Friday, June 17, 2011

Heaven Tonight

Just as with bus services, heavy rock leviathans may be few and far between and then several come along at once. Despite the original hopes of another recently seen band filling the support slot, there's a change of plan somewhere down the line and this is a new one on me.

Plead The Fifth come from LA and play the sort of pop-punk you'd associate with something like Green Day, but with a lead guitarist who looks like Dave Hill by way of Angus Young, a bass player who looks like a very young Tom Robinson by way of Robyn Hitchcock and a singer who seems to know what he's doing I guess they might turn out something remarkable. For me, anything in that area of sub-genre has to compete with the flawless China Drum and they hardly match them yet.

Legend is a word that has been devalued repeatedly in recent years, and yet every now and then something rolls into town that resets the bar at a level most others can only aspire to. The last time something rocked me sideways to this extent might be the first time I saw Y&T, the last time I saw The Posies or the first time I saw Europe - all of them acts of multi-decade longevity, and household names to people who know what they are talking about musicwise. And to that list I now add another band I wasn't a particular fan of and who largely for that reason managed to give me a colossally pleasant suprise of the stunning live music kind.

After the cartoon-based fun of the previous weekend, I'm amused that the intro clips tape includes Homer Simpson saying 'I'd rather listen to Cheap Trick' and then Apu repeating a couple of lines from Dream Police, and then with a voice announcing 'the best fucking band in the world', Cheap Trick take the stage.

Rick Nielsen strides on like an affable uncle who's way old enough to know better, and with his son Daxx on the drums and Tom Petersson on the bass, the line up is complete enough to start playing around the intro to Just Got Back before Robin Zander steps up to the mike just in time for his first vocal line. With the keyboard player slightly hidden, there's nevertheless a mighty depth and serious melodic weight to the live sound. For now, Nielsen is playing a mere six strings, but both zander and Petersson are playing twelve, double string rhythm guitar and treble string bass respectively.

With a glittering brocade embroidered jacket and a sheriff's star leather cap that fools nobody - and hey, my hair's going the same way - Zander looks every inch the Rock Star with a capital \M/ and with that voice it's only right. Tonight Tom Petersson is the coolest man in rock, with a smile wider than the Bristol Channel and a clear delight just at being on that stage.

It's Nielsen's show though, with a range of jerky gestures and mannerisms that kinda bring to mind Suggs' nutty boy antics with a touch more theatrical verve, he prowls and bounces around the stage, throws enough plectrums into the crowd to put local musician's supplies outlets out of business for a couple of years, oh and there's a total mastery of his ever-changing guitar too. Whether it's playing the solo with just his fretting hand or strumming along with a thumb before reaching for yet another from his mike stand of a thousand plectrums, it's pop-rock corker after hard rock smash after powerpop belter that has me bouncing around like I'm seventeen again.

There's a brief break in proceedings as the euro fan club main man gets called up on stage to say a few words, calling some woman up on the stage to join him - Nielsen 'get on your fucking knees, man' and as he goes to say his piece Zander gets involved, re-adjusting the mike stand to the appropriate height. It's not quite the loudest noise of the night as the now bride-to-be says 'yes' and has the proffered ring put on her finger, but it's close.

And then it's back to the business of rocking, caught in between a number of festival appearances across Europe this festival season, this might well turn out to be their most intimate appearance this side of the Atlantic this summer. In equal turns intimate and bombastic, tenderly touching and aggressive, and sonically perfect throughout, this is live music as it's meant to be, committed, complete, perfect.

Ordinarily, the day after the gig, that band's music disappears off my mp3 player to be replaced with the next lot. My small collection of Cheap Trick albums are all still on there.

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Sunday, June 12, 2011

Don't Stop Believin'?

With a poorly timed release of the new album at the start of a week with a bank holiday monday with the gig on the sunday, I didn't get to listen to the new album till the wednesday evening and I can't say I'd had long enough with it to know it particularly well. Nevertheless I hit the motorway at exactly the right time to hit the traffic hold-ups at the end of the weekend, and naturally hit my own late arrival tension threshold.

In the venue car park at five minutes past stage time, it took another fifteen minutes to get from the car park to somewhere near my seat, including the enjoyable experience of hearing muffled songs from the stage making it through the venue walls and then walking right out of earshot to get to the front door. Man, I so love industrial concert venues like this.

All the same, I was singing (quietly, to myself) along with Fooling Yourself (The Angry Young Man) halfway round the car park, and Blue Collar Man which I caught the latter half of with my own eyes. The other couple of times I've seen Styx in recent years, I've been hugely impressed, and it's nice to see my favourite little and large combination since Fletcher and Defoe in the respective forms of JY and Tommy Shaw giving it their all. Miss America rocks hard, and for Come Sail Away the distinctive silhouette of Chuck Pannozzo appears before the lights come up, though I can't possibly go anywhere near Some Sail Away without hearing Cartman's version too. There's a brief pretend departure then an 'encore' of Renegade and while mildly disappointed to have missed part of their set, I'm still pleased to be there at all, and watch them do nothing released any later than 1978!

With a fifteen minute turnaround between bands, there's a brief stroll to see what the venue's actually like - a monster cinema foyer leading towards the arena pretty much sums it up - then it's back to find my right seat, or more or less. I couldn't say I'm a huge fan of Foreigner, and yes, that's partly because opportunities to see them over the years have been limited at best. Of course I've got a copy of 4, there's the vinyl LP of Foreigner Records (the early greatest hits) and that might be it, the fact I'm not even sure tells its own tale. I'm aware that Lou Gramm's health took him out of the picture some time ago, and with his voice being such a major part of the Foreigner sound (and his fantastic Midnight Blue single, something I do know I have), there's another replacement singer in the mix.

