Las Vegas can make any band feel like a spectacle, but Dave Matthews Band didn’t need the glitz of the Strip to shine. When they rolled into Dolby Live at Park MGM in March 2024 for a night of genre-blurring, groove-driven magic, they proved once again that their secret weapon isn’t just musicianship—it’s heart.
Dolby Live, with its impeccable acoustics and state-of-the-art lighting, felt tailor-made for DMB’s sonic layering. It’s an intimate space by Vegas standards—about 5,200 seats—but it packs an arena punch. And when Dave Matthews and company hit the stage, the sound wrapped around the crowd like a warm wave: crisp, dynamic, and endlessly alive.
From the moment the first notes of “Virginia in the Rain” floated out, you could feel that this was going to be a special night. The crowd, a mix of longtime fans and Vegas tourists curious to see what all the fuss was about, was instantly pulled into that hypnotic DMB flow—part rock concert, part communal ritual.
A Night That Flowed Like a River
“Virginia in the Rain” was the perfect opener: lush, moody, and meditative. Dave’s voice, still unmistakably soulful after all these years, was warm and expressive, while Carter Beauford’s drumming turned the song’s gentle rhythm into a living, breathing pulse. The interplay between Rashawn Ross on trumpet and Jeff Coffin on sax added an almost orchestral dimension, floating above Stefan Lessard’s steady, melodic bass lines.
Without missing a beat, they rolled into “Old Dirt Hill (Bring That Beat Back),” which immediately picked up the energy. The crowd swayed, sang, and shouted along—especially during the “bring that beat back!” chant that turned the theater into a sea of voices. DMB shows are as much about audience participation as they are about the music, and even in Vegas, where spontaneity is often staged, the connection felt real.
Then came “Madman’s Eyes,” one of the newer songs that’s quickly become a live staple. It’s dark and cinematic, almost Middle Eastern in its atmosphere, with Carter driving the rhythm like a storm. Dave’s vocals were intense, practically snarling at points, and Tim Reynolds’ guitar soared like a battle cry. The lighting pulsed in sync, filling the room with flashes of crimson and gold—turning Dolby Live into something closer to a cathedral of sound.
“Looking for a Vein,” another recent addition, kept the momentum going. It’s a leaner, funkier track that showed how the band has continued to evolve past their jam-band label. There’s something deeply modern in the song’s structure—groove-heavy, introspective, and unpredictable.
When the band slid seamlessly into “Satellite,” it was like the crowd collectively exhaled. That familiar guitar pattern—delicate, crystalline—sparked instant recognition, and everyone sang along as Dave smiled and looked genuinely moved. But in true DMB fashion, they didn’t leave the song as-is. The band shifted directly into their first-ever cover of Billy Preston’s “Will It Go Round in Circles,” and the place exploded.
Hearing DMB tackle the funky 1973 hit was pure joy. Rashawn Ross’ trumpet led the charge, and Jeff Coffin’s saxophone solo took the song to new heights. Dave grinned ear-to-ear as he danced across the stage, clearly having the time of his life. The combination of the two songs—“Satellite” into “Will It Go Round in Circles”—felt like a perfect encapsulation of what this band does best: blending technical skill with freewheeling fun.
The Middle Stretch: Vintage Vibes and Bold Moves
The midsection of the show was a masterclass in dynamics. “Spaceman” glided in next, its reggae-like groove creating a laid-back pocket that gave everyone a moment to breathe. Stefan Lessard’s bassline rolled like a calm tide, while Dave’s vocals carried a quiet sincerity.
Then came a bombshell: “The Last Stop.” A rarity in the DMB live rotation, it’s one of their most powerful and complex songs—political, furious, and gorgeous all at once. The band tore through it with precision, the rhythm shifting and swelling like an approaching storm. When Tim Reynolds launched into his electric guitar solo, it was pure catharsis. And just when the song seemed to reach its conclusion, the band tagged on a surprising outro—Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song”—a fiery, wordless coda that sent chills through the crowd.
“Lover Lay Down” followed, bringing the mood back to something more intimate. Jeff Coffin’s soprano sax work was mesmerizing, swirling around Dave’s warm vocal delivery. Couples in the crowd swayed arm-in-arm, bathed in soft blue light.
“Straight Shot,” one of the newer songs from Walk Around the Moon, was solid and confident. It’s a song that feels built for the stage, and the band gave it a muscular, groove-heavy performance.
But it was the next song that turned the night from great to unforgettable. DMB launched into David Bowie’s “Let’s Dance,” marking its live debut. The crowd erupted the moment they recognized the riff. Dave, smiling and slightly bashful, leaned into the song’s rhythm with his signature offbeat phrasing, while the horn section carried the melody with swagger. Tim Reynolds took the guitar solo and absolutely shredded—it was Bowie by way of DMB funk, and it worked.
