Got more tunes than a beach got sand

Tanith L. Balaban Arizona Daily Wildcat Dave Matthews

They played the hell out of Sunday night. I mean they just played like crazy.

Yeah, I know Dave Matthews is more Paul Simon than Bob Dylan, and Dave Matthews is probably more Kenny Loggins than Paul Simon, but this show was Gestalt; it was greater than the sum of its two parts.

No, friends, this was not guitar wankdom. We're talking just knockdown, drag-out three hours of jamming. Enough to slap a smile on your face from the beginning to the end. Or if you are the Dean of Students, from the beginning until the middle. She was in our row. The first joint of the evening was shared a few rows in front of us. I thought that was funny.

So, anyhow, last things first.

They did not play "What Would you Say." They did play about the longest, strongest second set of any concert I've ever seen. Having covered much of the lately released Crash album in the first set, the two hit the highlights of DMB's other full-length albums.

"Minarets," "Seek Up," "I'll Back You Up" and a by-request "Christmas Song" were Dave at his best. Struggling to deal with grand themes of religion, materialism and love without relying on platitudes; the guy fails always but keeps trying. And always singing - Dave has quite a set of pipes on him. His face was always shifting from smile to grimace.

Tim Reynolds was as inexpressive as Dave was expressive, but - his guitar playing. He could keep up with the range of sounds coming from Dave's mouth, and he could play as fast as Eddie Van Halen. At one point, Dave took a breather and let Tim jam. Man, he was like the Mickey Hart of guitar. He made more sounds than I thought possible. He played all over my head. It was spacey and groovy and legit.

When they played "Ants Marching," a song about the daily grind and how everybody does it the same way, the audience sang along. And when I looked around, I saw all these people, who looked very much like me, singing along to a song about how they all act very much like me and each other. It was a celebration of conformity. It's kinda comforting, it's kinda like family values. Every hit he played, everybody in that room knew, and he played almost every hit. And that room didn't seem too big; it seemed intimate.

When Dave and Tim ran through "All Along the Watchtower" at record speed, with Dave laying on this thick fake Dylan voice, it was warm in the hall, like family. When Dave and Tim cheesed up the cheesy "Too Much" with a sprinkling of Bowie, the hall appreciated it.

When Dave and Tim played the Daniel Lanois tune "The Maker," the hall was silent. And after a tremendous run through "Warehouse" that began with Dave's soulful howls, the hall was satisfied. Absolutely full of smiles. Electrified.

Besides which, the whole deal was put together by the students at Rising Star Entertainment. Proof students actually do become involved and accomplish things. It kinda puts you at ease, like Dave was at ease, just a rock star. With the soft stage lighting shifting with the mood of the music, and candles burning up on stage, it was a flash back to a different time. It's all right.