I needn't have worried - looking for all the world like Joey AORamone, Kelly Hansen hits all the notes smoothly while giving the full range of method frontman mike stand twirling, posing and even briefly disappearing into the crowd though thankfully without Bono-at-Live-Aid type embarrassments! Again the set is something of a vintage hits job - but then who could argue with this hour?

Double Vision
Head Games
Cold As Ice
Waiting For A Girl Like You
Feels Like The First Time
Urgent
I Want To Know What Love Is
Hot Blooded
Juke Box Hero

So often the gig and my experience of it is based on my relationship with the band, and some of those relationships, like any other, go through rocky patches. On the one hand, there's a part of me that would love to see them in any guise and line-up just to hear Neal Schon's guitar, and there's a part of me that feels somewhat troubled by the recent revolving lead vocalist slot. Equally I've now had the luxury of seeing Schon on guitar seven times, in three different bands and in five different line-ups and I'm pretty confident in what I can expect to see; a few pulled faces at moments of string-bending tension and little in the way of excitement, but then I love the solos in Faithfully to listen to, not because I want to see someone doing star jumps on a tightrope.

As a show, it's AORena rock by numbers and it does seem like just another gig. Four new tracks in 18 is about the right mix, Arnel's song City Of Hope suddenly makes a lot more sense with a background slideshow of his home city where I was on that day two years previously and where even with that passing familiarity I have no doubts how troubled that city is. It's one of the highlights for me in fact, to start to see Arnel in his own right - getting a new haircut helps too - instead of just the latest contestant in the ongoing Perry-oke role.

Deen sings Mother/Father and I'd love to see him sing more. There's a mighty confetti cannon either side of the stage for Any Way You Want It - I'm revisited by Homer Simpson singing along during that one - and the final encore track Lovin' Touchin' Squeezin' sees us running out into acres of car park to take our chances in the queue for the long drive home.

As an experience, I was mildly surprised to see so few eight year olds from the post-Glee generation in attendance though the x chromosome quote of the audience was a bit higher than some gigs I've been to, and yes there was a tiny bit of handbag envy going on. In summary, pretty much as expected but definitely still showing signs of life.

Separate Ways
Only The Young
Edge Of A Moment
Ask The Lonely
Send Her My Love
Resonate
Stone In Love
City Of Hope
Lights
Mother/Father - Deen vocal
Open Arms
Chain Of Love
Wheel In The Sky
Be Good To Yourself
Faithfully
Don't Stop Believin'
Any Way You Want It
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Lovin' Touchin' Squeezin'

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Back To The Future

The advent of modern technology means I can check the venue website before making the trip, and on one recent occasion it's just as well I did. Seeing that evening's gig marked 'postponed', my relief at sparing myself the drive evaporated when I read further and it became clear that it had only been postponed in the sense of moved up the road to another venue. Both venues are close enough I'd have parked in more or less the same place anyway, but all the same it's nice to know beforehand.

Approaching the door, I hear something that sounds rather familiar - somewhere between the rising dynamic of Talk To Me and the tempo of Telephone, both songs by Shy from 1987 - and as it turns out, there's a very good reason why. Despite the keyboard player's unhappiness with the sound, Serpentine sound fantastic with a guitarist playing exactly the sort of lead breaks I love, keyboards filling out the sound and a vest-wearing singer from Barnsley. It turns out that Serpentine had previously boasted lead vocals from Tony Mills, formerly of Shy and a dozen other bands, which kind of figures. For thirty minutes, it was like 1986 never ended, and for me that's about as high as praise gets when it comes to this area of music.

There's something slightly unsatisfactory in buying their first album when only the final track has vocals from the new/current singer, but I'm delighted at the prospect of tracking down their second album in due course as it promises to be an absolute cracker.

There's a rustle of alarm and anticipation in the hedgerows of the crowd for the next band, and for good reason. I only picked up on them from a 'this year's next big thing' list - a self-fulfilling experience, it turns out - in Classic Rock magazine, but once I'd read that article/interview/advertorial piece (deleting according to taste) and checked out a couple of tunes on youtube, I couldn't wait to track down the self-titled debut album by Houston when it was released in the UK.

In classic style, the band start noodling about on their instruments, launch into the first song and the singer arrives on stage a matter of seconds before his first vocal line. Arrives on stage in a boxer style silk dressing gown with his name on the back no less, and hitting the cultural reference to Eye Of The Tiger as he does so, starts singing. I didn't note the set list, I was too busy taking pictures and soaking up the experience of something I'd been waiting for for a couple of months taking place in front of me.

Some bands occasionally look a little bored on stage, or somehow distracted because it's just another gig, but this was A Show at an early enough stage in the career arc that those on the stage seemed to be enjoying it as much as the rest of us. Yes, a guitarist climbing on top of the stage-side amp isn't new, but it is mildly amusing in what amounts to the size of a larger than average sitting room! Among six people on stage, four of them are wearing headbands of dubious fashion-criminality, and apart from the one guitarist's Hendrix fantasies, this would be almost a perfect production line keyboard and vocal heavy AOR band of the sort Derek Oliver couldn't help but approve of.

There's a couple of nice touches afterwards as an eight year old at his first gig gets his picture taken with band members while wearing the singer's boxer robe, and exactly the sort of friendly accessibility that will take a band forwards from this level. Vocal iffyness due to consecutive nights on the road notwithstanding, I wasn't expecting they'd be quite this good.

The final band Crash Diet also come from another place in time - and it's one where they've clearly put the time in planning their show in detail. If Tigertailz had listened to tons of Hüsker Dü, Crash Diet is exactly what you'd get, and it's amusing and entertaining enough but after 40-odd minutes I'm back out and on my way home.

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