Dave Matthews
airdate September 14, 2009
South African singer-songwriter-guitarist Dave Matthews is best known as the frontman for one of the most successful touring bands in history. He won a Grammy for his first solo release, but still records and tours with the band he formed in Virginia in the early '90s. Matthews is also a principal of ATO Records and an occasional actor, having appeared in several features. He's very active in charity work, including the band's Bama Works Fund. The group's latest release is "Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King."

DMB frontman comments on how losing an integral bandmate changes the group. (2:31)

Full interview. (23:15)
Dave Matthews
Tavis: Tonight I'm pleased to have Dave Matthews on this program, the front man for the band that bears his name. He's been a popular force in music since the Dave Matthews Band formed nearly 20 years ago. The latest project is called "Big Whiskey and the Groogrux King --" say that fast three times. (Laughter.)
Dave Matthews: You did very well.
Tavis: Dedicated to the band's late, great sax player, LeRoi Moore, and the people of New Orleans. From the new CD, here is some of the video for "Why I Am."
Matthews: Why I am unlikely to agree, why I am climbing out on my monkey tree. Why I am still here, dancing with the Groogrux King, we'll be drinking big whiskey while we dance and sing. When my story ends, it's gonna end with him. Heaven or hell, I'm going there with the Groogrux King. Why I am the apple of your pretty eye, why I am the sting in the woodpile. Why I am.
Tavis: Dave, nice to meet you.
Matthews: Very great to meet you, finally.
Tavis: I'm glad to have you on this program, finally.
Matthews: Yeah, I know -- I've been trying to get on here for a while and I know we've been almost getting to each other.
Tavis: Yeah, a couple times our paths almost crossed. It's actually a great way to start our conversation. The first time our paths crossed I was -- this was a couple of years ago -- in New York, eating at a restaurant, sitting outside a restaurant that I like in Midtown, and I'm sitting there eating and I look up, and you and one of your bandmates were just casually walking by, walking down the street, and I about spit my food out.
I'm like, "There's Dave Matthews." Just walking. So I almost jumped up and jumped on you walking down the street, but I'm glad I didn't.
Matthews: Well, if I had seen you I would have jumped on -- I would have -- well, I don't know about jumped on you, but I would -- I might have. (Laughter.) But I would have been excited. I'm a big fan.
Tavis: I was excited just to see you walk down the street, a big fan of your work. So I'm glad you're here, number one.
Matthews: Well, thank you.
Tavis: The second time our paths almost crossed, you were actually booked -- after seeing you on the street that day in New York you were actually booked on our program a while ago and literally, the day that you were booked to come on you lost your bandmate who this album is, in part, dedicated to. So we almost met then, but obviously his passing has a lot to do with this project.
Matthews: Yeah, I think -- it was interesting. We were halfway through it. We'd written a lot of the music and sort of had the spirit of the album created, but we really didn't -- it was coming together so you didn't know exactly how it was going to -- we were bringing into focus. And then he was injured, and then some months later died from the injuries on an ATV on his farm in Virginia.
And it was devastating for us because we'd been together for almost 20 years, and had been friends for more than that. But it did bring a focus to what we were doing. We had to make a decision that day, actually, when I was going to be here.
We had a show that night here in L.A., whether we were going to play the show or not. And Carter and I decided right then that we should play the show, because that was sort of a -- it was our first choice, I think, in a series of right choices, or healing choices, was to mourn him doing what we did with him rather than mourn him by stopping.
And then the album, I think its focus came because of all the things we'd learned from him and all the time we'd had with him, both good and bad. He was a tough friend, but I'm grateful to have known him and I think the result is shown -- it shows there.
Tavis: Two follow-ups on that. One, how does losing someone so integral to the band, the sound of the band, how does that change the band in the months and years that follow?
Matthews: I suppose being together for so long, you have both positive and negative things that you grow in a relationship. And you try and nourish the things that are good in your relationship, and it so happens that at that point when he was injured, we were, in a way, in one of the best places that the band had ever been in.
And so I think, though you don't want to say this, in a way, that was fortunate. Not that he had the accident but that we were in a great place, so that it didn't leave a blanket of negative over us but it cast a light on us, his music, and what he did. But I guess what became more profound, pertinent in the band was his -- was the things he talked about musically, and that was, I guess, the honesty.
