Tuesday, September 22, 1998
Sunday, September 13, 1998
Jesus & Mary Chain/Possum Dixon - Coach House
My faith in rock and roll has been restored. However, so has my belief in the cynicism of the music business. On September 12, I had the distinct pleasure of seeing the Jesus & Mary Chain blow up on stage. Vocalist Jim Reid was literally falling down drunk. He was unable to remember most of the words to the songs, and he wouldn't have known when to sing them if he had been able to remember. I was excited! I had a great time, seeing the Chain as they must have been at the beginning of their career. Back then, they were known for their temperamental live shows, often taking the stage for 20 unruly minutes, and no more, of noisy rock. This was spontaneity and unpredictability, everything rock and roll should be about. By the third song, Jim had given up even trying to sing and had resorted to banging a tambourine out of time to the music. He ended up throwing his microphone and then swinging his mic stand hard against the floor, barely missing his brother, guitarist William Reid. After several failed attempts to continue on with the show, the band got pissed off at the whole situation and left the stage. Projectiles and booing from the audience saw them on their way. The band members obviously blamed William for letting Jim get so drunk.
Well, it turned out that they were giving out refunds for the show. Even though the band were on for 25 minutes, I guess that doesn't constitute a performance for contractual purposes. In my own humble opinion, people should have known that the Chain were volatile and that there was the possibility that the live show would consist of a very short set of noise. Oh well, I'm not going to complain about getting my money back. In fact, I used that money to get a ticket to the following night's show. After all, I had only seen half the story and I was anxious to see how it would all turn out.
So, I again made a pilgrimage to see the Chain live. The stage setup was pretty much the same as the previous night and Jim seemed relatively sober. However, William was missing! His mic was set up and his amp was there, but he just did not bother to show up for the concert! Rock and Roll! The Chain, or what there was of it, proceeded to blast through their set and two encores, playing for a full hour. Unfortunately, it was obvious that they were just fulfilling their contractual obligations. They didn't bother to compensate for the loss of William and just did the songs without his parts. Many times, where I expected a guitar part to come in during a break in the vocal, there was nothing. The band did not seem very energetic: they were just punching the clock. This show was nothing like the Chain concert I had recently seen at the Palace in June. Now THAT had been a concert, full of life, energy and excitement. This night was the epitomy of the Great Rock and Roll Swindle. I'm sure that after losing a bucketload of money the previous night, the band were under severe pressure to at least give a semblance of a performance. The sad thing was, without the context of the previous night, the second night's audience had no idea how lacking the show was. At least I came away with bragging rights to seeing the Chain blow up on stage.
Well, it turned out that they were giving out refunds for the show. Even though the band were on for 25 minutes, I guess that doesn't constitute a performance for contractual purposes. In my own humble opinion, people should have known that the Chain were volatile and that there was the possibility that the live show would consist of a very short set of noise. Oh well, I'm not going to complain about getting my money back. In fact, I used that money to get a ticket to the following night's show. After all, I had only seen half the story and I was anxious to see how it would all turn out.
So, I again made a pilgrimage to see the Chain live. The stage setup was pretty much the same as the previous night and Jim seemed relatively sober. However, William was missing! His mic was set up and his amp was there, but he just did not bother to show up for the concert! Rock and Roll! The Chain, or what there was of it, proceeded to blast through their set and two encores, playing for a full hour. Unfortunately, it was obvious that they were just fulfilling their contractual obligations. They didn't bother to compensate for the loss of William and just did the songs without his parts. Many times, where I expected a guitar part to come in during a break in the vocal, there was nothing. The band did not seem very energetic: they were just punching the clock. This show was nothing like the Chain concert I had recently seen at the Palace in June. Now THAT had been a concert, full of life, energy and excitement. This night was the epitomy of the Great Rock and Roll Swindle. I'm sure that after losing a bucketload of money the previous night, the band were under severe pressure to at least give a semblance of a performance. The sad thing was, without the context of the previous night, the second night's audience had no idea how lacking the show was. At least I came away with bragging rights to seeing the Chain blow up on stage.
