CheekyChicago

There is a notion in the creative world – that one cannot create something beautiful without first being in pain. I don’t know if that’s necessarily true, but if it is, Dave Matthews Band certainly uses it to their advantage. Their seventh studio album, Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King, is a tribute to founding member and saxophonist LeRoi Moore, who passed away last August due to complications from injuries in an ATV accident.

The opening track, “Grux” – Moore’s nickname in the band – is fitting as Moore’s saxophone rings out amongst the instruments of the other band members. It showcases how talented he was – and in a song that lasts a little over a minute, it makes one wonder what more he could have offered. It is a great opener to a great album.

On the whole, this release is a little edgier than previous releases, which could be due in part to a new producer (Rob Cavallo of My Chemical Romance) – or it could be the process of being driven by loss. All of the musicians – violinist Boyd Tinsley, drummer Carter Beauford, bassist Stefan Lessard and, of course, singer/guitarist Dave Matthews – pour their emotions into the music, especially in songs “Shake Me Like A Monkey” and “Funny The Way It Is” (which both recall the energy and jam band experience of “Stay”) and the darker, cathartic “Time Bomb.” The latter starts out quietly and, as the name suggests, blows up toward the end of the song. Matthews screams over frantic instrumentation, “Baby when I get home / I wanna pick up the pieces / Hammer in the final nail / And lean me up against Jesus.”

For his part as lyricist, Matthews obviously spares no emotion. If he feels it, he writes it. This means that the listener is right there, front and center, for the entire process. Some of this results in the cutesy, somewhat sexually driven lines Matthews has etched out before: “Wanna pack your bags / Something small / Take what you need and we disappear / Without a trace we’ll be gone /…We’re gonna take a boat to the end of the world.” (“You and Me”); and “I got it right, woman / As I caught your eye / I remember most about that night / As I loved the way you moved.” (“Spaceman”). Others are directly influenced by the loss of Moore, which raises questions: “Why should I feel intrusion? / Why be afraid of what we do not understand?” (“Squirm”).

Maybe grief really does lend a hand to the creative process. It’s both heartbreaking and heartwarming – Big Whiskey… is not only a perfect sendoff to a talented musician, but a way for the remaining members of DMB to make sense of tragedy. And as the last 20 seconds of the album are filled once again by Moore’s saxophone, there is a feeling that even with sadness and loss, there is hope through remembrance.