Dopapod—the word has no defined meaning, but if it did, it might read something like: improvisational jazz, energetic funk, progressive rock with intellectual lyrics. The first time I heard Dopapod was in a muddy field in Illinois, and suddenly time stopped. The band has that effect on people; their music transcends the physical and takes us into a metaphysical realm where thoughts dominate our being. Hailing from the music-juggernaut city of Boston, this four-piece jam band refuses to be categorized or underestimated. Each show is crafted like fine food for the mind.
On Friday and Saturday, December 27 and 28, 2024, Dopapod played what were billed as their last Michigan live concerts, held at Bell’s Brewery’s Back Room. Friday started out with a set by the Grand Rapids–based standout band Earth Radio, who whetted the crowd’s appetite perfectly. When Dopapod took the stage, they sent a direct jolt of energy into the hungry crowd, electrifying the room. Both shows were sold out, and the floor was packed. From my perch on the balcony, the silhouetted fans were dancing and cheering so perfectly they looked AI-generated.
Dopapod gave the surging throng a retrospective of their catalog on the first night, weaving perennial favorites and rarities into every genre imaginable. Eli Winderman’s keyboard exploits are captivating—his fingers glide across the keys effortlessly. His solos dazzle with groove and soul; at times, he even enlists the melodica for a groovy, almost spooky touch. As the band’s founder, he has guided Dopapod since 2008, giving fans mountains of cherished memories. This weekend, he gave his sizable Michigan fandom even more.
The band uses an unusual stage layout, with the drummer in front so his amazing skills can be seen as well as heard. Neal “Fro” Evans has been the drummer off and on since 2010, and having him front and center is a stroke of genius. Watching “Fro” work each number is yet another part of the show. He is captivating—his eyes dart across the stage to monitor the band’s direction before he goes back to pounding out beats without ever tiring. Sometimes he is a blur of motion, and at other times he seems perfectly still, yet the beat goes on.
Night one was a resounding success, and the room was on fire. Fans danced and cheered relentlessly, right up to the hard stop at midnight. Bell’s fantastic crew provided their trademark beers and delicious food to keep the party going, and the waitstaff never seemed to lose their high spirits or smiling faces.
Night two kicked off with Grand Rapids favorites Desmond Jones. They knew exactly how to get the crowd riled up for another great night of music. By the time Dopapod returned to the stage, the diehard fans who had come to witness the band one last time were even more excited than the previous night. The evening held such promise, and we were all ready.
They opened the first hour with Velcro, Priorities, Psycho, Mudwalking, Nuff, and Balloon, closing out with an amazing version of Arnold that shook the rafters.
The band’s sound and light engineers are an unforgettable part of the concert experience. It’s no exaggeration to say the music draws you in, but the presentation seals the deal. Dopapod’s production team ensures each note is heard in crystal clarity, while the light show entrances everyone in the room. The colors and sequencing pull us into the music, and in turn, the music complements the light show. After years of touring, the entire ensemble functions like a well-oiled machine.
The second half of the show rocked on with Knobs, Piazole, Trickery, Runny, and Super Bowl—all fan favorites. Rob Compa, at the forefront on guitar, plays in a semi-animated style, his hands moving like lightning while he seems almost elevated above his own body. His solos are impeccable, with clear, decisive notes and a driving rhythm. He never tires; in fact, the whole band seems like they could play for days without a break.
Chuck Jones provides the band’s rumbling low end on bass. He grooves on every tune, guiding the tone of each song—from light pocket work to roaring solo lines that take over. He and Fro form a complete foundation, always present but never in the way, leading, driving, or simply supporting. A multifaceted bassist like Chuck is a treasure.
Chuck also served as the band’s de facto spokesperson for the evening. As midnight approached, he asked the crowd to do something new and special: he called for the audience to join the band in a “friendly explosion.” Building on Neal’s heart-pounding drums and a riff from Enter Sandman, the light show erupted, and fans thrust their hands into the air. This is how you end a show!
The band is going on an indefinite hiatus—a self-described “non-ending ending.” I’m an optimist and cannot accept that talent like this will simply vanish into festival lore. I believe the hiatus is exactly that: a time to explore other options, without forgetting what came before. For those of us fortunate enough to attend these final shows, we’ll keep the fire stoked, waiting for the day Dopapod returns to make us groove and dance under the stars once more. Until then, they leave us a wonderful archive of music on all major streaming services, YouTube, Nugs, and in our hearts.