The Bowie cover bled perfectly into “Grey Street,” which felt massive in the tight acoustics of Dolby Live. The song’s emotional punch never fades, no matter how many times they play it. The fans shouted every word back, the floor shaking beneath them.
Then came “The Space Between,” which remains one of their most beautiful and heartfelt songs. Dave introduced it softly—“This one’s for anyone trying to keep their head above water”—and the crowd cheered. His voice carried a fragile tenderness, and the mix of violin-like keyboard tones and brass flourishes gave it a new depth.
“Jimi Thing” was next—a sprawling, joyous jam that stretched past the 10-minute mark. The audience clapped along as the band traded solos, with Coffin and Ross locking horns in a playful horn duel. Dave danced in his familiar goofy way, laughing and shouting little ad-libs into the mic.
Then came another surprise—“Cheap Sunglasses,” the ZZ Top classic, making its live debut in a DMB set. It was raw, bluesy, and swaggering, with Dave clearly having fun channeling his inner Billy Gibbons. Reynolds once again stole the show, delivering a blistering solo that earned a standing ovation mid-song.
Closing Out With Soul and Spirit
After the playful detour, the mood turned introspective with “Gravedigger.” Played often in Dave’s solo sets but less so with the full band, it landed like a ghostly prayer. The stage lighting turned to dusky purple, and Dave’s voice—haunting and human—filled the space with a quiet weight.
“Why I Am” snapped the crowd back into motion, honoring the late LeRoi Moore with its funky, driving rhythm. Dave introduced it with a nod to his fallen bandmate: “This one’s for Roi—we still hear him every night.” The horn section seemed to glow with extra life during this one, carrying the spirit of their friend forward.
Then came “Warehouse,” one of those DMB songs that feels almost sacred live. The call-and-response chant—“Woo!”—echoed through the entire venue, uniting every fan in the room. It was pure communal joy, the kind of moment that defines why people follow this band from city to city.
As the main set ended, the crowd roared for more, and Dave returned alone for the encore, guitar in hand.
“Pretty Bird,” a traditional Hazel Dickens folk tune, was performed solo—just Dave, his guitar, and a single spotlight. The room was utterly silent, hanging on every word. It was a beautiful, humble moment amid the chaos of Vegas—a reminder that at his core, Dave Matthews is still that earnest storyteller who got his start in small coffeehouses.
The band returned for one final burst of energy with “Dancing Nancies.” As the crowd jumped and sang along—“Could I have been anyone other than me?”—Dave laughed, twirled, and grinned from ear to ear. It was the perfect closer: playful, hopeful, and full of that ineffable DMB magic that turns a concert into a celebration of being alive.
Still the Best Kind of Odd
Walking out of Dolby Live, fans were buzzing. For a band in its fourth decade, Dave Matthews Band still finds ways to surprise. This Vegas show was a perfect example—two live debuts, deep cuts, fan favorites, and a sense of playfulness that’s rare for any group, let alone one that’s been touring for over 30 years.
Dave was loose and funny throughout the night, peppering the set with his trademark rambling humor. Carter Beauford, as always, was a marvel to watch—a drummer who seems to play in four dimensions at once. Tim Reynolds’ guitar work was jaw-dropping, veering from delicate acoustic touches to explosive electric solos. And the horn section—Ross and Coffin—were the secret weapons, adding color and shape to every song.
More than anything, though, the show reaffirmed what’s made DMB endure: they’re a live band, first and foremost. No two nights are ever the same. The setlists shift constantly, the jams evolve, and the energy always feels organic. They don’t chase trends or nostalgia—they just keep following the groove, wherever it leads.
In Vegas, surrounded by the artificial and the overproduced, Dave Matthews Band reminded everyone that there’s nothing more thrilling than real musicians making real music in real time.
Setlist
Main Set:
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Virginia in the Rain
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Old Dirt Hill (Bring That Beat Back)
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Madman’s Eyes
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Looking for a Vein
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Satellite →
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Will It Go Round in Circles (Billy Preston cover) (first time played by DMB)
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Spaceman
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The Last Stop (with “Immigrant Song” outro)
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Lover Lay Down
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Straight Shot
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Let’s Dance (David Bowie cover) (live debut)
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Grey Street
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The Space Between
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Jimi Thing
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Cheap Sunglasses (ZZ Top cover) (live debut)
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Gravedigger (Dave Matthews song)
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Why I Am
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Warehouse
Encore:
19. Pretty Bird (Hazel Dickens cover) (Dave solo)
20. Dancing Nancies
By the end of the night, one thing was clear: DMB in Vegas wasn’t just a concert—it was an affirmation. Even surrounded by neon excess and casino noise, Dave Matthews and his band found a way to make 5,000 strangers feel like a family. And as everyone spilled out into the warm desert night humming “Dancing Nancies,” it felt like the Strip had been temporarily taken over by the rhythm of something real.