Live

Rip It Up, Issue 207, 1 November 1994, Page 40

Live

ROLLING STONES, RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS, BUDDY GUY Pasadena Stadium, October 21

It’s lovely, Los Angeles fall weather, not too hot — a perfect mild evening to experience American stadium rock culture. You can buy the sponsor’s beer and Rolling Stones T-shirts, jackets, programmes, stickers, ties, a live video, and even order a Rolling Stones credit card.

In the USA there are very few acts that can even try to fill a stadium this summer: but outdoor venue pioneers, the Rolling Stones still can, even though they’re not massive record sellers. This month their latest, Voodoo Lounge, was certified Platinum (one million sales), but in the same month the Candlebox and Green Day albums were certified double platinum, Aerosmith’s Get A Grip hit the five million mark and Pearl Jam’s 10 reached eight million. Buddy Guy chose to deliver a Buddy-Ray-Vaughan, rock-guitar onslaught for his brief set. Blues begat rock, but rock has surely fucked over blues in recent years. Tedious. The Chili Peppers seemed to treat the gig as a jam. Dave Navarro threw in loads of wah wah behind Flea’s inanities, as they stuck funky jams to the start of their hits. Flea seems to have achieved a second (or third) childhood via drug abuse — the grunge Bugs Bunny — maybe he should host a kids TV show. The audience seemed unimpressed with the Chili Peppers, until their excellent version of ‘Higher Ground’. Of the new songs, only an ‘eavy rap ‘Power of Equality’ stood out. The stadium appeared to be about a quarter full for Buddy Guy’s Bpm set, half full for the Chili Peppers an hour later, but full for the Stones. In the freebie section everyone was celeb’ spotting — while pretending not to be. The best we saw were Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell.

The opening acts got minimal space on the giant, serpent headed, Terminator style stage. For the Stones, every trick in the book coincided with their arrival on stage, with a gritty, reverb-heavy version of ‘Not Fade Away’. The staging and terraces behind the stage came alive with pyrotechnics, peaking with a 50 foot'blast of flame shooting from the serpent’s head, out over the audience.

The Stones’ music doesn’t need the staging tricks, but they’re an integral part of getting in the face of an audience in this setting. This is their third night in the same venue, the sound is perfect — Jagger’s voice positively fills the stadium and drummer Charlie Watts is way up in the mix. On ‘Tumbling Dice’ they’re joined on stage by two singers, Bernard Fowler (Tackhead) and Lisa Fischer and four brass players. Veterans Bobby Keys on sax’ and Chuck Leavell on keyboards are back on tour with them. As new song ‘You Got Me Rocking’ grinds to a messy ending, one’s reminded part of the Stones' charm is they’re as “garage” as they ever were — no backing tapes or U2 “information superhighway”

crap here. Although the departure of Bill Wyman angered some of the Stones (their bassist was probably the most jaded Stone), the guys now seem to be renewed in spirit, with new bassist Darryl Jones titting in well. At times Jagger gave cynical, but good humoured intro’s to oldies — “Keith, what album was this from?," or, before ‘lt’s All Over Now’: “Ronnie, ready for one from the history books?” ‘Shattered’ is funkier than usual, then it's ‘Rocks Off’ from Exile On Main St, and then a slight delay while Keith gets untangled from his coat. Were the crew over enthusiastic trying to help him take it off? ‘Sparks Will Fly' from Voodoo Lounge follows, aided by a computer generated lighting extravaganza. The excellent recent single, ‘Love Is Strong’, is politely received, but really, even the younger punters are here for the oldies.

The crowd goes crazy as the intro’ for ‘Satisfaction’ stalks the stadium. It’s sing along time, but the Stones don’t leave it to the crowd — pumping it out better than ever. Jagger introduces ‘Beast of Burden’ as “the song I lost my virginity to”. Then it’s a too polite version of ‘I Go Wild’, followed by a stomping version of ‘Miss You', with Charlie Watts’ unique rock-disco feel and a daunting sax’ solo by Bobby Keys. It’s band intro’ time, with Watts getting the biggest cheers (by far), and then it’s full steam ahead with ‘Honky Tonk Woman’ etc. A few songs later, it’s time to say “good night”. The concert seemed to have flashed by in a few minutes, but now I understand why the Rolling Stones can still fill a stadium — they know what they’re good at — “It’s only rock’n’roll but. . .”. MURRAY CAMMICK

BUFFALO TOM, SUPERCHUNK, 3Ds Powerstation October 16

Back in 1991 it was known as “the rise and fall of Mudhoney.” The Seattle based Bob Seger sound-a-likes played to a sweaty, bouncing mass at the Powerstation one Saturday night in December, then had an audience of one man and his dog on the Sabbath. It was a similar situation for Boston’s Buffalo Tom last month.

