Why I love the critically reviled Dave Matthews Band

For me, my awareness of the group’s existence can be traced back as early as the mid-1990s, though the extent of my interest branched out only as far as the songs played incessantly on the radio.

From left, band members Stefan Lessard, LeRoi Moore, Boyd Tinsley, Carter Beauford and Dave Matthews in Chicago in 1995. Paul Natkin / WireImage / Getty Images
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My name is Ashley Lane and I’m a Dave Matthews Band fan.

Publicly admitting this to our readers takes a lot of gumption. You see, for all the chilled-out music and hugely entertaining performances the band offers, being a fan also comes with its fair share of ridicule. As a supporter of the group, I am lumped in with the insufferable ­Birkenstock-wearing, backwards baseball-cap-sporting fraternity “bros” and their female sorority counterparts. You should note that I never pledged a sorority at university. Admittedly, however, I do own a pair of Birkenstocks.

For me, my awareness of the group’s existence can be traced back as early as the mid-1990s, though the extent of my interest branched out only as far as the songs played incessantly on the radio. That all changed in high school. At the time, my social circle consisted partially of the cliché, hippy-dippy group that wore Jnco ripped jeans, tie-dyed shirts and waxed lyrical about the genius of Jerry Garcia and Trey Anastasio (it’s true, the band’s fan base does consist of smaller subgroups – those not entirely decked out in Abercrombie & Fitch). It was almost impossible not to follow the group by sheer proxy.

When I eventually attended my first DMB concert – at the Continental Airlines Arena in East Rutherford, New Jersey – during my senior year, my interest grew into something much more. From the very first note of The Stone to the fade out of the dance-inducing Two Step, I was sold – hook, line and sinker. Dave's dulcet yet edgy vocal range and nearly impossible to duplicate guitar chord progressions; Boyd's frantic, yet magical way with the electric violin; LeRoi's signature sax staccato jazz riffs – the result was a mix of quirky funk, rock and folk, all wrapped into one perfectly attuned package.

The fact that DMB has earned its place on numerous lists of most-hated bands still puzzles me. The author Prachi Gupta puts this down to the fan base of “suburban middle-class college kids”, despite the band oozing talent. And its possible that she has a point. It would be blind to not acknowledge that the group’s followers are heavily made up of the white middle class, and perhaps this is where some of the antagonism stems from. Yet it would be equally foolish to claim this was the band’s intentions – after all, three-fifths of the original members are African-American.

We DMB-ers take the hate in our stride, however. You will find us front and centre at the concert this Thursday. We will be the ones happily bobbing our heads and dancing – if that’s what you can call it – to a cool mix of rock, jazz and funk. And you can bet you’ll find me there in the crowd, Birkenstocks and all.

alane@thenational.ae