LeRoi Moore

I've just heard the crushing news that Dave Matthews Band's saxophonist, LeRoi Moore, has died from his injuries sustained in late June from an ATV accident. I saw DMB just a few days later at Rothbury and in the presence of the great Jeff Coffin, brushed Roi's absence aside with the assumption that I'd see the band again at some point in the future, and he would be with them then. It was a sad moment, seeing that CNN Breaking News headline with Roi's name in it, and the shock has not yet worn off to allow the full effect of what we've lost to sink in.

Years ago, during high-school chemistry and the height of my crazed DMB fandom, a close friend and I lamented the release of Everyday as a sign to the band's imminent breakup. In the wake of the famed Lillywhite Sessions/The Summer So Far debacle of 1999-2001, our fears centered around Dave's obvious and well-publicized alcoholism and depression, which was all too painfully reflected in his songwriting. Over the years my devotion has mellowed, but my interest and love of Dave Matthews Band's music has not. I callously tease friends who have maintained their undying loyalty, but really I am jealous that I no longer feel as drawn to any music as I once did to Matthews'.

Roi was the epitome of a drummer's saxiphonist. If we're being completely honest, he was much more than a bass, baritone, tenor, alto, and soprano saxiphonist -- he also played the flute, pennywhistle, and bass clarinet. Partially through his own doing and partially through the mastery that is Carter Beauford's drumming, Roi developed an uncanny ability over the past seventeen years with DMB to write horn lines that were both appropriately melodic and subtly percussive, for example on "Stay (Wasting Time)" (Before These Crowded Streets, 1998). Even more percussive were his solos, with which Beauford was constantly artfully matching his syncopated hi-hat rhythms and off-beat snare hits, and which -- in true jazz tradition -- often playfully referenced other songs and solos.

I'd like to say that I'll make good on my self-assurance at Rothbury that I'll see DMB again, but now it will never be possible. No matter how many tours the band goes on or how many replacements they try to fit in, today is the day that Dave Matthews Band is no more, and it's something from which I do not feel at all ready to move on. I wish I had seen the band one week earlier, and what was briefly known as "the best tour since the fabled 2000" is now irreparably marred. As I write this, DMB has taken the stage at the Staples Center in Los Angeles and is honoring their friend, with Coffin filling his spot at stage right now indefinitely. The robust saxman, always shaded and smiling, an almost two-decade fixture on the Dave Matthews Band stage, has left in his wake an unfillable void. And while I'm sure his bandmates will toil for years to come to recreate the magic he brought to the studio and the stage, and fans will argue unceasingly as to whom might best replace the beloved Roi, DMB will never be the same again.

**UPDATE** (8/20/2008)
In honor of the late great LeRoi Moore, here are my Top 5 Roi Live and Studio Tracks from 1991 - 2008. They're all live and perfectly embody his soloing and line-writing styles.

Studio:
1. "#34" - Under The Table And Dreaming (1994)
2. "Spoon" - Before These Crowded Streets (1998)
3. "#41" - Crash (1996)
4+. "Kit Kat Jam," "Captain," "Raven," "Grey Street" - Busted Stuff (2002)
5. "Sweet Up And Down" - The Lillywhite Sessions/The Summer So Far (1999/2000)

Live:
1. "Stay (Wasting Time)" - Listener Supported (1999)
2. "Lie In Our Graves" - Live At Red Rocks 8.15.95 (1997)
3. "What Would You Say" - Live Trax Vol. 2 (2004/09/12 Golden Gate Park) (2004)
4. "So Much To Say" --> "Anyone Seen The Bridge" --> "Too Much" - The Central Park Concert (2003)
5. "Pantala Naga Pampa" --> "Rapunzel" - The Gorge (2004)

A Rothbury Recap - Part IV: Day 3

Having driven 804 miles across the country to a Ranch in northwest Michigan, I found myself completely separated from my ordinary routine. Yet on Saturday morning, I was transported back to my living room couch in Jersey City, New Jersey. I would have never imagined that Day 3 of Rothbury would find me propped in front of a TV, intently playing Guitar Hero. But that's just how Saturday began for me - at the Guitar Hero main stage with a crowd of about 20 others, awaiting my turn for a shot at winning some Guitar Hero: Aerosmith beer cozies and wristbands. We didn't have to wait long, as just a few minutes after arriving in front of the giant Guitar Hero RV I got my chance to play the Black Crowes' "Hard to Handle" against some stiff competition. Following a magnificent performance in which I won, of course, (otherwise I wouldn't be writing about it) and given our utter exhaustion following Friday's festivities, we decided to continue the day by taking it easy in the shade inside of the venue.

The Secret Machines were playing at the Ranch Arena, and we sat off to the side on the lush grass in the shade and allowed the music to provide a background for our relaxation. Their first songs flowed nicely as the early afternoon sun rose in the sky, and as it got harsher, so did their music. They were misfits, like Of Montreal, but their droning guitars and hard indie sound weren’t nearly as pleasant to hear after the novelty wore off. So we retired to a more appropriate shelter from the sun: Big Wildcat Lake.

