We had tickets last night for the Long Island stop of the Lost 80's Tour, another multi-band nostalgia tour making its way around the country this summer.
Now lately, I know that my live show posts have been Russian novels. So I'm going to try to hold this one to a Russian novelette. I'm thinking, Tolstoy?
If you read my post about the Forest Hills Tennis Stadium last weekend, you might remember that before the show even started, my daughter had texted me about getting her upstate for her little sister's Sweet Sixteen birthday party. Well, that happened this weekend. We drove all night Thursday night to get her up there (and Denise cancelled going to see The Alarm at the Boulton Center and sitting in front row seats with her friend Tim in order to do this -- what a great Mom!).
Then we drove back home all day Friday (which involved a brief stop at a motel in Herkimer that was kind enough to allow us to check in at 11 in the morning, but neglected to mention that they'd be doing construction on the room two rooms away from ours. Bang! Bang! Saw! Saw!). We got home at midnight on Friday.
By 9AM Saturday, I had to be back out in Little Neck for a monthly staff meeting for my job. (I've been trying to talk our Executive Director into having the meetings at midnight every other month, so that once in awhile, we'd be having them during my kind of hours, but so far, no luck on that.) Then I shot back home to Patchogue to catch a few hours of sleep, before going back out to the Tilles Center for tonight's show. (Poor Denise was so wiped that she slept until 11 on Saturday, then laid back down for a nap with me at 2).
You'd have thought I'd be in no shape for this show. But actually, I did better than I expected. Some of my recent kvetching on here (about the Erasure show, and the Forest Hills show) has made me hyper-aware that for me to enjoy a show, I really have to be rested. So in spite of the torturous schedule this weekend, I made sure I had plenty of sleep on Friday night and during the day on Saturday. And the Tilles Center is actually one of the easier venues for me to get into -- there are no long walks involved, and no sitting outdoors in the heat -- so I was in better shape than I had any right to expect.
The Tilles Center is kind of a funny place for a show like this. It's one of the two major entertainment arenas on Long Island located on a college campus (at C.W. Post, in Greenlawn. The other is The Staller Center at SUNY Stony Brook). And while they'll have the occasional rock or popular music show like this one, there are also things there like Broadway-style musicals, operas, ballets, classical music concerts, etc. The last time I was there was a few years ago, when I took my son to see Evil Dead: The Musical. (We sat upfront in the "splatter" section, but my son was disappointed that we didn't really get any gore on us.) And the time before that was before our kids had even moved in with us, when Denise and I saw Celtic Woman there. Even their rock shows all involve older bands. Their upcoming scheduled includes people like Pat Benatar, Roy Orbison (he's still alive? Good for him!), Toto, and Dennis DeYoung of Styx. So it's kind of a staid venue. Don't expect any crowd surfing there.
Prior to the show, we met a couple of Denise's friends from her WLIR Facebook group, Tina and Cindy. Tina is a photography enthusiast, and I'm hoping to collaborate on some shows with her, maybe for Rich Branciforte at Good Times. Tina and Cindy had seats in the very first row, and the first row tonight involved sitting in a folding chair up so close to the stage that your knees touched the stage. This was definite neck-bending territory. Denise and I were also pretty close to the stage, about eight rows further back (in the third row of actual non-folding-chair seats).
The lineup for the Lost 80's tour has been fluctuating a little bit. A lot of Denise's friends saw the show in Coney Island on Friday night, and their lineup had included the six bands we were going to see, plus Annabella of Bow Wow Wow (who must have jumped ship from the Retro Futura Tour -- traitor!), and The Romantics (who I couldn't care less about, except that it would have been pretty cool to hear them sing "What I Like About You". But oh well.) Really, the main reason I wanted to be at this show was for A Flock of Seagulls. I always felt that they were a tragically undervalued '80s band. Those first two albums were as good as anything that came out during the decade, and the third one, The Story of a Young Heart, was pretty strong too. Then Paul Reynolds, their guitarist, left the band, and their fourth album was the most godawful piece of crap you've ever heard! But let's not talk about that.)
The first band up was Nu Shooz. They were a little bit of an odd choice for this tour, as all of the other bands on the bill were part of the new wave movement. Nu Shooz, on the other hand, was an R&B-tinged dance band that revolved around the husband-wife team of John Smith and Valerie Day. They're from Portland, OR, but they mentioned during their set how they hold New York mostly responsible for the fact that they had a music career -- their music was getting a little airplay in the Pacific Northwest, but it wasn't until they started getting some heavy play in the dance halls of Manhattan that they got a legitimate record deal. They started out with like 12 members back in the '80s, but now it's just Smith and Day.
A couple of things here. I actually liked these guys somewhat back in the '80s, and in fact, they were only band on this bill that I ever owned an album from other than Flock. (And truth-be-told, I found Valerie to be quite hot back in the day.) So I was kind of psyched to see them.
Their career is a little bit of a mixed bag now. On the one hand, it's just the two of them, and unlike the Retro Futura Tour, instead of having a common backing band for the opening acts, they played with just an acoustic guitar and a backing track. They were very loungy looking, wearing quite a few sequins between the two of them. They kind of reminded me of Harper Finkel's parents on The Wizards of Waverly Place show. In fact, their appearance led me to joke about intra-tour politics with Denise, wondering aloud if they and the other opening bands were allowed to talk to Flock of Seagulls. (Denise thought probably not). On the other hand, at least they still have a career in some capacity. And as I was about to find out, Day still has a hell of a voice.
Anyway, they started their 3-song set with "Point of No Return", one of their two biggest hits. I was a little shocked that Denise was unfamiliar with it (as she usually knows all of the songs at these shows), but then I realized that this was the one band on this bill that wasn't really a WLIR band, they were a dance band. I was never a dance kid, but I was an MTV kid, and they used to get a ton of airplay on MTV. They followed "Point" with "Should I Say Yes?", a song I wasn't familiar with, then closed with their big hit, "I Can't Wait". (Odds are you know this song. I'd try to bring it back to you, but the lyrics won't help -- it's all about the instrumental chorus, and my writing "ba ba ba BA ba bababa/ba ba ba BA baba" probably wouldn't help, would it?). The crowd gave them a pretty good reception, especially given that it was largely a WLIR crowd. And as I mentioned, especially on "I Can't Wait", Day really let loose with her voice and blew the crowd away. I was happy for them.
In between sets, I noticed that although the room was only half full, there were multiple celebrities in the audience. (Or their lookalikes, anyway). Slash from Guns N' Roses was there (complete with top hat), and I think I saw Bernie Sanders sort of half-snoozing in the corner of the row behind me.
Before the next band started, the emcee introduced former WLIR deejay Larry the Duck, and for those of us who loved WLIR/WDRE, this was almost as good as having another band there. Larry pretty much emceed the rest of the show.
The next act was billed as Farrington and Mann, although Larry introduced them by their "forbidden" name, When In Rome. When in Rome was essentially a one-hit wonder that consisted of vocalists Clive Farrington and Andrew Mann and keyboardist Michael Floreale, a trio of Brits. They broke up in 1990, when the other two fired Floreale. Then in 2006, Floreale formed his own version of When in Rome, and started touring. In 2009, Farrington and Mann got back together and sued him for the name. Hyjinx ensued. Nowadays, there are two working versions of the band, Farrington and Mann (who are also sometimes known as When in Rome UK), and When in Rome II (or sometimes, simply When in Rome) for the Floreale version of the band. Seems like a lot of trouble to go through for one hit, but it's one of those hits that's actually quite popular with new-wave fans.
Anyway, they came out as a 4-piece band, which included Farrington and Mann, plus a synthesist and an electronic percussionist. At the start of their set, some twit from backstage threw out a bunch of beach balls, which I always love, because it allows my pathetic PTSD ass to focus on not getting hit in the face with a beach ball instead of enjoying the music. Happily, by the end of their set, the ushers had impounded them all. Farrington and Mann only played two songs. First was "Heaven Knows", which was a minor hit on the U.S. dance charts in 1989. Then, they played the first few chords of their big hit, "The Promise", and the crowd leaped to its feet in joy, crying as one, "My lost youth! You're back!"
It was a little hard to hear Farrington. (Or was it Mann? The one with the lower voice, anyway), but the crowd didn't care, and I really didn't either. I knew this song, even though before we bought these tickets, I couldn't have told you whose song it was if you'd have put a gun to my head. (Whenever we get tickets for one of these kinds of shows, I'm always asking Denise, "OK, which song did these guys do, again?"). Anyway, good song, and off shuffled When Farrington and Mann Is In Rome, or whoever.
Next up, a tall, single fellow came out onto the stage and picked up his guitar, only to look around in vain for the rest of his band. This was Bill Wadham. He looked pretty cool, wearing a full-length peacoat. Then the rest of his 6-piece group joined him, and my first reaction was "Oh, dear!"
This was Animotion. The entire band was dressed in black, and some of them looked worse for the wear. The bass player resembled the little guy who used to be the sidekick in The Benny Hill Show. And the female co-lead vocalist had just had a horrible accident backstage involving electricity. She must have, given her hair. It was a gray sordid mess, half Grandmama Adams and half Phyllis Diller. Larry the Duck came out and muttered something about suffering a group hug backstage. (As I got to experience the somewhat bawdy personality of Astrid Plane, the aforementioned vocalist, I'm fairly certain he meant to say that he had just been molested.) Larry introduced them as a Los Angeles band, although Ms. Plane is clearly a British ex-pat.
Plane was quite a randy gal, teasing between songs that she'd had a lovely hot stone massage at her hotel today, but, "I had to take off all me clothes, though!"). I know that Tina and Cindy in the front row were standing for her entire set. They had to be. It was the only way to avoid looking right up Plane's dress.
Much to my surprise, given my initial shock at the band's appearance, they were really good, and very high-energy. And while I may have mocked Plane's appearance some, her voice is still killer. (Of course, I haven't aged a day since the '80s myself. My hair is still blonde, and if my children try to tell you it's gray, I denounce them for the liars they are. It's blonde. It only looks gray because of the way the light hits it. And I can rock out, too. As long as I get my nap first.)
Where was I? Oh, yes, Animotion. They blazed through a couple of their songs, "Let Him Go", and "I Engineer". Then they were told they had a little time to sneak in an extra song. (And believe me, I'm going to come back to this later when I discuss whoever was running the show backstage). So they improvised a fun little version of the Soft Cell's "Tainted Love". (Don't try to tell me that Soft Cell actually borrowed it from somebody else. We're at an '80s show, damn it! It's a Soft Cell song!) At this point, some woman in the next section started screaming, "Obsession"! "Obsession!" (as if this band was going to leave the stage without doing their single biggest hit.) And amazingly (to some people), the band closed with their biggest hit, "Obsession". This got the whole room up and moving again. (Except for me. I like to relax when I listen to my music. Oh, and also except for Bernie Sanders behind me. He did briefly wake up for this song, though.)
Band number four was another British band who Denise likes a lot, Naked Eyes. They were initially a duo, comprising Pete Byrne on vocals and Rob Fisher on keyboards. Unfortunately, Fisher died of cancer in 1999 at just 42 years old. So Naked Eyes is now Byrne singing and playing guitar, with a 3-piece backing band.
