After a few days of pondering my next rant to you, the Gentle Reader, I decided that I would stop thinking about it and it would hit me. Sure enough it did, right as I was falling asleep last night. So with out further delay:
Every year I make my "pilgrimage" to one of two music cathedrals known as Virginia Beach amphitheater or Pittsburgh's Starlake amphitheater to worship the music gods. My music mass is lead by the Dave Matthews Band (from here on out referred to as "DMB"). Now I was a late bloomer to the DMB band wagon, I first saw them in 2002, and that was a last minute decision. I woke up one morning and said, "Hey DMB tickets go on sale today, I guess I'll buy some." I went to the show not really knowing any songs, other than the ones on the radio, and only knowing one band members name, the obvious one. I walked out of the show like a drug addict. I was addicted to the music, the words, the talent, and the chemistry that the band has with each other.
So like any good college boy, 'cause that's what I am now, I decided to do some research on this band, I won't bore you with the details, but I found quite a bit. One thing that has stood out was an article that was written by someone I don't know, in a magazine (Which is every magazine...) (Only CJ will get that reference, I'm sure.)) that I can't remember, and it said something like, "The frat boys have their Grateful Dead." Now at the time it didn't bother me, but as I kept feeding my addiction, it grew to bother me. I now own every studio album except one, and I don't own most of the concert albums, because, for the most part, each concert is the "same" but I have a couple of those.
I don't claim to be a musical expert, but I have a deeper appreciation than many people I meet, and I actually take time to sit down and read DMB's lyrics, which are actually very deep, for lack of a better word. Then you have these kegger hand stand frat boys that have no appreciation, who come to my musical mass and hoot and holler when there is a drinking or pot reference in the music, or they're getting too drunk to even remember the show. Then they roam around the parking lot, post concert, yelling, because when your drunk everything you say is very "intelligent", so you have to make sure all the people hear you. I actually left one show in Pittsburgh to find two fraties answering natures call on the sides of my truck. I asked them if they where marking their territory and they said "no", and said something about the Virginia plates and the NASCAR sticker on my truck. To which I replied by hitting the panic button on the remote from my pocket and they just looked at me stupidly. It drives me absolutely bonkers (I always wanted to use that word) that I have this deep love of the music and the talent and the poetry of the DMB and these fratties have to show up and put a damper on my "high" after the show, by hanging out the car windows and yelling to "see some titties!" OK that part I don't mind, because I enjoy a good pair of boobs exposed to the elements as the next guy.
However, even with all this, I will continue to buy tickets, make my pilgrimage, listen to all the CD's for a month after the show, and attempt to learn the songs on my own, with my guitar in hand...but that's another rant.