Crashing in the Groove Den

As the year winds down, I find myself doing what we all do this time of year—reflecting. It’s funny how life settles into these distinct chapters. Lorraine and I have been married 26 years now, and as empty nesters, we’ve found a great rhythm. She’s perfectly content to curl up with a book or a true crime podcast.

Me? I’ve never mastered the art of sitting still. If I’m on the couch for more than twenty minutes, I’m up and looking for a project. Maybe disappear in the garage and wipe down the Nomad for the 1,000th time? Luckily, we share a love for Carolina Hurricanes hockey, so many nights are spent cheering at the TV together. But on those off-nights when the ice is quiet, I retreat to my new sanctuary: The Groove Den.

The Den is where my restlessness finds a purpose. Lately, the turntable has been dominated by a Black Friday buy that took me straight back to the mid-90s: Dave Matthews Band’s Crash.

The thing about DMB is that for the longest time, they were the kings of the CD era. When I was a DJ, my shelves and center console of my truck were filled with those fat, multi-disc jewel cases. You haven't truly experienced this band until you’ve seen them live. Just crank up 'Live at Red Rocks' from August of 95 as an example. That album is a killer—it’s the gold standard for what a live band should be.

Other favorites include 'Before These Crowded Streets', the 'Central Park Concert', 'Big Whiskey' and all the other live trax discs, those CDs have been the soundtrack to my life throughout the 2000’s. But as I’ve gotten back into vinyl, the "hunt" has changed. Finding these releases on a 12-inch platter is like chasing a ghost; they are rare and they are expensive. I could order some new releases in The Warehouse, but I haven't gotten there yet. Since I’ve started shopping at the local record shops again, I have seen the new collectors edition of 'Crash', but it took a while to get over the sticker shock. One afternoon doing some holiday shopping at School Kids Records in Raleigh, I finally pulled the trigger as a pre-Christmas gift to myself…well I can talk myself into that, plus it felt like finally upgrading a piece of my own history.

That history goes all the way back to a staff all access pass scanned and saved from August of 1994, my first time seeing the band, it was at the old World’s Fair Park in Knoxville. I was working in rock radio, and we were the sponsors for the H.O.R.D.E. Festival. What an amazing concert. The Allman Brothers Band, Blues Traveler and DMB. Watching Dave, Boyd, and LeRoi that night was mind-blowing. It was an incredible 7 song set. Their use of jazz fusion resonated with me in a way I didn't expect; it harked back to my days as a smooth jazz DJ in Houston. It wasn't just rock; it was sophisticated, quirky, and technically brilliant.

That night started a lifelong love affair. I was fortunate enough to catch their next two Knoxville shows later that year and again in '96 as a headliner. This would be the last concert I saw in Knoxville before moving to Raleigh. I could do a whole post and story of the many nights at the Worlds Fair Park. So many shows! That's me sitting in the chair below with on air Program Director Jim Pemberton as he interviews young guitarist phenom Kenny Wayne Shepard.

I actually got to meet the Dave and the band that year. We did a listener contest and I walked away with a signed Crash promotional poster which holds a special place of honor in my collection. I started collecting posters about a decade ago, but this one is the crown jewel.

Crash poster signed by the original band, 1996

But the best part of being a fan is passing it on. Even recent interviews have Stefan talking about how wild it is to start seeing kids of fans now showing up 30 after those mid 90's concerts. In 2021 and 2022, I took my two teenage sons to their first DMB shows. We caught the first post-Covid, tour opening show together, which began with "#41"—one of my all-time favorites and a standout track from Crash. Seeing my boys experience that wall of sound for the first time made all those years of listening feel complete.

Listening to Crash now, sitting in the Den at sixty, it hits differently. "Tripping Billies" used to just be a party anthem, but now the line "Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die" feels like a mission statement for this stage of life.

So, while Lorraine solves her true crime mysteries downstairs, I’ll be in here—probably standing up, air-drumming to Carter Beauford, and appreciating the fact that some things, like a great marriage, a couple of grown sons, and a classic record, only get better with time.