As they took the stage, Byrne turned out to be Billy-Idol-sized, with the requisite British sneer. He led his band through a very well received 4-song set, that finished with his two biggest hits, "Promises, Promises", and his synthed-up version of the Burt Bacharach/Hal David song, "(There's) Always Something There to Remind Me". He did a good job, although I commented to Denise afterwards that his songs were much less vocally challenging than the ones sung by Valerie Day or Astrid Plane -- if this were figure skating, I would have deducted a point for difficulty. But the crowd loved it, as did Denise, who danced non-stop through every set except for parts of Nu Shooz's set.
At this point, I had developed a whole mythology about the backstage politics of this tour. I figured that Nu Shooz and Farrington and Mann aren't allowed to talk to Mike Score of Flock of Seagulls, and Animotion isn't even allowed to stay at the same hotel, since Astrid Plane probably scares the crap out of him. Pete Byrne is allowed to speak briefly to him, as long as he averts his eyes, and brings Score his orange juice at breakfast in the morning. Only Wang Chung are big enough stars to actually hang with him. (I amuse myself with these little fantasies, anyway.)
In between sets, three more of Denise friends from the WLIR group, Lee Ann, Roberta and Natalie found us, and came over for a chat and a couple of group photos. (Denise is pretty easy to spot in a crowd these days, as she currently sports Bubblegum-Pink hair.) They had been at the show in Coney Island the night before, although traffic caused them to miss the first couple of bands. They said that Wang Chung had been great the night before, but that Score's vocals sounded pretty rough. We told them about Cindy Wilson's vocal problems at last week's Forest Hills show. I was really hoping that Score's problems had just been due to the heat and humidity at the outdoor venue, as of course, they were the band I came to see.
Next was Wang Chung. Wang Chung is one of those bands that I sort of always put in the same category as Culture Club. I liked a couple of their songs, but would never have come to see them on their own (although it was cool to see them in a multi-band setting like this). They came out as a 4-piece, although I couldn't really tell you how many of them are original band members. The one guy I could see clearly through the crowd was tallish, and looked kind of like a gray-haired Alan Rickman, in character as Severus Snape.
I have to say, they were in really good form for their 4-song set. They opened with "Let's Go", a song that Denise was familiar with, although I wasn't. They then went into one of the two Wang Chung I do know, the S&M-infused "Dance Hall Days". (I say S&M-infused because of the lyrics -- he's always grabbing his baby by various body parts and making her do stuff. What's up with that?"). They then did an unusual choice (that I was prepared for because I've been following their setlist on setlist.fm), a cover of Cyndi Lauper's "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun". At the end of the song, they morphed this into their single biggest hit, by intoning, "Girls just wanna have fun/Girls just wanna Wang Chung", and going directly into "Everybody Have Fun Tonight". (I'm pretty sure that "everybody Wang Chung" means the same thing as "Turning Japanese, I think I'm Turning Japanese" -- both pretty un-p.c. masturbation references, except that luckily for them, the p.c. police are too involved in other things to hunt down largely obscure-to-the-modern-popular-culture 80's bands.) In any event, I suspect if you polled the crowd, many would have named this as their high point of the night.
Next up was A Flock of Seagulls. I recently reviewed their new orchestral album, Ascension, which featured all four of the original members. For this tour, however, it's basically Mike Score and three other gulls. (He's like Jonathan Livingston Seagull -- he went on to train new young flocks). Now for most of the tour, Flock has been using a 6-song set, which added "Modern Love Is Automatic" to their five best-known songs. Unfortunately, on this night, the person who was running the show screwed up big time. The Tilles Center obviously had a hard 11PM end time, and partially because the tour manager had thrown Animotion an extra song, Flock had to cut their set down to four songs, leaving out "Automatic", plus (!!!) "Telecommunication"! Thanks a bunch, butthead!
Anyway, Flock came out, and while I wouldn't say Score's voice was amazing, it was nowhere near as bad as I had feared (and not even approaching Cindy Wilson territory). They opened with "The More You Live, the More You Love", a song I've always loved (from their Story of a Young Heart album), then moved on to my favorite Flock song of all, "Space Age Love Song". (I missed Paul Reynolds' guitar on this one, but the current guitarist, whose name, I think, is Gord Deppe, did an OK job on it.) They finished out with what are probably their two best-known songs, "I Ran (So Far Away)" and "Wishing (If I Had a Photograph of You)". And while I missed "Telecommunication", if they had to cut one of their top five songs, they made the right choice -- these were the four I most wanted to hear.
The crowd filed out in a happy mood. If I had to guess, I'd say that the crowd favorite of the evening was probably Wang Chung, although Flock was certainly well received also. For myself, Flock was far-and-away my favorite, and actually, my second favorite was Nu Shooz. But everybody had a pretty good set tonight. In general, my only criticisms were: 1. The time screw-up that caused Flock to have to cut their set short. Luckily, I saw Flock of Seagulls back in the '80s at the Beacon Theater, or I'd have been really disappointed; and 2. While the sound in general was pretty good tonight, on several occasions, I thought the bass overwhelmed the mix too much and drowned out some of the synthesizers. But these were minor criticisms. I certainly enjoyed the show. I'd rank it ahead of this year's Retro Futura tour, although it wasn't quite as good as last year's Retro Futura show. (It's hard to compete with "Safety Dance").
According to the Duckmeister, Tilles Center has already booked next year's Lost 80's Tour, and pending the lineup, I'd definitely come back.
(OK, so this was still Russian-novel length. but at least this time, most of it was actually about the show.)
Ciao, people!
Sunday, August 5, 2018
Monday, July 30, 2018
Review of Barns Courtney's "The Attractions of Youth"
I posted this review a few minutes ago on the Sputnik Music website:
This album just missed my Top Ten list last year. Barnaby George ("Barns") Courtney is one of these guys who put in his time sleeping on people's sofas and in his girlfriend's car while he was trying to start a career in the music business. He's a gentleman of British/Croatian extraction who spent half of his life living in the UK, and the other half living in Seattle. His musical style combines folk and blues rock, and yet he's been making fans on both the pop and alternative circuits. Most importantly, he's got an ear for what's catchy, which makes his music radio-friendly without being frivolous.
The Attractions of Youth is Courtney's first LP. You might not think you've heard of him, but odds are you've heard at least snippets from this album. This is because Courtney has such a sense of what makes a song both memorable and commercial that in addition to having done well on the music charts, he's been making a killing over the last two years through licensing. "Fire", his best-known number, not only charted on four different Billboard charts, it's been used in a host of films, television shows and commercials. Another of the tracks on this album, "Glitter & Gold" has had similar licensing prosperity. And a third track, "Champion" has become popular at sporting events, and was used in the UK as part of the Rugby League World Cup ad campaign.
Please don't get the impression that he's all about the fluff, though. While I'd have to admit that "Champion" may be just a little bit cheesy, there are some really solid songs on Attractions. "Fire" totally deserves the success it's had as a single, and another track called "Hellfire" is one of those scary-things-going-on-in-the-woods songs that reminds me a little of some of the work of the band Lord Huron. Another track, "Kicks" has this weird chorus of assorted creatures that sounds like it could be part of festive Halloween Party in purgatory. And a fourth song, "Rather Die" is a fast-paced track with a lot of movement that makes you want to clap along to it.
In all, The Attractions of Youth is a really strong debut album. I recommend it without hesitation, and I look forward to seeing how Courtney's career develops from here.
Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars
Review Summary: A strong debut album by an artist with a knack for writing catchy and commercially viable tunes.
This album just missed my Top Ten list last year. Barnaby George ("Barns") Courtney is one of these guys who put in his time sleeping on people's sofas and in his girlfriend's car while he was trying to start a career in the music business. He's a gentleman of British/Croatian extraction who spent half of his life living in the UK, and the other half living in Seattle. His musical style combines folk and blues rock, and yet he's been making fans on both the pop and alternative circuits. Most importantly, he's got an ear for what's catchy, which makes his music radio-friendly without being frivolous.
The Attractions of Youth is Courtney's first LP. You might not think you've heard of him, but odds are you've heard at least snippets from this album. This is because Courtney has such a sense of what makes a song both memorable and commercial that in addition to having done well on the music charts, he's been making a killing over the last two years through licensing. "Fire", his best-known number, not only charted on four different Billboard charts, it's been used in a host of films, television shows and commercials. Another of the tracks on this album, "Glitter & Gold" has had similar licensing prosperity. And a third track, "Champion" has become popular at sporting events, and was used in the UK as part of the Rugby League World Cup ad campaign.
Please don't get the impression that he's all about the fluff, though. While I'd have to admit that "Champion" may be just a little bit cheesy, there are some really solid songs on Attractions. "Fire" totally deserves the success it's had as a single, and another track called "Hellfire" is one of those scary-things-going-on-in-the-woods songs that reminds me a little of some of the work of the band Lord Huron. Another track, "Kicks" has this weird chorus of assorted creatures that sounds like it could be part of festive Halloween Party in purgatory. And a fourth song, "Rather Die" is a fast-paced track with a lot of movement that makes you want to clap along to it.
In all, The Attractions of Youth is a really strong debut album. I recommend it without hesitation, and I look forward to seeing how Courtney's career develops from here.
Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars
Sunday, July 29, 2018
Tom Bailey, The B-52s and Culture Club
This is another one of those concerts that has a saga attached to it, so might want to get a cold drink and even a snack.
We bought these tickets months ago, towards the beginning of the year. Denise noticed these three acts were playing together, so she wanted to get tickets. Then we saw they were playing at the Forest Hills Tennis Stadium, and while we've both seen some good shows there in the past, there are issues with the place. (More on both of those things to come.) Then we saw the show was also making a stop upstate at the Turning Stone Hotel and Casino, and we decided to get tickets up there. We've been to shows there in the past, and our kids have family up there, so we usually find ourselves up that way during the summer at some point anyway. But then we saw that Tom Bailey wasn't playing the Turning Stone show, and that was a bit of a deal breaker. For those not familiar with his name, he's the singer/songwriter for the new wave band Thompson Twins. Neither myself, nor (amazingly) Denise have ever seen Thompson Twins live, so we figured this was as close as we were ever likely to get. We've seen the B-52s numerous times, as they are probably Denise's favorite band, and we've seen Culture Club, too, so seeing Mr. Bailey was the one important first for both of us. I looked up the Forest Hills LIRR stop, and saw it was part of the Babylon line, so we figured at very least, we could drive to Babylon, park across the street from our old friend, the (former) Pisces Cafe, and take the train there. So we bought the tickets. But as I said, this decision happened back at the beginning of the year. Oh, how young and foolish we were back then!
Flash forward six months, and as I've detailed on these pages, there's been some trouble on the home front. But things have been pretty quiet the last few weeks, so we figured we could get out together for at least the one night. (And that part actually worked out pretty well.) Earlier this week, however, when we started trying to look up the actual transportation, we were getting some funny contradictions out of the LIRR website. In some spots, it appeared as if there were no trains going to Forest Hills this weekend. Also, we realized that the show was scheduled for a 6PM start, and I started remembering there might be some problems parking in Babylon during the afternoon on a Saturday. (And I wasn't sure if this was one of those perverse LIRR parking lots were you have to have a permit from the town to park there. For all the nights we parked our butts across the street from the railroad station at the Pisces, or around the corner at the Joe Michael's Steakhouse, I don't think we ever actually took the train from Babylon before).
