2ND ROW, BITCHES...

Molly and I went to our (10th, 11th?!) Dave Matthews Band concert last Wednesday. We used to, (ie...before mr. stoopid babyhead entered the picture) go to both the St. Louis show AND the Kansas City one, but as of late have chose either-or. I've been in their "fan club" since 1998 and usually get pretty damn good seats, this one we sat in row 2. Not even a "letter" row. FUCKING ROW TWO! Seeing as how they constantly change their setlists, it's always a treat to see just what they end up playing. Last Wednesday, it was no exception.

SETLIST:
JTR *
What Would You Say?
When The World Ends *
Hunger for the Great Light *
Dancing Nancies *
Warehouse *
Grace is Gone
Raven *
Tripping Billies *
Where Are You Going?
So Much To Say * -->
Too Much *
Smooth Rider *
American Baby Intro *
Louisiana Bayou *
Encore:
Sister +
Crash
Pantala Naga Pampa * -->
Rapunzel *

* Rashawn Ross on Trumpet
+ Dave Solo

But what is a concert without some drunken idiot falling on top of you?!

To be fair, I don't actually know this bastard was drunk. About an hour into the show, he just falls straight forward. Right onto Molly's back. And this isn't just "Oh I lost my balance and tipped forward." This is "Goodnight everyone, I'm laying down on the seats in front of me!" He was huge, about 230 pounds, and he was just simply passed out onto the seats behind us. Molly, I, and the three other people in next to us in our row are all trying to pull him back up to his feet, but he ain't moving. Finally his wife starts screaming for the big guys in her row to do something and ALL OF US finally get him to his feet.

He sits down, shakes his head and then *I shit you not* asks for his beer.

Good times.

Best part of the show was Dave putting on a pair of those dumbass "bug eye" sunglasses all the ladies are wearing nowadays. He ended up wearing them for an entire song and then tossing them back into the audience.