And he was always talking about these things, even when I wanted to choke him. He'd come out of this dark place and say, "You've got to be honest," and so remember those jewels of our friendship, although it was a difficult one, those great things -- it's as if all the bad things in a relationship -- I guess this often happens -- turn to dust, and the wisdom and all that that he left us really stayed and was a motivator.
I miss him and still there'll be moments when we're on stage when I can -- when I -- you swear I feel him in the room. There'll be a moment when I'm turning and expect -- and I imagine that will become less and less -- but I turn and expect to see him there because it's so ingrained in my mind.
And so I think the best thing we can do, in a way -- there's many ways to react -- is to honor him by carrying on with as much depraved abandon as he would permit.
Tavis: I lost a dear friend here recently, we talked about it on this program -- a long-time producer, 42 years of age, dies to breast cancer. So I've been, over the summer, dealing with these same kinds of emotions. You've been losing a dear friend who's in your life every single day. You said something a moment ago that got my attention, though, and I think I get it but I want to make sure I get some clarity here. You referred to him -- and I'll move on to some other stuff -- you referred to LeRoi as a "tough friend." That was your phrase -- a "tough friend." Is that like tough love? What'd you mean by that?
Matthews: It's interesting, because I'm not easy, I know that, but he was a very tortured soul. But also, not only was he tortured and sometimes angry and sometimes just infuriating and repulsive, but because he was tortured by things in his -- whatever it was in his life, by frustration, by maybe the same things that I -- that we're all frustrated by, not being able to say or get your ideas across, or not feeling the freedom that you want when you want it -- all the things that may hold us back.
Seeing whatever it is -- like he was frustrated by things, and he would take it out on himself and take it out on his friends. But also inside that was someone that would tell you things or come -- or at moments would be so generous and so kind, the way he was with his music.
When he put the horn in his mouth, it was genuine and he was searching and you could hear it because it was never the same thing. He was always looking for something else.
And so I fell first in love with him as a musician, listening to him play. And that blew my mind. And then meeting -- right from the beginning he was that same person. "Hey, Dave, how's it going?" Right away, he treated me like a peer, like a -- genuinely treated me, made me feel like a man. He didn't come in and there's the bartender, forget about the bartender.
He'd walk in like, "Hey, Dave, how's it going?" At the same time, he could walk in and say, "Get away from me." He was two people at one time, so that's what I mean -- that I loved him, deeply loved him, and also he could walk into a room and just destroy how you felt. But he could walk into the room (laughter) and he could come in and he'd be like -- tell a joke or say something joyful and everybody would just -- right away would just lift everyone's spirits up.
And that's what I mean. You remember people often and you sort of honor them. We tend often to say all the great and wonderful things they did. But I think if he were alive now and he heard me talking about him and talking about all the shiny, good-looking bits and I didn't talk about the fact that to many people and to me quite often he was someone that I wanted to choke if I had that in my (laughter) (unintelligible) he would be disappointed, because he didn't suffer to be a fluffy bunny.
Tavis: Yeah. I want to move on now. When you said -- when I asked you about what you meant by referring to him as a tough friend, your first response was okay, I know I can be tough. Now, what'd you mean by that? And I want to explore this because we love you when you're on stage; I'm trying to figure out whether or not we'd want to spend time hanging out, working with Dave Matthews. What did you mean when you say you're tough?
Matthews: I think we're all in different ways, I think I need -- I mean it may be tougher for my friends to figure out where I'm going, because I tend to walk into a room and just be a fairly positive person. But that can be difficult when you're trying to get something done.
I have more of the fluffy bunny syndrome than my friend LeRoi did, and he'd be, like -- he'd come into a room and he'd have something to say, I'd say, "Everything's good." And he'd be like -- (laughter) "I'm going to kill this." I could see it in his face, man.
He used to call me a chameleon. That was one of the things he said. Because he'd be next to me and we'd both be in a place like this, and someone else would walk in the room and he'd just -- he said I could just go (makes noise) and I could turn into somebody else, in a sense.
I don't notice it, but he used to tell me he envies it a bit. He said, "You're a chameleon." I didn't know if it was an insult or not (laughter) when he said it. I took it as sort of dishonest, but I don't mean to be that way. I tend to try and take the easiest route -- not that I end up doing it, but I tend to -- if I want to get over there I'll tend to go straight to it, but if there's a fire over there and there's a comfortable chair over there and I can get there a roundabout way, I'll do it that way rather than trying to jump over the fire. I don't know if that makes any sense.
Tavis: Would you say that you are a chameleon musically or have you found your niche and you feel comfortable staying in it?