In any event, we (I -- I'm way more insane than poor Denise could ever hope to be) came up with this elaborate plan. Denise believed that what the train schedules were pointing to was that there was track work being done in and around the Forest Hills station, and that in order to get there, you had to take the train to Jamaica, then transfer to a shuttle train to Forest Hills. (This turned out to be correct, in both directions.) My addition to the plan was I finally remembered this week that in order to get to the stadium back in the '80s, there was a bus from Jewel Ave.and 164th St. in Flushing to Queens Blvd. and Continental in Forest Hills. (I grew up living in Flushing). So that was our (my) backup plan for if the trains weren't running, or we couldn't park in Babylon.
Now I actually considered earlier this week getting a ticket for the night before for the show at Jones Beach. Bush, The Cult and Stone Temple Pilots were playing. I was a little into STP in the '90s, although I always felt they were copying every other band out there a lot. And there are a few songs of The Cult I like. But if I had gone, it really would have been to see Bush. They're not exactly my favorite band, but I like them enough that I generally always buy their latest album. In the end, I decided not to go, for three reasons. The first was the weather was predicting lightning storms, and I really didn't want to be sitting at the top of the stadium in Jones Beach dodging lightning bolts. The second is that I looked up the setlists the bands have been playing at setlist.fm, and I found that Bush was mostly playing stuff from their first album. I was really more interested in hearing newer stuff. Finally, Denise had the chance to go to a dinner with some old high school friends of hers on that night, so this cemented it for me. I figured that while things have been going OK at home for the last couple of weeks, it was best not to push it by the two of us being out two nights in a row. So I took a quiet, restful night at home, which was probably just as well.
I haven't been to the Forest Hills Tennis Stadium since the '80s, when I saw the Martha and the Muffins/Howard Jones/Eurythmics show (which I really believe is the first time I ever set eyes on Denise - I swear that she and her friends were sitting in the row in front of me), and a few weeks later, the Yes 90125 tour show. (I think that might have been the last year they had concerts there for a long, long time). But I remember it as being a lot of walking to get into the venue. I knew the LIRR station wasn't too far away, but I knew for a fact that there is literally no parking anywhere near the arena, and there was a lot of walking involved to get into it.
I went to bed fairly early (for me) on Friday night, enough so to ensure that I had about nine hours of sleep. For most of the last few hours, I dreamed an extended dream that involved a season opener for The Walking Dead that followed a season closer that has never actually occurred. The prior season ended with a huge building explosion, and the new season started a year later, on July 4th, the anniversary of the explosion. There were no zombies (walkers) to be found anywhere in the dream, but the show depicted the fallout from the explosion. The building had been rebuilt, and was just about to be reopened. Sheriff Rick Grimes was there, as was this horrible old woman who was the widow of the villain he had killed at the end of last season. She was out to get Rick. Then there were these weird young Romanian women, who were obviously going to be one of the threats of the new season. They were looking to carve up any "British women" they could find, because "British women are too pretty." The show also showed you what was going on with some our favorite ongoing characters, such as Daryl, and Kathy Fleischmann. (I swear to you this last part is true. My psyche is a frightened, and tortuous place.)
Alright, this is the eighth paragraph of this post, so I guess I should start telling you about the day of the show, huh?
We got to Babylon and parked with no problem, and as Denise paid for the parking, I went inside to get the train tickets. There I learned that Denise's info had been correct, and that the trains were running, but we would have to transfer at Jamaica there and back. OK, fine.
We boarded the train from Babylon, and I spent most of the ride playing peek-a-boo with a kid a few rows away. (I think it was a girl, although Denise swears it was a boy). This was a little tiring, but when we first boarded the train, the kid cried and whined for the first two or three stops while its Mom completely ignored it, so playing peek-a-boo and making the kid laugh was a lot better than listening to it cry for an hour.
As we approached the Jamaica stop, an important announcement came over the speaker about the transfer to Forest Hills. At least, I assume it was important. But thanks to the crack LIRR speaker system, about the only words we could make out were "Forest Hills" three or four times.
When we got to Jamaica, the train opened on both sides. There was another similarly garbled announcement happening on the platform about the shuttle train to Forest Hills. As the doors to the train we had just gotten off closed, we realized that the announcement had been telling us we should have gotten off on the other side of the train. There was what appeared to be the next train to Forest Hills ready and waiting on the other side of the track. So we ran like hell (for us, although I'm pretty sure our "running" looked pretty snail-like to the people around us). We hiked up the stairs, across, and back down, breathlessly hoping to catch the Forest Hills train. Then we learned from a worker on the platform that the train in front of us, which clearly said "Forest Hills", was only going to the yard anyway due to engine troubles. So we sat down in a pair of empty seats in an enclosed area on the sweltering platform, and sucked in some oxygen. (It always amuses me that public officials always encourage everyone to take public transportation everywhere as often as possible. But they make sure that when you actually do take public transportation, it's a godawful experience. Here's my message for the masses. Never take public transportation, if you can possibly avoid it. Take your car everywhere, environment be damned. You'll be much happier if you do.)
Our shuttle train eventually came along. While Denise used the on-car restroom, I commiserated with a guy who liked a lot like Mike Ferrari about how much the LIRR sucked, and how confusing it was to try to get the story on the trains to this concert from their website.
We arrived at Forest Hills at about 4:20PM. We were supposed to have a meetup with some of Denise's friends from her LIRR group. We entered the place, a noisy and crowded little bar/restaurant, where every table was taken and the music was so ear-splitting that any and all conversation was impossible. I used their restroom, while Denise searched vainly for her friends. By the time I was done with my business, she was also done with hers, and we decided to go next door to McDonald's and sit for a bit. Once there, we ran into Denise's friend Lisa, a former Forest Hills resident who now lives in Israel. (She's visiting NY for a few weeks right now, but Denise is always telling me that she sees Lisa posting concert videos in the middle of our work day, as there's about an eight-hour time difference between us and Israel). We had our own little meetup at McDonald's, and Denise checked her phone. She learned that her friend Ernie, who had organized the meetup next door, had to stay home from the concert because he was ill, which was why no one could find each other -- everyone was looking for him.
During the course of the day, we had learned that Tom Bailey was actually scheduled to hit the stage at 5:45PM, so at about 5, we started heading over to the stadium. (Lisa went her own way, to meet with the friend who had her ticket.) As I remembered, it was a bit of a hike. Once you get inside the grounds of the stadium, you have to walk all the way down and around to go through a gate where you can get into the main part of the stadium itself. I was actually still feeling pretty good at this point. (One of the issues I had with this show was that when we bought the tickets 6 months ago, I had started exercising, and thought I'd be in much better shape by the summer. But what's the old expression -- "Man makes plans, and God laughs"?) We got to our seats, which were floor level, a little to the left of center stage, in the next-to-last row on the floor. I got us some waters, and we settled in to enjoy the show.
We each pointed out where we had been sitting at that fateful Eurythmics show, and sure enough, it was pretty much the same area. (Of course, a lot of WLIR people had been there for that show. While we were discussing it at the McDonald's, we learned that Linda had been there too).
The sun was still pretty hot at this point, although I could see that within twenty minutes or so, as it settled, we'd be in the shade. But it was really humid. And after taking the long hike into the stadium, and getting all sweaty, sitting in the humidity got to be really draining. I was tired, and even though I showered before we left, I was pretty sure I smelled like a gnu.
As we sat, a fellow who had his own press pass came over and asked if we wanted to sit up front further -- he had two tickets he wasn't going to use. But I had a little elbow room back where we were, and didn't want to get squashed in the middle of a row, so we thanked him and declined. He then offered them to the couple next to Denise, who jumped at the chance. This worked out well for us anyway, because it gave Denise the chance to move over, and have an empty chair on either side of her, and I had the same.
Right before the show started, I got a text from my daughter. She'd spoken to her uncle, and wanted to find out if we could get her upstate soon for her sister's birthday. I've detailed for you a little bit of going back and forth upstate for a pair of consecutive weekends recently with our son (and the great Erasure debacle), and I was really hoping to not make this trip again anytime soon. I don't blame my daughter for texting us about it, but this immediately got my mind working on twin tracks. The first was the logistics of getting her up there, as we have a bunch of commitments coming up over the next few weeks. The second was considering the most creative way to off myself. (I eventually settled on piranhas, although I'm not sure where to find any on Long Island. I'm thinking the Riverhead Aquarium?) The thought of driving up there again anytime soon is exhausting and depressing.
Tom Bailey soon took the stage. It was still daylight, and he immediately commented on the heat. He was fronting a 3-piece, all-female band (very Josie and the Pussycats), which included a keyboardists, a second keyboardist who doubled on bass, and an electronic drummer. I actually enjoyed his set quite a bit. He played a bunch of Thompson Twin songs, plus a pair of pretty good synth-based songs from a new solo album he just released, Science Fiction. He naturally closed with "Hold Me Now", the Thompson Twins' best song (and one that Denise's old band The Slant used to do a pretty nice cover of). His set felt much too short.
A few words on the logistics of our seats. As I said, we were at the very back of the floor section. This meant that as soon as anyone got up to dance, we couldn't see anything. This wasn't as much of an issue for Denise, as she likes to get up there and dance with them. But I kind of like to just sit in my own quiet head space and enjoy the music. (Especially in the heat and humidity). And unlike most modern arenas, the Forest Hills Tennis Stadium hasn't invested in overhead video screens. (I believe someone asked them about it once, and their response was, "Pish posh!"or "Overhead screens, overhead shmeens", something like that. I read it online somewhere). Anyway, this wasn't too bad for Bailey's set, as people were just settling into the stadium. But once the B-52s went on, I never saw the stage again.
As the B's took the stage, the sky opened up with a brief sun shower. It didn't cool anything off at all, just got us wet. But it reminded me of that Eurythmics show, when the skies opened up during Howard Jones's set.
The B's opened up with "Planet Claire", which sounded good. At least I think it was them, although for all I could see, the stadium could have just been playing the album over the sound system. (I stood up for just a second, and sort of got a brief glimpse of Fred in a bright yellow shirt, Kate wearing an electric reddish wig, and Cindy in what I think was a blonde wig.)
Now unbeknownst to me, these two middle-aged inebriated couples had slid into seats in the row behind us, over my left shoulder. (Oh yeah. You can already kind of see where this one is going, can't you?). The seats to my left (in front of them) were empty. The B's announced their second song, "Dance This Mess Around", and started it off slowly. (The song sounded a little sloppy in the beginning, to be honest.) They hit a weird interlude, then went rocking back into the song, this time at full speed. As they did so, I was jolted from my plastic seat. The one drunk moron behind me was going crazy as the B's rocked out, and using my row of seats as a drum set. My head spun around in shock at the sudden bouncing, and I'm sure he saw it. His wife (girlfriend?) did too, and said something to him, at which point he begrudgingly stopped banging. But for the rest of the set, every time the B's went into an energetic number, he'd start banging again until she stopped him. Of course, when you enter the stadium, they check for weapons. But I contemplated whether I could use my car keys to dig both of his eyes out. (He was so wasted, I doubt he'd have even missed them.)
