Boston Herald
Dave Matthews was never a power chord guy.
His idiosyncratic, lithe acoustic picking and plucking has long helped define his band’s sound. But on “Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King” - DMB’s first studio release in four years and first without saxophonist LeRoi Moore, who died early in the album’s recording - Dave often swaps his acoustic for some electricity.
The move finally makes sense.
DMB - which plays Fenway Park tonight and tomorrow in advance of Tuesday’s “Big Whiskey” release - has struggled and mostly failed for a decade to get a big rock sound without subjugating the gentle intimacy that makes the band distinctive. First the jam giants got big and slick on 2001’s “Everyday” with producer Glen Ballard (Alanis Morissette, lame ’90s Aerosmith); then they got big and slick and lifeless on 2005’s “Stand Up” with producer Mark Batson (Seal, Eminem). Now uber-producer Rob Cavallo (Green Day, Kid Rock) tries his hand.
And the third time’s a charm. Cavallo balances airy acoustics and grounded electric power by plugging Dave in when it makes sense (the chunky rocker “Why I Am,” furious screamer “Time Bomb”) and letting him be himself elsewhere. Fans who love the band for its minor key, Middle Eastern rhythms and grungy jazz tunes will be happier than they’ve been in years.
Cavallo gets credit for pulling off what others couldn’t - electric guitar and Earth Wind & Fire horns in “Shake Me Like a Monkey.” Nice! But DMB deserves the praise for finally pushing back against a producer to create necessary artistic tension.
Moore’s saxophone is scattered across the album, from the Charles Neville-inspired opener “Grux” to the secret cut that closes “Big Whiskey.” But it’s not his playing but his death that focuses the band.
Like the acoustic/electric harmony, there’s a balance of playful tribute and sentimentality. And while lightweight philosophizing is Dave’s chief lyrical sin (“Funny the way it is/If you think about it/Somebody’s going hungry and someone else is eating out”), when matched with his fond memories for Moore in “Why I Am,” he sounds honest - and powerful.
Death can force a guy to grow. So can a good producer. “Big Whiskey” is proof.
Rating: B