"Big Wildcat Lake" is quite a misnomer; a more appropriate name might be "Muckbottom Lake" or "Filthwater Pond," but the dock and sand felt good in comparison to the hard ground and trampled grass that we were used to. From the lakeside, we could hear Sweet Japonic playing at the Wagon Wheel, one of Rothbury's only indoor venues (actually a log cabin). Their Allman Brothers sound was perfect for a hot day by the lake, and we sat listening and people watching for a couple of hours. Looking around me, I noticed in particular how many families I saw in the water. There were mothers and fathers on the docks and children doggie-paddling their way through the muck. And it wasn’t just down by the lake. Families sat together in the forest and at the venues. Children played together in the shade with their parents keeping one lax eye on them and another on the stage. Overall, I was stunned at how many young children were at the festival. Rather than judging their parents as irresponsible for exposing them to such a subversive culture so early in life, I found myself admiring their parents’ courage in showing their children how happy people can really come together when they rally around a cause, be it music or environmentalism. Rothbury was a land of imagination, of vivid colors, of men on stilts and women with painted-on clothing, and of strangers being regarded as close friends rather than dangerous kidnappers. For adults and kids alike, the atmosphere was a positive one that is unmatched in the world outside.

Our day continued with some concert hopping: a little Gomez here (an initially boring set that turned into something that I regretted having to leave), some Dresden Dolls there (playing to a small crowd has its benefits -- their energy was astounding for a duo and kept everyone on their feet and cheering), and finally to The Odeum to see Citizen Cope. Cope was hyped as one of the big names of the festival, but his performance had very little production value and wasn't all that attention grabbing. His music is distinctly derived from hip-hop, yet the live show lacked the punchy drums, heavy bass, and sampling (especially on tunes like “Let the Drummer Kick,” which lacked all of its originality) that make the Cope albums so unique and genre nonspecific. All that remained were his irritatingly monotone vocals and a four piece band that struggled to retain the attention of those in the crowd that were not die-hard Cope fans.

Luckily, one bad show does not define a day, or even an hour, at a festival. From Citizen Cope we returned to Sherwood Court to see Medeski Martin & Wood sitting in a tight triangle. How they stay on beat or in the same ever shifting keys is beyond me, but watching them communicate telepathically on stage, treating the vast field as if it were the Village Vanguard or the Blue Note, was far beyond my musical comprehension. Jazz is one thing, and complex enough as it is, but the type of fusion that MMW play is above and beyond the classification of "jazz" or "fusion" and fits into an unnamable category all its own. After they were done blowing my mind, it was Derek Trucks' turn to take the stage with jazz singer Susan Tedeschi behind the mic.

Trucks, a sometimes-member of the Allman Brothers Band (starting officially at age 20, though he had toured extensively with them even before that), is a master of the slide guitar, and his decades of experience even at a young age shine through in every album and every performance. Hazy and exhausted, we laid down on the dusty, hard ground at Sherwood Court, which had been decimated by thousands of dancing feet during the first two days, and were lulled into a shallow sleep in the evening sun. When we awoke, Trucks and Tedeschi were just winding down the set, but I could hear his versatile slide emulating her voice to perfection. I wish that his guitar had been a little louder in the mix, but what I could hear was exactly what I expected. Though I regretted missing any of the set, the nap was much needed. Our night was just beginning.

Dave Matthews Band, a group that I have seen fifteen times now, came onstage with the setting sun at 9:00pm (the sun doesn't finish setting until 10:30pm in Rothbury) and kicked the show off right, with their epic "Seek Up." Guitarist Tim Reynolds is on this tour with them, taking the place of absent keyboardist Butch Taylor, and he served his role well at first. His riffs were short and attention grabbing, but didn't become distracting until much later. During "So Damn Lucky," the anthem by Dave Matthews & Friends (of 2003), Reynolds was given a bombastic solo that encompassed the theme of the evening: over production. Just as their latest two or three studio albums have been far too produced, this show was made into such a noisy and brightly lit spectacle that it took away from the music. The jams were sometimes perfect, as in the highlight of the show, "#41," when substitute saxophonist Jeff Coffin (of Béla Fleck and the Flecktones fame) soloed for at least ten minutes, dancing his soprano and tenor saxes between rhythms and notes, and even directing the rest of the band with him into a cover of a Fleck tune. The band benefited from his soloing, but greatly missed member LeRoi Moore's written lines, which were uncomfortably delivered by his emergency fill-in. Similarly, Taylor’s jazz influence was greatly missed during jams, but his overfilling organ was a welcome subtraction from the rest of the mix. Dave's energy and wit, now cornerstones of the DMB experience, kept the mood light, as demonstrated by his mid-set quip that after the show he planned to sit in the hammocks in Sherwood Forest and "try to touch the moon with my tongue."