So this was pretty much how it was through the whole set. On the other side of me, Denise danced away, enjoying her favorite band, oblivious to the fact that I was seriously wondering if I was going to wind up in a fight with this guy. As for the band, although they, too, commented on the heat (and temperature-wise, it wasn't even that hot, maybe about 80 degrees or by this time, in the upper seventies -- it was really all about the humidity), but they were mostly pretty good ... except. Kate's voice sounded lovely, clear and strong. Fred sounded ... well, like Fred. But Cindy. Cindy, Cindy, Cindy. Cindy has had some vocal problems at certain shows we've seen in the past. And possibly because of the heat, those problems took front and center tonight. It wasn't so bad when she was harmonizing. But when she took her leads, it sounded as though she must have gargled with battery acid before the show. As much as Denise was enjoying herself, even she made faces several times, as Cindy croaked her way through "Roam" and "Give Me Back My Man." Of course, her vocal issues never slowed down the Little Drummer Boy behind me, who was blissfully oblivious to everything except the basic beat of every song, and when it was time to go for another beer.
Yeah, I know it's a show. And if you think I'm unaware of what a sour pain in the ass I can be sometimes, I can tell you I'm not. I try to keep a rein on it, because I don't want to spoil Denise's good time. But this is me, I'm afraid, in all my annoying (and easily annoyed) glory. (There was a point about ten years ago where I used to write a blog called "The Grumpy Traveler". If they ever publish a magazine called Curmudgeon's Life, or The Misanthrope Monthly, I'll be the first too subscribe).
But I should tell you, there's some history here to my impatience with drunks. Part of my extended family had some issues with alcohol, and I had to deal with some sloppy drunks from when I was a young kid. When I was in my late teens and early twenties, like a lot of young men, I used to drink a lot myself. Then one year, I started to worry that maybe I had a problem with it, and I made a New Year's resolution to give up drinking for a month. It was harder to keep than anything I'd ever done before, especially because I had some "friends" who repeatedly tried their best to get me to break my promise to myself ("We really respect what you're doing, and I'm sure none of us would think any less of you if just had one drink tonight.") After the month was over, I won't say that I never drank again, but I had a completely different relationship with alcohol. And for the last thirty years or so, I've become the kind of person who might have a cold beer once or twice a year during the summer heat, and maybe a glass of champagne on New Year's Eve, but that's about it. Unfortunately, I've also lost all tolerance for drunks. I discovered how obnoxious most drunk people are when you're sober yourself, and at the same time, I've become that one person that every drunk in the bar seems to want to latch onto while they ramble on endlessly with their mind-numbing intoxicated stories. It's like being that one person in the room who's afraid of animals -- cats and dogs just naturally gravitate towards you.
Anyway, the B's closed up as you would expect with "Love Shack" and "Rock Lobster", and the mostly full stadium seemed to love it.
So up last was Culture Club. This was kind of a surprise to me, because I assumed The B-52's would be the headliners. But that probably has to do with how I value those two bands. Here's a secret just between the two of us ... I don't give a damn about Culture Club. I like "Karma Chameleon" (and it kind of came back to me during their set that I like of few of their other songs besides, including "I'll Tumble 4 Ya", "Time (Clock of the Heart)" and especially "Miss Me Blind"), but I've just never been into their style. And if I had been at the show by myself, I promise you, I'd have left right after "Rock Lobster". (Maybe even before, given the circumstances). I did see them once before, at Jones Beach, but that was largely because someone I liked a lot better was opening. (I want to say Human League, but it could have been The Psychedelic Furs also -- there are two different shows we saw during that same summer that mix together in my head). Culture Club did win me over a little that night, mostly because we were sitting in the handicapped area, and there were a group of kids in wheelchairs who were so excited, and were having such a good time (and I think George might have even made a point of coming over and singing directly to them at one point), and I thought to myself that anyone who could make kids like that so happy can't be all bad. But in truth, I like a lot more synthesizer and a lot less funk/Motown influence in my '80s music, so Culture Club isn't really my thing.
At some point, either during the very end of the B's set, or the intermission between bands, some rather stocky lady who was there by herself plopped herself down in one of the seats to my left, directly in front of where you-know-who was sitting (bless her heart). She did this while he was out getting his group another round of beers. So when Culture Club came on, he couldn't really wallop the seat in front of him anymore, because she was sitting there. For the rest of the night, he had to pretty much content himself with just screaming, "Whoooooo! WHOOOOOOOOO!" in my ear at the top of his lungs.
Anyway, Culture Club. They were quite tight as a band, and George was in fine voice. He told funny little anecdotes throughout the night (although at times, he seemed a little frustrated with trying to get the tired and very overheated crowd to engage more). I wasn't much into the set -- the heat, and the drunk, and their style of music all saw to that -- but I can objectively say that they sounded really good. (And well they should have -- when I finally stood up during "Karma Chameleon", their last song, I saw that he literally had what I counted to be a 12-piece band behind him). In addition to most of Culture Club's hits, they opened with Bowie's "Let's Dance" (a pretty good fit for them, I'd have to admit), and at one point during the encore, they played Robert Palmer's "Addicted to Love" -- never my favorite song, but the crowd seemed to like it.
So that was the show. For whatever reason, the hike back to the train station seemed twice as long as the hike there had been, but we got through it. We caught both of our train connections relatively quickly, and arrived back in Babylon at about 11:30. I went across the street to stand in front of what used to be the Pisces Cafe, and sang one sad chorus of the title track from Tom Cavanagh's The Pisces Rock Opera (well, I did this in my heart anyway). Then, were so tired that we drove directly home without even stopping for food.
As for The Forest Hills Tennis Stadium, it's a good place to see a show ... if you live nearby in Queens! If you live anywhere else, the logistics of getting there and back are such a pain in the ass that you'd have to be insane to go there. (Well, maybe next year. We'll see.)
Hasta bananas, people.
We bought these tickets months ago, towards the beginning of the year. Denise noticed these three acts were playing together, so she wanted to get tickets. Then we saw they were playing at the Forest Hills Tennis Stadium, and while we've both seen some good shows there in the past, there are issues with the place. (More on both of those things to come.) Then we saw the show was also making a stop upstate at the Turning Stone Hotel and Casino, and we decided to get tickets up there. We've been to shows there in the past, and our kids have family up there, so we usually find ourselves up that way during the summer at some point anyway. But then we saw that Tom Bailey wasn't playing the Turning Stone show, and that was a bit of a deal breaker. For those not familiar with his name, he's the singer/songwriter for the new wave band Thompson Twins. Neither myself, nor (amazingly) Denise have ever seen Thompson Twins live, so we figured this was as close as we were ever likely to get. We've seen the B-52s numerous times, as they are probably Denise's favorite band, and we've seen Culture Club, too, so seeing Mr. Bailey was the one important first for both of us. I looked up the Forest Hills LIRR stop, and saw it was part of the Babylon line, so we figured at very least, we could drive to Babylon, park across the street from our old friend, the (former) Pisces Cafe, and take the train there. So we bought the tickets. But as I said, this decision happened back at the beginning of the year. Oh, how young and foolish we were back then!
Flash forward six months, and as I've detailed on these pages, there's been some trouble on the home front. But things have been pretty quiet the last few weeks, so we figured we could get out together for at least the one night. (And that part actually worked out pretty well.) Earlier this week, however, when we started trying to look up the actual transportation, we were getting some funny contradictions out of the LIRR website. In some spots, it appeared as if there were no trains going to Forest Hills this weekend. Also, we realized that the show was scheduled for a 6PM start, and I started remembering there might be some problems parking in Babylon during the afternoon on a Saturday. (And I wasn't sure if this was one of those perverse LIRR parking lots were you have to have a permit from the town to park there. For all the nights we parked our butts across the street from the railroad station at the Pisces, or around the corner at the Joe Michael's Steakhouse, I don't think we ever actually took the train from Babylon before).
In any event, we (I -- I'm way more insane than poor Denise could ever hope to be) came up with this elaborate plan. Denise believed that what the train schedules were pointing to was that there was track work being done in and around the Forest Hills station, and that in order to get there, you had to take the train to Jamaica, then transfer to a shuttle train to Forest Hills. (This turned out to be correct, in both directions.) My addition to the plan was I finally remembered this week that in order to get to the stadium back in the '80s, there was a bus from Jewel Ave.and 164th St. in Flushing to Queens Blvd. and Continental in Forest Hills. (I grew up living in Flushing). So that was our (my) backup plan for if the trains weren't running, or we couldn't park in Babylon.
Now I actually considered earlier this week getting a ticket for the night before for the show at Jones Beach. Bush, The Cult and Stone Temple Pilots were playing. I was a little into STP in the '90s, although I always felt they were copying every other band out there a lot. And there are a few songs of The Cult I like. But if I had gone, it really would have been to see Bush. They're not exactly my favorite band, but I like them enough that I generally always buy their latest album. In the end, I decided not to go, for three reasons. The first was the weather was predicting lightning storms, and I really didn't want to be sitting at the top of the stadium in Jones Beach dodging lightning bolts. The second is that I looked up the setlists the bands have been playing at setlist.fm, and I found that Bush was mostly playing stuff from their first album. I was really more interested in hearing newer stuff. Finally, Denise had the chance to go to a dinner with some old high school friends of hers on that night, so this cemented it for me. I figured that while things have been going OK at home for the last couple of weeks, it was best not to push it by the two of us being out two nights in a row. So I took a quiet, restful night at home, which was probably just as well.
I haven't been to the Forest Hills Tennis Stadium since the '80s, when I saw the Martha and the Muffins/Howard Jones/Eurythmics show (which I really believe is the first time I ever set eyes on Denise - I swear that she and her friends were sitting in the row in front of me), and a few weeks later, the Yes 90125 tour show. (I think that might have been the last year they had concerts there for a long, long time). But I remember it as being a lot of walking to get into the venue. I knew the LIRR station wasn't too far away, but I knew for a fact that there is literally no parking anywhere near the arena, and there was a lot of walking involved to get into it.
I went to bed fairly early (for me) on Friday night, enough so to ensure that I had about nine hours of sleep. For most of the last few hours, I dreamed an extended dream that involved a season opener for The Walking Dead that followed a season closer that has never actually occurred. The prior season ended with a huge building explosion, and the new season started a year later, on July 4th, the anniversary of the explosion. There were no zombies (walkers) to be found anywhere in the dream, but the show depicted the fallout from the explosion. The building had been rebuilt, and was just about to be reopened. Sheriff Rick Grimes was there, as was this horrible old woman who was the widow of the villain he had killed at the end of last season. She was out to get Rick. Then there were these weird young Romanian women, who were obviously going to be one of the threats of the new season. They were looking to carve up any "British women" they could find, because "British women are too pretty." The show also showed you what was going on with some our favorite ongoing characters, such as Daryl, and Kathy Fleischmann. (I swear to you this last part is true. My psyche is a frightened, and tortuous place.)
Alright, this is the eighth paragraph of this post, so I guess I should start telling you about the day of the show, huh?
We got to Babylon and parked with no problem, and as Denise paid for the parking, I went inside to get the train tickets. There I learned that Denise's info had been correct, and that the trains were running, but we would have to transfer at Jamaica there and back. OK, fine.
