overlap

When is a band not a band? Good question. To take a currently on tour case in point, for starters we have Diamond Head. Now, Brian Tatler formed the band, co-wrote almost all the famous early material with Sean Harris, and has been in the band for the entire length it has existed, so I'm comfortable with whatever band Tatler is playing Diamond Head songs with, and indeed recording new material with, being called Diamond Head. That makes its own sense. On the other hand you have Scott Gorham, John Sykes and assorted hired hands playing material largely written by, and originally sung by someone who has now been dead for almost twenty two years. And much as I love the material, nobody's going to convince me that that is really Thin Lizzy. Diamond Head blast into It's Electric, with Nick Tart jumping about like a very junior Bruce Dickinson and a theatre audience relaxed in their comfy velvet effect chairs gradually stir into life. Commenting that 'It's like the cinema in here', Tart has a point, and as last minute replacements on the tour for Queensryche you might expect Diamond Head to be a little off the pace or slow to get going. Not a bit of it, for the first couple of tracks Tatler wields a Flying V with extreme prejudice, and what follows for the next forty-odd minutes is classic trad Midlands metal. Drummer Karl Wilcox does a great line in looking rather like a weightlifter version of Ozzy circa 1985, but exhibits far greater motor control and co-ordination as he batters his kit like there's no tomorrow, Tatler hits solo after solo and it's all too soon into Helpless and Am I Evil to close. Nice. Disappointment not to get to see Queensryche again, who'd been a major reason in deciding to go in the first place, turns into satisfaction at seeing a still evolving act with new material and a vibrancy that belies their vintage. The prospect of sitting through a faithful re-creation of Live And Dangerous, as I had been led to believe was on the cards, wasn't so exciting. As it turns out, that's not what we got at all. Having made a particular effort to get a ticket for a seat that would put me close in front of Scott Gorham, I was both amused and impressed at the will-they-won't-they efforts the security people made to get people to stay sat in their seats instead of all moving to stand at the front, and at his reactions. One bloke stood in front of Gorham for all of about five seconds before being led away by his arm and pointed back to his seat, which had Gorham pursing his lips in disbelief like he'd just watched someone try to pick up a running chainsaw blade first, and responded by coming back to stand even closer to the front edge of the stage when not at his microphone. After four or five songs, two guys who'd already been warned for enjoying themselves too much made a break for the stagefront area, followed by a critical mass of a three dozen people, and more as it became clear that six security were never going to keep sixty people in their seats. This seemed to amuse Gorham and Sykes greatly, and made for a great atmosphere. I stayed where I was, and the movement of people away from being stood right in front of me meant that I had a better shot at getting some half-reasonable pictures of Gorham and the other person I was especially keen to photograph... Tommy Aldridge is 57, and takes to the stage already bare chested. When I first saw him when they opened for Styx and Deep Purple earlier this year, I was mesmerised by his drumming, and while I have no real understanding of the craft, I can almost believe Sykes when he later introduces Aldridge to the audience as 'the best drummer in the world'. It's certainly true he pioneered double bass drums in rock, and how he manages to hit that many skins and cymbals in time while doing helicopters above his head with the drum stick in his left hand is beyond me. I've always been impressed by capability, and Aldridge has it in abundance. And in Ronnie Dio's rock world of demons, dragons and mysterious evil strangers, you have to love the way Tommy's drum solo moves through chucking his sticks out into the crowd, to playing with his hands for a couple of minutes, to picking up another pair of sticks and holding them in the sign of the cross to finish with. If it's his faith that keeps him drumming like that, then it obviously works for him, and I'm not going to knock it. What could have been unspectacular turned out to be a cracking gig, and the rhythmically complex Black Rose gives TA a chance to stick an extra few beats into every bar in between Gorham and Sykes both taking lead guitar solos, and everyone leaves happy. Much as it isn't quite the real thing, you'll struggle to find a tribute band that can rock that hard and have so much fun in Lynott's memory, and a smoother operator you will never see. * the best five Aldridge pics have been on flickr for a few days, this is my favourite of them

Labels: Diamond Head, gigs, rock, Thin Lizzy