The only way to spend Saturday night at a festival, prior to touching celestial bodies with your tongue, is to experience a blowout four-hour set from Sound Tribe Sector 9 (STS9). At midnight, lasers and laptops blazing, they stepped in front of the eager, dance-ready crowd. STS9 is a powerhouse band -- not just because of their five immensely talented members and carefully crafted songs (which often have upwards of four revolving parts) -- but because each member also runs his own samples through a laptop or, as with the drums, a trigger system. Just like Thievery Corporation the night before, STS9 seamlessly blended many different genres from across the globe with American hip-hop, funk, and rock styles (and even some British trip-hop) to create the most danceable music I've ever heard. On top of the music, the show's lightshow and glowstick wars created a visually stunning effect unlike anything I've ever witnessed. Seeing hundreds of thousands of glowsticks fly through the air every time a song changed was like the most head-turning, eye-popping iTunes visualizer imaginable. The party raged on until the wee hours, and at about 2:45, after well over twelve hours of music that day, we headed to bed.

With similarly captivating artists A3 and Crystal Method playing just across the forest, though, STS9 had a constant flow of 40,000 Rothbury attendees at their mercy until 4:00am, when they finally capped their set and sent the exhausted masses back into the forest (only some went back to their tents) for a brief sleep before Rothbury's last day.

Tomorrow - Part V: Day 4!

A Rothbury Recap - Part I: The Mission

"Rothbury is committed to harnessing the spirit of the music festival community into a durable social movement. Rothbury is created by people who are passionate about music, and about live music in particular. We are captivated by the unique experience that a perfect musical moment offers; when we transcend beyond individuals and into a collective. It's a connectedness that invites palpable inspiration and real opportunity to create a lasting change. This is the Rothbury mission."

A twelve-hour car ride from DC, through Maryland, West Virgina, Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Michigan, including a 9-hour-plus chronological discography of The Beatles (a la the trip to Bonnaroo 2007), thunderstorms, fireworks, coffee, and Cheez-its...

Thus began a journey to the Double JJ Ranch in Rothbury, Michigan. In its inaugural year, the Rothbury Festival 2008 set out to improve upon the modern festival's massive environmental impact and, even further, on the festivalgoers’ overall consciousness of our collective and individual environmental footprints. Rothbury’s goal to "throw a HUGE party...with a purpose" showed through in every aspect – from the hundreds of composting and recycling bins, to the sugarcane and corn-based cutlery (compostable), to the pocket ash trays, to the use of clean energy and carbon-offsetting, to the daily Think Tanks with popular artists...You can find the entire extensive and impressive commitment here: http://rothburyfestival.com/festival/our_commitment.php

Thousands of tons of garbage and millions of tons of cigarette butts are generated each year at Bonnaroo, Lollapalooza, et al., and given the current hot-button issues of climate change/global warming/overall planetary destruction via human ignorance and ineptitude, Rothbury attempted something truly valiant: get a bunch of people together who talk the talk, and get them to walk the walk.

Despite the environmentally sound premise, Rothbury was a party and festival first, and a forum for social change second. For four days in early July, upwards of 50,000 people from all 50 states met on Michigan's west coast and partied hard. Drugs were overabundant, beer and liquor flowed from dawn to well beyond dusk, and glow sticks littered the air and ground in the hundreds of thousands. (I'll get to the music in due time – see Parts II – V, soon to come, for day-by-day breakdowns.)

Producer Jeremy Stein and Madison House worked hard to follow through on their promises of eco-consciousness and thoughtful celebration, and people seemed willing to comply at least with the simplest aspects of enviro-friendliness. Listening to artists speak during Think Tanks, properly disposing of waste in compost and recycling cans, and making do with the mere one napkin that came with each food purchase came easily to the masses. But cigarette-butts, used glowsticks, and Nitrous Oxide balloon waste were rampant in the campgrounds and the venues.

I was surprised to see how easily people made small adjustments, but also how difficult it was for us to stop our own self-destructive behaviors at the behest of our environment. I'm not sure that there's a remedy for the Nitrous balloon problem (other than...not inhaling Nitrous from balloons or even (GASP) throwing them away after using them?), but the aforementioned ash trays were not as accessible as they could have been. If the festival provides an ashtray to every participant upon entering the site next year, that will be one less thing – or, rather, thousands fewer things -- they'll have to clean up.

For a first-year festival, the organizers did well to provide enough shade (via "Sherwood Forest" and tents scattered across the site) and interactive elements (creating "recycled" artwork over the course of the four days, providing batting cages and other sports, having a Guitar Hero RV...the list could go on for days) to keep the entertainment-hungry crowd more than occupied. Between six stages (and one secret stage in the forest), hundreds of organic food and clothing shops, and spinning monkeys (you'll have to attend next year to figure that one out), even the most weathered and cynical festivalgoer was entertained and swept up in the Rothbury moment.

I hardly consider myself a wily veteran when it comes to music festivals. This was my second, and almost certainly not my last. The "come as you are" and "love everyone as you love yourself" vibe was spiritually infectious, to the point of non-drug-induced euphoria. I only hope that Stein manages to keep the same feel for next year's festival (which is confirmed in the planning stages as of today). Rothbury is undoubtedly a new institution in American music festivals, and it has improved on key components that other festivals lack: fantastic weather, environmental sustainability, and four days of non-stop, mindblowing music.

Tomorrow -- Part II: Day 1