We boarded the train from Babylon, and I spent most of the ride playing peek-a-boo with a kid a few rows away. (I think it was a girl, although Denise swears it was a boy). This was a little tiring, but when we first boarded the train, the kid cried and whined for the first two or three stops while its Mom completely ignored it, so playing peek-a-boo and making the kid laugh was a lot better than listening to it cry for an hour.
As we approached the Jamaica stop, an important announcement came over the speaker about the transfer to Forest Hills. At least, I assume it was important. But thanks to the crack LIRR speaker system, about the only words we could make out were "Forest Hills" three or four times.
When we got to Jamaica, the train opened on both sides. There was another similarly garbled announcement happening on the platform about the shuttle train to Forest Hills. As the doors to the train we had just gotten off closed, we realized that the announcement had been telling us we should have gotten off on the other side of the train. There was what appeared to be the next train to Forest Hills ready and waiting on the other side of the track. So we ran like hell (for us, although I'm pretty sure our "running" looked pretty snail-like to the people around us). We hiked up the stairs, across, and back down, breathlessly hoping to catch the Forest Hills train. Then we learned from a worker on the platform that the train in front of us, which clearly said "Forest Hills", was only going to the yard anyway due to engine troubles. So we sat down in a pair of empty seats in an enclosed area on the sweltering platform, and sucked in some oxygen. (It always amuses me that public officials always encourage everyone to take public transportation everywhere as often as possible. But they make sure that when you actually do take public transportation, it's a godawful experience. Here's my message for the masses. Never take public transportation, if you can possibly avoid it. Take your car everywhere, environment be damned. You'll be much happier if you do.)
Our shuttle train eventually came along. While Denise used the on-car restroom, I commiserated with a guy who liked a lot like Mike Ferrari about how much the LIRR sucked, and how confusing it was to try to get the story on the trains to this concert from their website.
We arrived at Forest Hills at about 4:20PM. We were supposed to have a meetup with some of Denise's friends from her LIRR group. We entered the place, a noisy and crowded little bar/restaurant, where every table was taken and the music was so ear-splitting that any and all conversation was impossible. I used their restroom, while Denise searched vainly for her friends. By the time I was done with my business, she was also done with hers, and we decided to go next door to McDonald's and sit for a bit. Once there, we ran into Denise's friend Lisa, a former Forest Hills resident who now lives in Israel. (She's visiting NY for a few weeks right now, but Denise is always telling me that she sees Lisa posting concert videos in the middle of our work day, as there's about an eight-hour time difference between us and Israel). We had our own little meetup at McDonald's, and Denise checked her phone. She learned that her friend Ernie, who had organized the meetup next door, had to stay home from the concert because he was ill, which was why no one could find each other -- everyone was looking for him.
During the course of the day, we had learned that Tom Bailey was actually scheduled to hit the stage at 5:45PM, so at about 5, we started heading over to the stadium. (Lisa went her own way, to meet with the friend who had her ticket.) As I remembered, it was a bit of a hike. Once you get inside the grounds of the stadium, you have to walk all the way down and around to go through a gate where you can get into the main part of the stadium itself. I was actually still feeling pretty good at this point. (One of the issues I had with this show was that when we bought the tickets 6 months ago, I had started exercising, and thought I'd be in much better shape by the summer. But what's the old expression -- "Man makes plans, and God laughs"?) We got to our seats, which were floor level, a little to the left of center stage, in the next-to-last row on the floor. I got us some waters, and we settled in to enjoy the show.
We each pointed out where we had been sitting at that fateful Eurythmics show, and sure enough, it was pretty much the same area. (Of course, a lot of WLIR people had been there for that show. While we were discussing it at the McDonald's, we learned that Linda had been there too).
The sun was still pretty hot at this point, although I could see that within twenty minutes or so, as it settled, we'd be in the shade. But it was really humid. And after taking the long hike into the stadium, and getting all sweaty, sitting in the humidity got to be really draining. I was tired, and even though I showered before we left, I was pretty sure I smelled like a gnu.
As we sat, a fellow who had his own press pass came over and asked if we wanted to sit up front further -- he had two tickets he wasn't going to use. But I had a little elbow room back where we were, and didn't want to get squashed in the middle of a row, so we thanked him and declined. He then offered them to the couple next to Denise, who jumped at the chance. This worked out well for us anyway, because it gave Denise the chance to move over, and have an empty chair on either side of her, and I had the same.
Right before the show started, I got a text from my daughter. She'd spoken to her uncle, and wanted to find out if we could get her upstate soon for her sister's birthday. I've detailed for you a little bit of going back and forth upstate for a pair of consecutive weekends recently with our son (and the great Erasure debacle), and I was really hoping to not make this trip again anytime soon. I don't blame my daughter for texting us about it, but this immediately got my mind working on twin tracks. The first was the logistics of getting her up there, as we have a bunch of commitments coming up over the next few weeks. The second was considering the most creative way to off myself. (I eventually settled on piranhas, although I'm not sure where to find any on Long Island. I'm thinking the Riverhead Aquarium?) The thought of driving up there again anytime soon is exhausting and depressing.
Tom Bailey soon took the stage. It was still daylight, and he immediately commented on the heat. He was fronting a 3-piece, all-female band (very Josie and the Pussycats), which included a keyboardists, a second keyboardist who doubled on bass, and an electronic drummer. I actually enjoyed his set quite a bit. He played a bunch of Thompson Twin songs, plus a pair of pretty good synth-based songs from a new solo album he just released, Science Fiction. He naturally closed with "Hold Me Now", the Thompson Twins' best song (and one that Denise's old band The Slant used to do a pretty nice cover of). His set felt much too short.
A few words on the logistics of our seats. As I said, we were at the very back of the floor section. This meant that as soon as anyone got up to dance, we couldn't see anything. This wasn't as much of an issue for Denise, as she likes to get up there and dance with them. But I kind of like to just sit in my own quiet head space and enjoy the music. (Especially in the heat and humidity). And unlike most modern arenas, the Forest Hills Tennis Stadium hasn't invested in overhead video screens. (I believe someone asked them about it once, and their response was, "Pish posh!"or "Overhead screens, overhead shmeens", something like that. I read it online somewhere). Anyway, this wasn't too bad for Bailey's set, as people were just settling into the stadium. But once the B-52s went on, I never saw the stage again.
As the B's took the stage, the sky opened up with a brief sun shower. It didn't cool anything off at all, just got us wet. But it reminded me of that Eurythmics show, when the skies opened up during Howard Jones's set.
The B's opened up with "Planet Claire", which sounded good. At least I think it was them, although for all I could see, the stadium could have just been playing the album over the sound system. (I stood up for just a second, and sort of got a brief glimpse of Fred in a bright yellow shirt, Kate wearing an electric reddish wig, and Cindy in what I think was a blonde wig.)
Now unbeknownst to me, these two middle-aged inebriated couples had slid into seats in the row behind us, over my left shoulder. (Oh yeah. You can already kind of see where this one is going, can't you?). The seats to my left (in front of them) were empty. The B's announced their second song, "Dance This Mess Around", and started it off slowly. (The song sounded a little sloppy in the beginning, to be honest.) They hit a weird interlude, then went rocking back into the song, this time at full speed. As they did so, I was jolted from my plastic seat. The one drunk moron behind me was going crazy as the B's rocked out, and using my row of seats as a drum set. My head spun around in shock at the sudden bouncing, and I'm sure he saw it. His wife (girlfriend?) did too, and said something to him, at which point he begrudgingly stopped banging. But for the rest of the set, every time the B's went into an energetic number, he'd start banging again until she stopped him. Of course, when you enter the stadium, they check for weapons. But I contemplated whether I could use my car keys to dig both of his eyes out. (He was so wasted, I doubt he'd have even missed them.)
So this was pretty much how it was through the whole set. On the other side of me, Denise danced away, enjoying her favorite band, oblivious to the fact that I was seriously wondering if I was going to wind up in a fight with this guy. As for the band, although they, too, commented on the heat (and temperature-wise, it wasn't even that hot, maybe about 80 degrees or by this time, in the upper seventies -- it was really all about the humidity), but they were mostly pretty good ... except. Kate's voice sounded lovely, clear and strong. Fred sounded ... well, like Fred. But Cindy. Cindy, Cindy, Cindy. Cindy has had some vocal problems at certain shows we've seen in the past. And possibly because of the heat, those problems took front and center tonight. It wasn't so bad when she was harmonizing. But when she took her leads, it sounded as though she must have gargled with battery acid before the show. As much as Denise was enjoying herself, even she made faces several times, as Cindy croaked her way through "Roam" and "Give Me Back My Man." Of course, her vocal issues never slowed down the Little Drummer Boy behind me, who was blissfully oblivious to everything except the basic beat of every song, and when it was time to go for another beer.
Yeah, I know it's a show. And if you think I'm unaware of what a sour pain in the ass I can be sometimes, I can tell you I'm not. I try to keep a rein on it, because I don't want to spoil Denise's good time. But this is me, I'm afraid, in all my annoying (and easily annoyed) glory. (There was a point about ten years ago where I used to write a blog called "The Grumpy Traveler". If they ever publish a magazine called Curmudgeon's Life, or The Misanthrope Monthly, I'll be the first too subscribe).
But I should tell you, there's some history here to my impatience with drunks. Part of my extended family had some issues with alcohol, and I had to deal with some sloppy drunks from when I was a young kid. When I was in my late teens and early twenties, like a lot of young men, I used to drink a lot myself. Then one year, I started to worry that maybe I had a problem with it, and I made a New Year's resolution to give up drinking for a month. It was harder to keep than anything I'd ever done before, especially because I had some "friends" who repeatedly tried their best to get me to break my promise to myself ("We really respect what you're doing, and I'm sure none of us would think any less of you if just had one drink tonight.") After the month was over, I won't say that I never drank again, but I had a completely different relationship with alcohol. And for the last thirty years or so, I've become the kind of person who might have a cold beer once or twice a year during the summer heat, and maybe a glass of champagne on New Year's Eve, but that's about it. Unfortunately, I've also lost all tolerance for drunks. I discovered how obnoxious most drunk people are when you're sober yourself, and at the same time, I've become that one person that every drunk in the bar seems to want to latch onto while they ramble on endlessly with their mind-numbing intoxicated stories. It's like being that one person in the room who's afraid of animals -- cats and dogs just naturally gravitate towards you.
Anyway, the B's closed up as you would expect with "Love Shack" and "Rock Lobster", and the mostly full stadium seemed to love it.
So up last was Culture Club. This was kind of a surprise to me, because I assumed The B-52's would be the headliners. But that probably has to do with how I value those two bands. Here's a secret just between the two of us ... I don't give a damn about Culture Club. I like "Karma Chameleon" (and it kind of came back to me during their set that I like of few of their other songs besides, including "I'll Tumble 4 Ya", "Time (Clock of the Heart)" and especially "Miss Me Blind"), but I've just never been into their style. And if I had been at the show by myself, I promise you, I'd have left right after "Rock Lobster". (Maybe even before, given the circumstances). I did see them once before, at Jones Beach, but that was largely because someone I liked a lot better was opening. (I want to say Human League, but it could have been The Psychedelic Furs also -- there are two different shows we saw during that same summer that mix together in my head). Culture Club did win me over a little that night, mostly because we were sitting in the handicapped area, and there were a group of kids in wheelchairs who were so excited, and were having such a good time (and I think George might have even made a point of coming over and singing directly to them at one point), and I thought to myself that anyone who could make kids like that so happy can't be all bad. But in truth, I like a lot more synthesizer and a lot less funk/Motown influence in my '80s music, so Culture Club isn't really my thing.
