegant limbs. He always smiles because he's just like that; he’s irresistibly charming and natural, he sings, laughs, chews gum, and maneuvers through rolls and strong punctuations like a king on his throne. Boyd is a stage animal. His quilted black tank top leaves nothing to the imagination: while handling the violin with superb and wild mastery, every smallest fiber of every muscle group vibrates and tenses in unison with his forward leaps on the stage greeted by the audience’s roar. Dave is in an impossible outfit, bundled up in a pair of baggy gray striped trousers that are unwatchable. He wields his thousand guitars and injects pure energy into each of us. His voice is beautiful, coming from the caves of pain and sweet and intense like a poignant love. Rashawn strengthens Leroi’s touch in a complementary and never superfluous or dissonant manner. Butch is impeccable and thrilling when he punctuates with his Latin jazz phrases. A little less when he enters with his Bee Gees falsettos. And Stephan… well, his skill unfortunately reckons with a modest stage presence, of someone who seems to have been catapulted there randomly directly from Wyoming… hey man!!!!
We dance and sing in unison, and it’s already What would you say. In Proudest Monkey I’m happy. First, because it’s a song I love, but mainly because a good group of viewers takes advantage to go drink, so I deftly sneak past the very attentive security and get to the front row. When Satellite starts, I turn towards Dietre, a few rows back, because I know it was the piece that mesmerized her and got her into the DMB. Our eyes meet in a knowing smile. The idea of you live is very beautiful, and on this first night in WPB, illuminated by the full moon among the palms, it is sung well, differently from the day. Thrilling. As is the subsequent You might die trying. And finally (for me) Warehouse live!!!!! One of my absolute favorites. The joy of living, singing, and dancing, and there we are, all together, it's wonderful. In Sleep To Dream Her the sections empty out again, and I, along with another small group, drag a kid with crutches to the front (you can see him well in the AOL video, always in the front row glued to the stage, the next evening, while cheering his idols with the crutch) When Dave takes up the electric guitar, I understand that Smooth Rider is coming; I adore it. Yes, I’m surprised to adore two pieces from Stand Up: Smooth Rider and Hunger For The Great Light (which they will play the next day, live is a delirium in which you get lost, fall apart, and come back together, dazed). Just as I will be madly in love with the American Baby intro the next day (which, however, has nothing to do with Stand Up).
But Last Stop is the true revelation.The moment of the concert that will make me understand the phenomenon of the DMB in America and how far it is light-years from Europe. It has to be listened to live: the music is relentless, it has something psychedelic, it’s a kind of vortex wrapped in the marijuana cloud hovering around us, many listen with closed eyes, losing themselves in a trip that seems endless. Suddenly, I feel projected into an absolutely different historical and cultural dimension. The stylistic characteristics that have forged the originality of DMB's sound (that fusion of country, rock, jazz) may not be immediately accessible to the European public, more savvy musically, closer to the English background, post-rock, minimalism, or grunge. I realize that the biggest American audience base of DMB is represented by the hippie culture, which is still very strong in the States and attracts a vast majority of students and jam bands. Last stop was the highlight of this evening, a sensational piece, played by gods capable of hypnotizing us and nailing us there, immobile, lost. Everything else flows with Pig, Can’stop, the always wonderful Crush, the cheerful Everyday, the amazing Ant’s Marching and the worthy closure with So right and Tripping Billies.
At the end of the concert Dave throws his pick and Butch approaches us and gives the kid with the crutch an autographed set list by him. Then it’s Carter’s turn, who throws his drumsticks, but chaos ensues. A girl gets hold of the drumstick but a brute attacks her and tears it from her by force…. Carter will be informed of this. This is why the next evening he will hand out several drumsticks one by one into the hands of the lucky ones he himself will call in front of the stage.
Setlist:
Intro
Don’t Drink the Water *
What Would You Say
Proudest Monkey * >
Satellite *
The Idea Of You *
You Might Die Trying *
Warehouse *
Sleep To Dream Her *
Smooth Rider *
Last Stop *
Pig *
Can't Stop
Crush *
Everyday *
Ants Marching *
Encore:
So Right *
Tripping Billies *
* Rashawn Ross on Trumpet
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