Slowly Going Bald

It's weird that LeRoi Moore is dead. I grew up listening to Dave Matthews Band, and though I didn't really enjoy 2005's Stand Up — and I long since lost track of the startling number of live albums the band put out — I still remember just absolutely loving the band in high school and into college. Dave Matthews Band was probably one of the first groups for which I learned every member's name (my dad made sure I knew the members of Cream by the time I was 14), and with that knowledge came a fashioned sense of their personalities. When I listened to their albums, I wasn't just hearing the music, I was hearing Carter Beauford blast on the drums, or Boyd Tinsley on a sweet violin solo, or Stefan Lessard's driving bass, or Dave Matthews' chunky guitar, or Moore's gorgeous horn. Every member of the band contributed to the songs, and something about the musical breadth and the lyrics that mixed generic yearning with sexual angst made the whole thing exactly what I needed when I was 16-17.

I saw the band in concert a couple times, too, though I haven't seen them live since the fall of 2000. I've moved on to other musical passions since then, both for specific bands and genres at large; I tend to hang my hat on alt-country, power pop, and a few other hooks nowadays. But I still own all my DMB albums, and I don't regret ever loving the band. I guess what I'm trying to say is that someone who helped make the music that got me through what I thought at the time were the darkest days I could experience is dead and gone, and in his absence I suddenly remember how much I used to love just driving around San Antonio with my arm dangling out the window, listening, feeling like if I just heard "The Stone" one more time, everything would make sense.

Here are some for old times' sake:

"#41":

"Recently":

"Rapunzel":