At some point, either during the very end of the B's set, or the intermission between bands, some rather stocky lady who was there by herself plopped herself down in one of the seats to my left, directly in front of where you-know-who was sitting (bless her heart). She did this while he was out getting his group another round of beers. So when Culture Club came on, he couldn't really wallop the seat in front of him anymore, because she was sitting there. For the rest of the night, he had to pretty much content himself with just screaming, "Whoooooo! WHOOOOOOOOO!" in my ear at the top of his lungs.
Anyway, Culture Club. They were quite tight as a band, and George was in fine voice. He told funny little anecdotes throughout the night (although at times, he seemed a little frustrated with trying to get the tired and very overheated crowd to engage more). I wasn't much into the set -- the heat, and the drunk, and their style of music all saw to that -- but I can objectively say that they sounded really good. (And well they should have -- when I finally stood up during "Karma Chameleon", their last song, I saw that he literally had what I counted to be a 12-piece band behind him). In addition to most of Culture Club's hits, they opened with Bowie's "Let's Dance" (a pretty good fit for them, I'd have to admit), and at one point during the encore, they played Robert Palmer's "Addicted to Love" -- never my favorite song, but the crowd seemed to like it.
So that was the show. For whatever reason, the hike back to the train station seemed twice as long as the hike there had been, but we got through it. We caught both of our train connections relatively quickly, and arrived back in Babylon at about 11:30. I went across the street to stand in front of what used to be the Pisces Cafe, and sang one sad chorus of the title track from Tom Cavanagh's The Pisces Rock Opera (well, I did this in my heart anyway). Then, were so tired that we drove directly home without even stopping for food.
As for The Forest Hills Tennis Stadium, it's a good place to see a show ... if you live nearby in Queens! If you live anywhere else, the logistics of getting there and back are such a pain in the ass that you'd have to be insane to go there. (Well, maybe next year. We'll see.)
Hasta bananas, people.
Thursday, July 26, 2018
Review of A Flock of Seagulls' "Ascension"
I posted this review a little while ago on the Sputnik Music website. And for Long Island fans who aren't aware, Mike Score's version of A Flock of Seagulls will be headlining on Long Island next Saturday, August 4, at the Tilles Center, joined by five other '80s band.
Now that many of the rock heroes of the sixties and seventies are either dying off or becoming too old to effectively play their instruments anymore, a strange new trend seems to be developing -- orchestral albums made by bands of the eighties-new-wave genre. While this seems less intuitive than, say, pairing an orchestra with seventies progressive rock (a genre that often featured a certain amount of classical musical influence anyway), it's actually working out OK. Last year, former Ultravox frontman released his Orchestrated album, which rose higher in the British charts than anything he's released since 1988; and earlier this year, Erasure released World Beyond, an orchestral version of their 2017 World Be Gone LP, which some listeners preferred to the original. Now comes Ascension, an orchestral rock album by the British 80's synth-pop band A Flock of Seagulls. And once again, the orchestral/new-wave blend comes off way better than you'd have any right to expect.
Part of the reason for this is that A Flock of Seagulls was always a more sophisticated band than the casual '80s dancehall kid might have been aware of. Yes, their look at the time was kind of silly, and made some people not take them seriously. But one listen to their 1982 eponymous LP, or there 1983 follow-up Listen is enough to make you realize that this is more than just some light little pop-singles band. Their 1984 concept album The Story of a Young Heart, while less commercially successful than the other two, is no slouch either.
Ascension reunites the classic Flock lineup of those first three albums (Mike Score on lead vocals, keyboards and guitar, his brother Ali Score on drums, Paul Reynolds on lead guitar, and Frank Maudsley on bass), and pairs them with the Prague Philharmonic Orchestra. The bad news is that the four Flock members were never in the same studio at the same time for the recording of this LP. (They're also not back together for a tour. The Flock that plays out live these days features Mike Score and a bunch of other guys). The good news is that they still sound pretty terrific.
Ascension features eleven of the band's greatest hits, plus one new song, all done up in a new orchestral arrangement. Five of the songs were originally recorded on their first LP, and four are from Listen. Only "The More You Live, the More You Love" was taken from The Story of a Young Heart, but that turns out to be one of the best tracks on the new LP. All of the Flock's best-known songs are here, including "Space Age Love Song", "I Ran", "Wishing (If I Had a Photograph of You)" and "Telecommunication".
Flock always created luxuriant musical soundscapes, powered in no small part by the textures of Reynolds' guitar work. Their songs have also always had a science fiction/outer space quality to them. Both of these characteristics of their music are well served here by the addition of the orchestra. As for the vocals, upon first listen to this LP, Mike Score's voice sounded different than I remembered it. As the album wore on, though, it became more and more familiar.
My complaints about Ascension are fairly minor ones. The first is the instrumental title track. As the one "new" song on the LP, I was hoping for great things (especially since they named the album after it). Unfortunately, it was a disappointment. It starts out in fine symphonic fashion, with music that is both dramatic and pretty. However, the whole track only lasts for a minute and twelve seconds; and halfway through it, familiar chords pop up, and it morphs into what is obviously nothing more than a grand intro for "Wishing". I love "Wishing" as much as anyone, but for being the only new number here, and the title track to boot, it felt like a bit of a ripoff. My second criticism is of the song "Man Made", the last track on the album. The arrangement is lovely, exceptthat there's this really annoying synthetic tinkling noise that goes on in the background for the entire length of the song. It's distracting, and serves to spoil an otherwise solid track.
Still, these are minor critiques. Overall, I found the music on Ascension to be lush and exciting. The addition of the orchestra helps to bring a fresh sound to this group of songs that have been around for about thirty-five years now. The album is strong enough to make me cautiously interested in hearing other symphonic new wave experiments. As for Flock of Seagulls, I'd love to see these four men get back together in earnest to create some new music. Ascension reminded me of just how excellent much of their old music was.
Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars
Review Summary: A Flock of Seagull's soaring new wave classics get a fresh orchestral makeover.
Now that many of the rock heroes of the sixties and seventies are either dying off or becoming too old to effectively play their instruments anymore, a strange new trend seems to be developing -- orchestral albums made by bands of the eighties-new-wave genre. While this seems less intuitive than, say, pairing an orchestra with seventies progressive rock (a genre that often featured a certain amount of classical musical influence anyway), it's actually working out OK. Last year, former Ultravox frontman released his Orchestrated album, which rose higher in the British charts than anything he's released since 1988; and earlier this year, Erasure released World Beyond, an orchestral version of their 2017 World Be Gone LP, which some listeners preferred to the original. Now comes Ascension, an orchestral rock album by the British 80's synth-pop band A Flock of Seagulls. And once again, the orchestral/new-wave blend comes off way better than you'd have any right to expect.
Part of the reason for this is that A Flock of Seagulls was always a more sophisticated band than the casual '80s dancehall kid might have been aware of. Yes, their look at the time was kind of silly, and made some people not take them seriously. But one listen to their 1982 eponymous LP, or there 1983 follow-up Listen is enough to make you realize that this is more than just some light little pop-singles band. Their 1984 concept album The Story of a Young Heart, while less commercially successful than the other two, is no slouch either.
Ascension reunites the classic Flock lineup of those first three albums (Mike Score on lead vocals, keyboards and guitar, his brother Ali Score on drums, Paul Reynolds on lead guitar, and Frank Maudsley on bass), and pairs them with the Prague Philharmonic Orchestra. The bad news is that the four Flock members were never in the same studio at the same time for the recording of this LP. (They're also not back together for a tour. The Flock that plays out live these days features Mike Score and a bunch of other guys). The good news is that they still sound pretty terrific.
Ascension features eleven of the band's greatest hits, plus one new song, all done up in a new orchestral arrangement. Five of the songs were originally recorded on their first LP, and four are from Listen. Only "The More You Live, the More You Love" was taken from The Story of a Young Heart, but that turns out to be one of the best tracks on the new LP. All of the Flock's best-known songs are here, including "Space Age Love Song", "I Ran", "Wishing (If I Had a Photograph of You)" and "Telecommunication".
Flock always created luxuriant musical soundscapes, powered in no small part by the textures of Reynolds' guitar work. Their songs have also always had a science fiction/outer space quality to them. Both of these characteristics of their music are well served here by the addition of the orchestra. As for the vocals, upon first listen to this LP, Mike Score's voice sounded different than I remembered it. As the album wore on, though, it became more and more familiar.
My complaints about Ascension are fairly minor ones. The first is the instrumental title track. As the one "new" song on the LP, I was hoping for great things (especially since they named the album after it). Unfortunately, it was a disappointment. It starts out in fine symphonic fashion, with music that is both dramatic and pretty. However, the whole track only lasts for a minute and twelve seconds; and halfway through it, familiar chords pop up, and it morphs into what is obviously nothing more than a grand intro for "Wishing". I love "Wishing" as much as anyone, but for being the only new number here, and the title track to boot, it felt like a bit of a ripoff. My second criticism is of the song "Man Made", the last track on the album. The arrangement is lovely, exceptthat there's this really annoying synthetic tinkling noise that goes on in the background for the entire length of the song. It's distracting, and serves to spoil an otherwise solid track.
Still, these are minor critiques. Overall, I found the music on Ascension to be lush and exciting. The addition of the orchestra helps to bring a fresh sound to this group of songs that have been around for about thirty-five years now. The album is strong enough to make me cautiously interested in hearing other symphonic new wave experiments. As for Flock of Seagulls, I'd love to see these four men get back together in earnest to create some new music. Ascension reminded me of just how excellent much of their old music was.
Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars
Monday, July 23, 2018
Wizard's Consort and Blackmore's Night
Great friggin' concert. Dilly dilly! (I've always wanted to say that.)
It's been about 10 years since the last time I saw Blackmore's Night live, and it was way too long. The thing is, they don't play formally announced shows here on Long Island all that often. Although they live somewhere on the Island (hell, Michele Monte used to be their house sitter when they were on the road), and they do have a following here, for some reason, they're way more popular in Europe, especially in Germany. So they spend most of their summers playing German castle tours. (Wouldn't you?)
I think the last time I saw them was at the Westbury Music Fair, while John Blenn was still working there. As I recall, on that occasion, Ritchie got pissed at the venue because they had a hard ending time, and he still felt like playing. (For being a venue I love, there often seems to be a lot of issues between that venue and the artists. There was the dust-up with Blackmore, the time The Church stormed off the stage because of the bad sound, and the recent sound issues for the first part of Retro Futura. Then again, my guess is that Mr. Blackmore can also be difficult when he wants to be, so I guess it was a wash). I also saw them at least once at The Patchogue Theater.
But some of the most enjoyable Blackmore's Night shows have the unscheduled ones. Like a lot of couples, Ritchie and Candice like to go out to dinner. But unlike a lot of couples, they always seem to have a few special places where they go, eat some food, Ritchie drinks some adult beverages, and then they play an off-the-cuff show. They used to be famous for doing this at the old Normandy Inn in the Oakdale/Bohemia area, and at the Moonstruck Cafe in Nesconset, both of which are no longer around. (I saw them play a set in between sets of a Crystal Rose show at the Moonstruck, on a rainy night, as one of about eight or ten people in the audience).
