The first Dave Matthews Band concert in Dallas in two years would already sound different than any that had come before it. For the first time since 1992, the popular jam-band founded in Charlottesville, Virginia, in 1991, began a national tour without its violinist Boyd Tinsley, who announced in February he would not tour with the band this year to "focus on my family and my health."
This show was sure to feature new songs from the upcoming Come Tomorrow record, the group's first LP in seven years. Those new songs, combined with fresh, Tinsley-less arrangements for old fan favorites, were bound to be interesting for longtime fans.
But with the disturbing news of a lawsuit filed against Tinsley on Thursday, May 17, the day before the band would begin its tour in Houston, the eagerly-awaited date took on a different feel. The lawsuit was filed by James Frost-Winn, the trumpet player in Crystal Garden, a band Tinsley had formed and produced since 2015, and accuses Tinsley of sexual harassment and sexual assault in a disturbing series of events over several years.
On Thursday night, hours after the allegations had been made public, a Dave Matthews Band rep issued a statement to Rolling Stone stating that Tinsley "is no longer a member of the band" and that the group had no prior knowledge of the accusations. Earlier in the week, only three days before the lawsuit bombshell, Matthews himself addressed Tinsley's status in the band in an interview with Vulture, saying "I can't say, 'I can't wait till he comes back,' because I don't know what's going to happen. But right now being away is better for him. Nobody is happy about this situation. Except that we're happy he can figure some stuff out. I hope he does."
The news was a lot to take in for longtime DMB fans, some who probably hoped to swig overpriced beer and hippie-twirl dance to "Tripping Billies." But anyone with a conscience needs to examine the nuances of this troubling timeline.
And, to be clear, I'm one of those longtime DMB fans.
Saturday night's Dos Equis Pavilion concert was my ninth Dave Matthews show since I became enamored of the band after seeing them perform at the '96 H.O.R.D.E. Festival on an auto drag strip in Ennis. Over the years, many critics and journalists have used Matthews as an easy target to represent their distaste for radio-friendly rock and its throng of rowdy followers. Not me.
If the #MeToo movement has taught us anything above the need for all people to treat one another, regardless of sex and status, with decency and respect, it should be that the pedestals an adoring public builds for its idols are often crafted blindly.
According to the original reporting on the lawsuit by Consequence of Sound, Tinsley announced his decision to take a break from the band on the same day he was notified of Frost-Winn's claims. Beyond Tinsley's statement on that February day, there wasn't any official announcement from the group that the violinist had been fired. That didn't happen until Thursday night after the allegations were made public, over three months later. In that Vulture interview, Matthews certainly acknowledged, albeit obtusely, that Tinsley needed the time away in order to better himself. And he said so while confessing uncertainty about Tinsley's future in the band, which is vastly different than the absolute nature the band rep offered Rolling Stone by saying Tinsley "is no longer a member."
Some of the odder accusations from Frost-Winn even occurred while he was actually on tour with the Dave Matthews Band. This isn't a scenario where one member was displaying a dark side when away from his longtime bandmates.
And if the news came out weeks or months before the group came to Dallas, fans like me might have more fully formed feelings. But the shrapnel from this blast was still being extracted and by the time the group began its second show of its 2018 tour.
Photos of Dave Matthews Band's concert in Dallas, without Boyd Tinsley
Band members didn't mention Tinsley during the set, which lasted more than two hours. The individual band members, Matthews included, seemed to be in high spirits, even. And it was odd not seeing the muscular, dread-locked violinist gyrate and freak out during his energetic solos. But more uncomfortable were the questions in my own head about whether I was supposed to be there, cheering the group along.
In recent months, local foodies have had to negotiate their feelings over whether to visit award-winning chef Paul Qui's first Dallas-area restaurant in the wake of his 2016 arrest for allegedly beating his girlfriend in front of her child. Many Dallas Cowboys fans will continue to grapple with conscientiousness and loyalty when it comes to star running back Ezekiel Elliot, who was suspended for six games during the 2017 season following an investigation into his own history of alleged domestic violence.
When is a taco shop just a taco shop? When is a touchdown just that, not an endorsement of despicable behavior? As for Saturday night, when is singing along to a song you've liked for two decades just living in the moment?
I don't have that answer. Each time Matthews would speak into the microphone, I anxiously wondered if he would address his former bandmate's troubles. He didn't.
When the group kicked into classic cuts including "The Best of What's Around" and "Warehouse," both from 1994, a rush of joyous nostalgia forced my arms into the air. Big beats gave the already dark "Don't Drink the Water" a harder rock edge than I remembered. And "She," a new, bass-heavy funk-rocker, played in concert for the first time ever was particularly thrilling.
It's one thing to not see Tinsley on stage during a DMB show, but it's another entirely to not hear him playing. Tinsley's violin could be considered the group's defining sonic trait: Giving a violin such command over a large section of a rock band's catalog is an anomaly -- and has long made the group immediately identifiable.
Near the end of the night, Matthews introduced the individual members of the group to the Dallas audience. Everyone was there except Tinsley. Again, no mention. Then, the instantly detectable intro riff to "Ants Marching" -- arguably the group's most beloved song and unquestionably a song that Tinsley and his violin parts owned -- was sent soaring not from a violin but from guitarist Tim Reynold's Gibson Flying V guitar. Later in the song, when Tinsley's violin would usually reign, players took turns showcasing his own version of the violin solo parts from the past.
It was a cool interpretation on the standard offering, but playing that song in that way, after the individual players were introduced, spoke volumes. Maybe this was Matthews' way of asserting his group's new identity and addressing the elephant in the amphitheater? The problem, for me at least, is I don't know what it all really means.