The Powerstation was pitifully empty on Sunday night when the 3Ds plugged in and started shredding ear drums. Whilst including crowd favourites such as ‘Hellzapoppin’ and ‘Hey Seuss’, they played several new songs that hinted at a slight change of direction, being more dense and harsh, and less melodically appealing. ‘Outer Space’ was spat out with considerable force by David Mitchell, and was made all the more impressive when I discovered later he was playing with two broken fingers. Up next were North Carolina’s Super Chunk and they were easily on a par with the Straitjacket Fits as the best live band I’ve ever seen. I didn’t believe they could play with any more force or passion than the night before but I was wrong. You would be at a stretch to discover many bands who are so totally lost in their rock ‘n’ roll.

Frontman Mac McCaughin is the ultimate 90s punk — snotty, brash, unaffected and blessed with a gorgeous sense of melody, while beside him bassist Laura Ballance bounced up a storm. Much of their

material came from their latest two albums, Foolish and On The Mouth and they all should be hits. ‘Driveway’, the furious ‘Precision Auto’, the delicate ‘Only Piece That You Get’ and the vicious ‘Why Do You Have To Put A Date On Everything’ were all thrilling to the extreme. The pervious evening they closed with the awesome anthem ‘Slack Motherfucker’, tonight as a finale, Mac took over the drum stool, drummer Jon donned a beanie, and with co-guitarist Jim Wilbur, attempted a rap version of what sounded like Leon Haywood’s 'I Want’A Do Something Freaky To You.’ After this blast of untamed energy, Buffalo Tom induced nothing but boredom, it was college rock-by-numbers. Early on they played a version of the Rolling Stones’ ‘Under My Thumb’ for which they deserve a spell on a chain gang, and a Dylan song that I can’t recall the name of. Singer/guitarist Bill Janowitz began taking requests and engaged in light hearted conversations with the audience, and while he was having fun I started to watch how the lighting patterns changed — the ultimate sign of discontent. It was all due to the songs. Tunes from Big Red Letter Day and its predecessor Let Me Come Over were given an airing, plus a couple of oldies from the first album, but all failed to distinguish themselves. All noise and no substance does not make for a life-affirming experience. I left without witnessing the encore. Tonight the last should’ve been first, the first were great, and the second were perfect. JOHN RUSSELL

MINK, GDH WOLFPACK Squid October 14

When an old codger with thinning hair, a dodgy 70s moustache and neatly pressed Crimpolene trousers, hobbles up to you and introduces himself as the saviour of pop — what do you say? Try: “Hello George". George D Henderson: the man accused of being New Zealand’s best songwriter by both Martin Phillipps and Shayne Carter. Henderson is in the Puddle, Mink, and is the GDH of GDH Wolfpack. Wolfpack, with George’s deliberately inept but hummable guitar solos, are instantly identifiable as offspring of the Puddle. A Wolfpack song choruses with “Turn lead into gold.” For now, I’m more than willing to believe in his alchemic abilities. Mink appeared to have been born with a perfectly formed CD dripping from their instruments. They first played Auckland five months ago, and the innocents present were blasted by staggeringly cool pop. For a week or two after, everyone wanted to be Mink. Demarnia Lloyd (ex Monkey Kramp) usually has a detached coolness about her performance, but tonight it looked more like boredom. The only exception was Genevieve McClean, another of the five singers, who did seem to be pleased to be there. Oh, the guy on trumpet looked quite happy. But, for the other 11, it seemed they were playing gig 274 of a 16 month tour.

Ah, but those songs. Even played perfunctorily, it was enough to satisfy the punters. They played their indie songs, their dance songs, their 80s songs, their soul songs. In fact they played every single song off their debut. We were left impressed but undazzled.

DARREN HAWKES