I was really bummed that I didn't get to see them last time they played the Patchogue Theater in October of 2016, so I made up my mind to see them for this show. I was flying solo tonight -- it was my turn to get out of the house. (Denise and our friend Rich went into the city last night for a Depheche Mode/'80s cruise.)
The show had a scheduled 7PM start, and for once, even with the traffic coming back from the Hamptons, I timed it just right. I was lucky enough to find a spot in one of the nearby parking lots tonight, so I didn't have to climb all the way down the hill and back up again to park on the street -- only down and up half of the hill.
I was in my seat at about 10 minutes to showtime, enjoying the Renaissance's Turn of the Cards album on the house speakers until the opening band came out. Wizard's Consort are a strange band. They're a 3-piece that no one seems to know a lot about. I think they're friends of the Blackmores, but they don't seem to have any albums out, or a web page, or any of that stuff. In fact, just about the only mention of them I could find on the web was an article, reviewing a Blackmore's Night show for which they opened, which commented on the fact that they seem to have no Internet presence whatsoever. It's like they're totally off the grid.
They came out precisely at 7PM, all dressed in black. Their garb was peculiar. One player looked more like a pilgrim than a man from Resaissance England. (I wish I could have gotten a better look at them. But for some reason, the video screens didn't show either of the bands tonight.) They featured a cellist, a player playing some kind of electric-acoustic stringed instrument (an electric lute?), and a man who played the keyboards with his hands and percussion with his feet. They did an all-instrumental set that ran about 40 minutes long. Their music was strange -- it was definitely renaissance-influenced, but dark -- more castle dungeon than village square. Most of what they played was probably traditional music. But every so often, they'd play a little bit, or all, of something familiar, in their own medieval style. At one point, the crowd stirred as they drifted into Zeppelin's "Kashmir". A few minutes later, they were playing "Bouree" (made famous in our times by Jethro Tull, but of course, they lifted it from Bach). A little while after that, they played "Greensleeves/What Child Is This?". And towards the end of their set, they played a version of "Paint It Black" that started as a dirge, then rocked out.
They were pretty well received by the crowd. There were a couple of young women in front of me who chatted through their set, but I think this was OK. I think the Blackmores sent them out there kind of like the background entertainment at the king's banquet, to provide some music as people entered, drank, and whatever, until it was time for the night's main entertainment to begin. Overall, though, they got a lot of applause, and the crowd was more attentive than they often are for an opening band.
At just about 8:15PM, Blackmore's Night hit the stage, to "Do You Hear the People Sing" from Les Mis. The house was mostly full. The floor area was filled with folding chairs for tonight's show. I was sitting upstairs in the back, in the third row on the far right, in what was listed as an obstructed view seat. I didn't so much mind, because I've seen the band before -- I know what they look like. But it was a moot point anyway, because although they played as a 7-piece band, for some reason, they didn't have a musician on the blocked side of the stage -- most of the band huddled together on the other side. (I had almost the same seat for King Crimson last year, just a few rows further back. But unfortunately, on that night, the one musician the obstruction blocked was Robert Fripp! Grr!).
They started the night with "Dancer and the Moon", and I noticed immediately that Candice's vocals were a little drowned out in the mix. It also sounded like she wasn't in her best voice -- not bad, but not as great as I remembered. I needn't have worried, though. By the second song, the sound man had his stuff together, and Candice's voice warmed up enough to click into gear. And man, she was deadly for the rest of the night. I've often written that I believe Candice Night has one of the most beautiful voices in rock today. But I've always been especially amazed at how powerful her voice is, and how accurate she is live. (As a songer herself, Denise often hears the tiny vocal flaws that someone else might miss. But even she has always been very impressed by Candice.) The band played for two-and-a-half hours, and performed more than twenty songs without a break, and she never missed a beat. It was a show to remember.
In between songs, the Blackmores did their usual husband/wife comedy act, playfully bickering with one another, to the crowd's amusement. (Candice: "Prior to forming Blackmore's Night, Ritchie had a reputation for being a cranky rock star. But it wasn't his fault. He was pre-minstrel!"; Ritchie: If a man speaks in the woods, and there isn't a woman there to hear it, is he still wrong?"). They came out with some sort of setlist in mind, but Ritchie drove Candice crazy by constantly letting her introduce a song, then changing the setlist on the fly. But it was all good. The band was in a great mindset, relaxed, smoking hot, and obviously happy to be playing in front of a home crowd.
In celebration of their 21st year as a band, they played at least a song or two from each of their studio albums (except for their Christmas album). Some of my favorite moments were a ravishingly beautiful version of "Ghost of a Rose", a highly energetic rendition of "Fires at Midnight", and a slow acoustic cover of the first song I ever heard of theirs, Renaissance's "Ocean Gypsy". (At one point while the rest of the band was offstage, the keyboard player and the drummer also combined for an instrumental version of Renaissance's "Running Hard", after which the keyboard player also left the stage while the drummer did an extended drum solo.) At the request of the Blackmores' six-year-old son, screaming from the right side gallery, they also played an abbreviated acoustic version of one of the tracks that first put Ritchie Blackmore on the map as a rock legend -- Deep Purple's "Smoke on the Water". And a couple of times, both their son and their daughter (who looks to be about eight or nine years old) joined them on the stage to dance with Candice during some of the livelier numbers. This was definitely one of my favorite concerts of the year so far.
I was a little surprised that they didn't play two of their usual staples, "Renaissance Faire" and "Past Times With Good Company". But I've heard them play both of those songs live before, and I really couldn't complain -- they played such a great selection tonight, and I was so happy to hear them play "Ghost of a Rose" and "Ocean Gypsy", that it was all good.
It's been a pretty good last ten days for live music for me. I got to hear three of my Top 25 Artists of All Time. First there was Belinda Carisle (The Go-Go's) at Retro Futura; then Yes; and now Blackmore's Night. Life is good!
For last night's setlist, go to setlist.fm.
It's been about 10 years since the last time I saw Blackmore's Night live, and it was way too long. The thing is, they don't play formally announced shows here on Long Island all that often. Although they live somewhere on the Island (hell, Michele Monte used to be their house sitter when they were on the road), and they do have a following here, for some reason, they're way more popular in Europe, especially in Germany. So they spend most of their summers playing German castle tours. (Wouldn't you?)
I think the last time I saw them was at the Westbury Music Fair, while John Blenn was still working there. As I recall, on that occasion, Ritchie got pissed at the venue because they had a hard ending time, and he still felt like playing. (For being a venue I love, there often seems to be a lot of issues between that venue and the artists. There was the dust-up with Blackmore, the time The Church stormed off the stage because of the bad sound, and the recent sound issues for the first part of Retro Futura. Then again, my guess is that Mr. Blackmore can also be difficult when he wants to be, so I guess it was a wash). I also saw them at least once at The Patchogue Theater.
But some of the most enjoyable Blackmore's Night shows have the unscheduled ones. Like a lot of couples, Ritchie and Candice like to go out to dinner. But unlike a lot of couples, they always seem to have a few special places where they go, eat some food, Ritchie drinks some adult beverages, and then they play an off-the-cuff show. They used to be famous for doing this at the old Normandy Inn in the Oakdale/Bohemia area, and at the Moonstruck Cafe in Nesconset, both of which are no longer around. (I saw them play a set in between sets of a Crystal Rose show at the Moonstruck, on a rainy night, as one of about eight or ten people in the audience).
I was really bummed that I didn't get to see them last time they played the Patchogue Theater in October of 2016, so I made up my mind to see them for this show. I was flying solo tonight -- it was my turn to get out of the house. (Denise and our friend Rich went into the city last night for a Depheche Mode/'80s cruise.)
The show had a scheduled 7PM start, and for once, even with the traffic coming back from the Hamptons, I timed it just right. I was lucky enough to find a spot in one of the nearby parking lots tonight, so I didn't have to climb all the way down the hill and back up again to park on the street -- only down and up half of the hill.
I was in my seat at about 10 minutes to showtime, enjoying the Renaissance's Turn of the Cards album on the house speakers until the opening band came out. Wizard's Consort are a strange band. They're a 3-piece that no one seems to know a lot about. I think they're friends of the Blackmores, but they don't seem to have any albums out, or a web page, or any of that stuff. In fact, just about the only mention of them I could find on the web was an article, reviewing a Blackmore's Night show for which they opened, which commented on the fact that they seem to have no Internet presence whatsoever. It's like they're totally off the grid.
They came out precisely at 7PM, all dressed in black. Their garb was peculiar. One player looked more like a pilgrim than a man from Resaissance England. (I wish I could have gotten a better look at them. But for some reason, the video screens didn't show either of the bands tonight.) They featured a cellist, a player playing some kind of electric-acoustic stringed instrument (an electric lute?), and a man who played the keyboards with his hands and percussion with his feet. They did an all-instrumental set that ran about 40 minutes long. Their music was strange -- it was definitely renaissance-influenced, but dark -- more castle dungeon than village square. Most of what they played was probably traditional music. But every so often, they'd play a little bit, or all, of something familiar, in their own medieval style. At one point, the crowd stirred as they drifted into Zeppelin's "Kashmir". A few minutes later, they were playing "Bouree" (made famous in our times by Jethro Tull, but of course, they lifted it from Bach). A little while after that, they played "Greensleeves/What Child Is This?". And towards the end of their set, they played a version of "Paint It Black" that started as a dirge, then rocked out.
They were pretty well received by the crowd. There were a couple of young women in front of me who chatted through their set, but I think this was OK. I think the Blackmores sent them out there kind of like the background entertainment at the king's banquet, to provide some music as people entered, drank, and whatever, until it was time for the night's main entertainment to begin. Overall, though, they got a lot of applause, and the crowd was more attentive than they often are for an opening band.
At just about 8:15PM, Blackmore's Night hit the stage, to "Do You Hear the People Sing" from Les Mis. The house was mostly full. The floor area was filled with folding chairs for tonight's show. I was sitting upstairs in the back, in the third row on the far right, in what was listed as an obstructed view seat. I didn't so much mind, because I've seen the band before -- I know what they look like. But it was a moot point anyway, because although they played as a 7-piece band, for some reason, they didn't have a musician on the blocked side of the stage -- most of the band huddled together on the other side. (I had almost the same seat for King Crimson last year, just a few rows further back. But unfortunately, on that night, the one musician the obstruction blocked was Robert Fripp! Grr!).
They started the night with "Dancer and the Moon", and I noticed immediately that Candice's vocals were a little drowned out in the mix. It also sounded like she wasn't in her best voice -- not bad, but not as great as I remembered. I needn't have worried, though. By the second song, the sound man had his stuff together, and Candice's voice warmed up enough to click into gear. And man, she was deadly for the rest of the night. I've often written that I believe Candice Night has one of the most beautiful voices in rock today. But I've always been especially amazed at how powerful her voice is, and how accurate she is live. (As a songer herself, Denise often hears the tiny vocal flaws that someone else might miss. But even she has always been very impressed by Candice.) The band played for two-and-a-half hours, and performed more than twenty songs without a break, and she never missed a beat. It was a show to remember.