Matthews: No, I hope -- I'm not sure. Sometimes I get -- I've heard people say they don't have an identity or the band doesn't know what they want to be, and I kind of like that a little bit because I love music and as a writer, I'm -- and I don't know if I succeed or not. It's hard to be objective when you're looking from this side. I suppose someone else can be.
I try and find something different, I try and change. I'm going to be trapped inside my own mind, in a way, but I try and look for something that will sound -- that will be new for me to play. Not like another version of the same thing. So I hope that I'm a chameleon. I hope that, to a point.
Tavis: When -- and I've seen these same critiques -- when critics say that the band doesn't know what it wants to be, the band doesn't know who it wants to be, you said earlier that you don't mind that, you're not particularly troubled by that.
I guess the question is how does a band that doesn't know what it is or what it wants to be when it grows up find such a massive loyal following?
Matthews: I'm not sure, but maybe the fact --
Tavis: So your fans are lost, too?
Matthews: Yeah, they're lost, too.
Tavis: We're all lost?
Matthews: Yeah. I think that one of the things that says someone like -- say someone like Marvin Gaye, or maybe someone like Cat Stevens -- Yusuf Islam is his name now. I think one of the things about -- and not them alone; not only them. Bob Marley, I think; John Lennon. One of the things that appeals about their music is that they sound like they're searching for something. Not always, but there's a quality of, like, where do I go from here.
And I think that that -- maybe that appeals to people, but also the band is pretty open for when we perform. I'm sure there are fans that would like us to be more open, but we try and keep a freshness about what we're doing and so things -- some things will be unexpected and hopefully there'll be surprises for us, to keep us interested, and I think that, as well as surprises for the audience.
They don't know, necessarily, what to expect when they come to a show, but only that we're committed to doing -- giving the very best that we have to give. And I think that's something I think that people sense is that we're not pretending. At least I hope people don't get that impression, because I know that we give everything we have when we're performing. We don't go through the steps.
Tavis: I'm going to out you right quick here on national television. When you sat down in the chair we had a chance to chat. We started the show, and as we typically do with musical guests we played a clip of you guys live in London for that particular concert. And you leaned over to me -- or Dave leaned over to me and said to me, "Tavis, maybe one day I'm going to learn to sing in key." Those were your words, not mine, that maybe one day you'll learn to sing in key.
Talk to me about that. How can you hear yourself and say, "I'm learning how to sing in key," and then justify all these records that you guys are selling and all these stadiums that are sold out around the world. And you, by your own admission, say, "I'm learning how to sing in key."
Matthews: Yeah, I don't know. It's hard -- in the studio very often I'll hear my voice back and I'll say, "Ooh, that sounds pretty good." (Laughter.) Or awful, but they can always quickly -- if I say, "I don't want to ever hear that again," someone will mute it.
But live, when I'm doing it, I feel like this is going pretty well but then when I hear it back, quite often I'm like ooh, boy. (Laughter.) I'm just -- I live -- I live either -- well, I don't know why I can't decide just to go in tune. Why I always have to --
Tavis: Either over or under?
Matthews: I live just a little sharp or a little flat. That's just my comfort zone -- out of tune. (Laughter.) And it's just infuriating.
Tavis: Can I quote you on that?
Matthews: Yeah.
Tavis: Dave Matthews says, "My comfort zone is out of tune."
Matthews: And I don't want it to be, but obviously it is. I'm hearing something different. Somebody could probably give me a lesson on it.
Tavis: Does that -- apparently it doesn't matter to the audience when you're doing a show. It's back to your earlier point -- what they're hearing is, to your phrase, good music. They're hearing and seeing your authenticity, you guys are having a good time, you're not pretending, and I guess that doesn't matter to the fans.
Matthews: Yeah, and maybe I'm a little more critical than they are. But I don't want to be sure about that, but something about -- I don't know, maybe in my head I hear this great, big, powerful voice when I'm singing, and then when I hear it it sounds more like the Lollipop Guild. (Laughter.) And I'm representing when I hear it recorded. I'm like, "Oh, no, that's not really what --" I remember as a kid, you know the little tape decks?
I remember saying -- the first time, I was shocked. Why I chose music, I have no idea, but I remember being a little kid and recording my voice -- "Hello? Hello? Hello?" (makes noise) "Hello? Hello? Hello?" "What is that?" Hearing my voice back and going, "Oh, my goodness."
Tavis: I remember that moment, yeah. (Laughter.) I hated the way I sounded when I was (unintelligible).