Saturday, September 12, 1998
Friday, September 11, 1998
Friday, September 4, 1998
Saturday, August 29, 1998
Wednesday, August 26, 1998
Tuesday, August 25, 1998
Thursday, August 20, 1998
Bauhaus - Golden Hall
OK, I confess. I went to the Bauhaus reunion tour, billed as Resurrection98. It's not like I went to the Madness reunion or the B52's/Pretenders, and it's not like I'm going to go to Culture Club/Human League/Howard Jones! Bauhaus is one repackaged 80's music nostalgia product I can live with. The show was actually quite good, unsurprising since it was basically a compilation of all of Bauhaus' biggest songs. My favorite was the cover of Bowie's Ziggy Stardust; I loved it back in high school and I got a huge rush hearing it live.
One surprise for me was the size of the crowd. I never imagined that there were so many Goths in San Diego, but they turned out in full force. People also came from Los Angeles and Orange County, having been unable to secure tickets to the three sold out shows at the Hollywood Palladium. I have to believe that much of the audience didn't like Bauhaus when they were around the first time, whether due to age or ignorance or the band's low profile during the 80's. (Low profile in the mainstream that is - I liked them before there even was a Love and Rockets.) Anyhow, everyone was definitely into the band in a big way, and most people seemed to know most of the material.
I must admit, however, that I do feel a little guilt with my pleasure. It feels cheap to see a band for the first time fourteen years after it breaks up. Especially since the band's motivation for the reunion reeks of insincerity. It seems obvious that, after none-too-successful solo careers by Peter Murphy, Daniel Ash, and David J, and the fizzling out of Love and Rockets, the band members just ran out of money and needed to do the reunion to pay the bills. At $30 per ticket, 4000 tickets per show, and at least 30 shows, the gross should be enough to keep them in the green for a while. That's not even including merchandise sales (I saw a lot of $25 shirts sold) and increased CD sales. Watching the band perform, with the attention and spotlight always on Murphy, it seems obvious why the band split in the first place. The clash of egos when Ash and J tried to become more than just the backing band for Murphy was apparently too great. For my part, I think Ash and J definitely have talent on their own; my favorite work from the collective recordings of these guys is the 1985 Love and Rockets release Seventh Dream of Teenage Heaven.
One surprise for me was the size of the crowd. I never imagined that there were so many Goths in San Diego, but they turned out in full force. People also came from Los Angeles and Orange County, having been unable to secure tickets to the three sold out shows at the Hollywood Palladium. I have to believe that much of the audience didn't like Bauhaus when they were around the first time, whether due to age or ignorance or the band's low profile during the 80's. (Low profile in the mainstream that is - I liked them before there even was a Love and Rockets.) Anyhow, everyone was definitely into the band in a big way, and most people seemed to know most of the material.
I must admit, however, that I do feel a little guilt with my pleasure. It feels cheap to see a band for the first time fourteen years after it breaks up. Especially since the band's motivation for the reunion reeks of insincerity. It seems obvious that, after none-too-successful solo careers by Peter Murphy, Daniel Ash, and David J, and the fizzling out of Love and Rockets, the band members just ran out of money and needed to do the reunion to pay the bills. At $30 per ticket, 4000 tickets per show, and at least 30 shows, the gross should be enough to keep them in the green for a while. That's not even including merchandise sales (I saw a lot of $25 shirts sold) and increased CD sales. Watching the band perform, with the attention and spotlight always on Murphy, it seems obvious why the band split in the first place. The clash of egos when Ash and J tried to become more than just the backing band for Murphy was apparently too great. For my part, I think Ash and J definitely have talent on their own; my favorite work from the collective recordings of these guys is the 1985 Love and Rockets release Seventh Dream of Teenage Heaven.
Friday, August 14, 1998
Thursday, August 13, 1998
Saturday, August 8, 1998
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