Matthews: Yeah, "Who is that?" That's terrible. But yeah, I still love doing it, so that's my focus, is that if I'm allowed to do it and I'm so fortunate to be able to do it -- and it's sort of a therapy for me when I sing, it's not -- and I'm certainly as much there for myself as I am for the audience, because whatever frustrations I have in my life I can open my mouth and shout, even if it doesn't have anything to do with a song. I can just scream.
Tavis: My mother just happened -- the audience can't see this -- my mother watches this show every night, lives in Indiana, happens to be visiting this week, and you can't see her but she's actually on the set today, sitting off-camera over there. I only raise her because she made me promise that the last time I came back from South Africa, if I ever went again, I would take her with me.
I haven't even told her this yet, but I just agreed the other day to give a speech in South Africa a few months from now, so I'm going to take my mom to South Africa with me when I go the next time. I raise that only because you were born and raised -- born in South Africa and when I listen to you I hear it on certain words.
What does being born there and living there have to with the influences on your music, if any?
Matthews: My mom always says that she hears a lot of South African music in the songs I write, sometimes more than others. I think one of the things that I always loved about the music, like when I'd be at my uncle's house, he owned a dairy and I'd sneak down to where all the workers were living and I'd listen to these guys play guitar and sing.
What I liked was there's this openness to the music. It could be really complicated music that they're playing, but there was an openness to how they approached it, like, that was very different than the here's a sort of European kind of way, or the way we're used to a verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, and whatever -- however we think of songs.
There was very often an openness, and it was sort of like this conversation. I guess in a way -- I don't want to oversimplify it, but in a way conversational like you're having in jazz and maybe in bluegrass, and it's all these guys sitting around. And then somebody looks over (makes noise). (Laughter.) And everybody's playing, but they didn't necessarily all look like a crazy person.
And there's a circular quality to it that really thrilled me then, and so if there's an influence I don't try to make it apparent but I became -- in high school I sort of became obsessed by the music that was around me. I was raised, because of apartheid, surrounded primarily in school and otherwise by White kids -- Eurocentric kids.
So the music we were listening to came from Europe, it came from America. It wasn't that. So it was interesting for me to have this whole other music that was right there that wasn't being embraced as much. As we got older, those of us that were -- that sort of joined the liberal movement and the progressive movements in that country -- liberal being not such a popular word here; I'm a raging liberal, just in case -- if anybody was wondering. I don't -- I haven't seen -- where are they?
Tavis: I thought Ted Kennedy was the last one, and now I know Dave Matthews is still here.
Matthews: Yeah, he's almost liberal. (Laughter.) He was almost -- I thank him for his efforts.
Tavis: Compared to you, yeah.
Matthews: But there was this music that was happening right there around us when I was in high school. I remember the first time I heard it, heard some music that (unintelligible) from my house. I was 15 or something, and down in the valley near our house, I heard these whistles. And it was (makes noise). And then the other whistles came in, and they changed the time signature. And then other -- and I was, "What is going on down there? That is unbelievable, what they're doing down there."
And it was just all these group of people were just playing. I didn't want to interrupt them because it seemed like there was some -- but just listening, sitting on my lawn and just listening to these people. It's a (unintelligible) whistle thing that ends up, I think, being -- it's in 13 or some crazy time signature.
And then I was listening to a Peter Gabriel record and right at the beginning of one of the songs, I think -- I may be wrong, but I think it was like "Mercy Street" or something, I heard the same sound. And it was funny that a guy like him could come across the world and find this and slip it into his music and it was right there and that my friends and the culture, the way the culture was growing up, was we were being separated from this vast and deep well of music that goes back forever seemed like an additional insult, an additional insult to how much we can get from each other.
And I think that inspired as much my view of bigotry and politics and social change. That music probably affected my view of it, of the problems of the world, as much as any sort of words or speeches or individuals that were in politics.
Tavis: Well, whatever you were supposed to get from it, from hearing that, you got it. Dave Matthews got soul, y'all -- a whole lot of soul, and I love that about him.
Matthews: That's nice.
Tavis: The new project from the Dave Matthews Band is called "Big Whiskey and the Groogrux King." A few more dates left this summer with Dave and the band on tour. If you get a chance to see him, check this brother out. Dave, good to see you, man.
Matthews: Thank you very much.
Tavis: Glad to have you here. Enjoyed talking to you.
Matthews: What a great pleasure it is to finally meet you.