In between songs, the Blackmores did their usual husband/wife comedy act, playfully bickering with one another, to the crowd's amusement. (Candice: "Prior to forming Blackmore's Night, Ritchie had a reputation for being a cranky rock star. But it wasn't his fault. He was pre-minstrel!"; Ritchie: If a man speaks in the woods, and there isn't a woman there to hear it, is he still wrong?"). They came out with some sort of setlist in mind, but Ritchie drove Candice crazy by constantly letting her introduce a song, then changing the setlist on the fly. But it was all good. The band was in a great mindset, relaxed, smoking hot, and obviously happy to be playing in front of a home crowd.
In celebration of their 21st year as a band, they played at least a song or two from each of their studio albums (except for their Christmas album). Some of my favorite moments were a ravishingly beautiful version of "Ghost of a Rose", a highly energetic rendition of "Fires at Midnight", and a slow acoustic cover of the first song I ever heard of theirs, Renaissance's "Ocean Gypsy". (At one point while the rest of the band was offstage, the keyboard player and the drummer also combined for an instrumental version of Renaissance's "Running Hard", after which the keyboard player also left the stage while the drummer did an extended drum solo.) At the request of the Blackmores' six-year-old son, screaming from the right side gallery, they also played an abbreviated acoustic version of one of the tracks that first put Ritchie Blackmore on the map as a rock legend -- Deep Purple's "Smoke on the Water". And a couple of times, both their son and their daughter (who looks to be about eight or nine years old) joined them on the stage to dance with Candice during some of the livelier numbers. This was definitely one of my favorite concerts of the year so far.
I was a little surprised that they didn't play two of their usual staples, "Renaissance Faire" and "Past Times With Good Company". But I've heard them play both of those songs live before, and I really couldn't complain -- they played such a great selection tonight, and I was so happy to hear them play "Ghost of a Rose" and "Ocean Gypsy", that it was all good.
It's been a pretty good last ten days for live music for me. I got to hear three of my Top 25 Artists of All Time. First there was Belinda Carisle (The Go-Go's) at Retro Futura; then Yes; and now Blackmore's Night. Life is good!
For last night's setlist, go to setlist.fm.
Saturday, July 21, 2018
Review of The Cars' "Shake It Up"
I posted this review this afternoon on the Sputnik Music website:
Here's the truth about The Cars' first five albums -- there's not all that much difference between them. I don't mean this in a derogatory way. I'm a fan of the band. Always have been, always will be. But in terms of both style and quality, they're all close to being equal. The general consensus is probably that the first, the second and the fifth (The Cars -- 1978, Candy-O -- 1979, and Heartbeat City -- 1984) are maybe a half-a-cut better than the third and fourth (Panorama -- 1980 and Shake It Up -- 1981), due to having a few more top-flight songs on them. But it's close. Chances are, if you like one, you'd like them all, and vice versa. Panorama vs. Shake It Up is almost a coin toss. I slightly prefer the first, but we're talking very slightly. As far as sales went, Shake It Up did a little better than Panorama, going double-platinum to the latter's single-platinum, but neither of them sold as well as the other three LPs. Panorama made it slightly higher in the Billboard charts, reaching a high of #5, compared to Shake It Up's #9. However, as you can see, we're talking about very small differences here.
So what you're dealing with in Shake It Up, then, is nine more songs done in the classic Cars manner -- new-wave music done American style. There's a little more chunky guitar than you'll find in the British dance-pop bands of the same era, but still plenty of synthesizer to go around. The lyrics continue to be mostly about relationships with hot and fascinating women, but as usual for this band, not in the kind of smarmy way you'll find in the lyrics of most of the '80s guitar-dominated bands -- they're not so much "hot for teacher" as they are "victims of love". And, as on most Cars albums, Ric Ocasek sings about two thirds of the lead vocals, with Benjamin Orr carrying the other third.
So what distinguishes Shake It Up from the other four albums" Well, there is the title track, which was the band's most successful single in the U.S. up until that point, coming in at #4 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, and #2 on the Billboard Mainstream Rock chart. It's an upbeat, catchy number, with some good synth and guitar work, that I imagine must have been pretty popular in eighties dance clubs everywhere. There's also "Since You're Gone", the album's opening number, which likewise made the singles charts, albeit in a significantly lower position. And I'm kind of partial to "I'm Not the One," a slower, Orr-sung track with some tinkly, merry-go-round synthesizer. The album's Wikipedia entry claims that Shake It Up is "much more pop-oriented" than was Panorama, but that might be a little overstated. Overall, it's a simply a basic Cars LP, from when The Cars were still The Cars.
This band had a nice little run for themselves from 1978 until 1984, churning out five solid albums in a row that have stood the test of time. They weren't the dominant band of their time period, but they were strong enough that their music is still fondly remembered today. Shake It Up didn't really stand out from their other LPs of this era, but it certainly carried its weight. If you like The Cars at all, it's worth a listen.
Rating: 3 of 5 stars
Review Summary: A basic Cars LP, from when The Cars where still The Cars.
Here's the truth about The Cars' first five albums -- there's not all that much difference between them. I don't mean this in a derogatory way. I'm a fan of the band. Always have been, always will be. But in terms of both style and quality, they're all close to being equal. The general consensus is probably that the first, the second and the fifth (The Cars -- 1978, Candy-O -- 1979, and Heartbeat City -- 1984) are maybe a half-a-cut better than the third and fourth (Panorama -- 1980 and Shake It Up -- 1981), due to having a few more top-flight songs on them. But it's close. Chances are, if you like one, you'd like them all, and vice versa. Panorama vs. Shake It Up is almost a coin toss. I slightly prefer the first, but we're talking very slightly. As far as sales went, Shake It Up did a little better than Panorama, going double-platinum to the latter's single-platinum, but neither of them sold as well as the other three LPs. Panorama made it slightly higher in the Billboard charts, reaching a high of #5, compared to Shake It Up's #9. However, as you can see, we're talking about very small differences here.
So what you're dealing with in Shake It Up, then, is nine more songs done in the classic Cars manner -- new-wave music done American style. There's a little more chunky guitar than you'll find in the British dance-pop bands of the same era, but still plenty of synthesizer to go around. The lyrics continue to be mostly about relationships with hot and fascinating women, but as usual for this band, not in the kind of smarmy way you'll find in the lyrics of most of the '80s guitar-dominated bands -- they're not so much "hot for teacher" as they are "victims of love". And, as on most Cars albums, Ric Ocasek sings about two thirds of the lead vocals, with Benjamin Orr carrying the other third.
So what distinguishes Shake It Up from the other four albums" Well, there is the title track, which was the band's most successful single in the U.S. up until that point, coming in at #4 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, and #2 on the Billboard Mainstream Rock chart. It's an upbeat, catchy number, with some good synth and guitar work, that I imagine must have been pretty popular in eighties dance clubs everywhere. There's also "Since You're Gone", the album's opening number, which likewise made the singles charts, albeit in a significantly lower position. And I'm kind of partial to "I'm Not the One," a slower, Orr-sung track with some tinkly, merry-go-round synthesizer. The album's Wikipedia entry claims that Shake It Up is "much more pop-oriented" than was Panorama, but that might be a little overstated. Overall, it's a simply a basic Cars LP, from when The Cars were still The Cars.
This band had a nice little run for themselves from 1978 until 1984, churning out five solid albums in a row that have stood the test of time. They weren't the dominant band of their time period, but they were strong enough that their music is still fondly remembered today. Shake It Up didn't really stand out from their other LPs of this era, but it certainly carried its weight. If you like The Cars at all, it's worth a listen.
Rating: 3 of 5 stars
Friday, July 20, 2018
Yes at 50 Tour
I was feeling kind of bummed for the last few days that I didn't fully enjoy myself at the Erasure show (although I've kind of decided that it's not fully my fault. Some of it was my sour mindset for the night. But some of it was that while Erasure does have some good songs, too many of them sound alike, and are really mostly of interest to dance too. I wish they'd thrown in their ABBA cover, "Take a Chance on Me", to change it up a little. But I digress).
In any event, while I was at the Retro Futura show in Westbury on Friday night, I noticed that Yes was appearing there this week. I checked online, and saw that there seemed to be an ample number of tickets left for me to pick one up at the show on Wednesday night, if I chose to do so.
Now I've seen Yes three times in the past -- four if I count Anderson, Bruford, Wakeman and Howe -- and I do. I saw them at Madison Square Garden for the Drama tour, at the Forest Hills Tennis Stadium for the 90125 tour, and back at Madison Square Garden again for the Union tour. And I saw ABWH at the Nassau Coliseum for the tour for their eponymous album, with Tony Levin playing bass. I didn't originally plan to see Yes this tour, because I'm at a point in my life where I've been trying to concentrate on my bucket-list bands -- bands I've never seen before but want to. But as I thought about it more, I realized that Yes is one of my favorite bands. And it's the same situation as with Howard Jones and Thomas Dolby. I've never seen Thomas Dolby, but I've seen Howard Jones four times. I wish I could trade one of those Howard Jones shows and see Thomas Dolby once, but that's how life is. So if you never get to see Thomas Dolby, but you get to see Howard Jones four times, then make the most of it and enjoy Howard Jones. I love Yes and Pink Floyd about equally, and I never got to see Pink Floyd. But if I never got to see Pink Floyd, but I got to see Yes four (five) times -- then I should make the most of it, and just enjoy the hell out of Yes.
If you haven't kept up with it, Yes is having weird times these days. Just like in the ABWH days, there are two competing versions of Yes out there right now. There's the version that Chris Squire was running until his death in 2015. That band currently consists of Steve Howe on guitar; Alan White on drums, Geoff Downes (the former member The Buggles who joined Yes for the Drama album) on keyboards; Billy Sherwood (Chris Squire's self-chosen successor) on bass; and Jon Davison (the former lead singer of Glass Hammer) on vocals. Their situation has been further complicated by the fact that Alan White had back surgery last year, and caught a bacterial infection in his joints last November, leaving him unable to play for more than a few songs a night. So Jay Schellen (who?) is playing drums for most of the night for every show. This is the band who played in Westbury last night.
The other version of Yes includes vocalist Jon Anderson, guitarist Trevor Rabin, and keyboard player Rick Wakeman. They originally billed themselves as Anderson, Rabin and Wakeman (ARW). But when Squire passed away, supposedly with his widow's blessing, they changed their name to "Yes Featuring Jon Anderson, Trevor Rabin and Rick Wakeman". There is bad blood between these two units, but after the Chris Squire version of Yes vs. ABWH court case (which eventually resulted in a unification of those two Yes factions), they've all figured out that if they go back to court, the only ones it will benefit will be the lawyers. So they've struck an uneasy truce. And right now, they're both out on the road, playing separate Yes 50th Anniversary tours.
At this point, I'd like to officially announce that this fall, a third version of Yes, featuring myself, Denise, our two kids, and Chris Squire's corpse will be be making our premier tour. We'll be billing ourselves as "Yes Long Island - A Weekend at Chris's". (What, too soon?). I'll be playing kazoo. My first lesson is next Thursday. You should be aware though, that we'll have to transpose all of the songs downwards -- Denise's voice is much lower than Jon Anderson's.
In any event, the Howe/Yes tour has been a bit of an extravaganza, all leading up to a big Yes-Fest in Philadelphia this coming Saturday, which will include both afternoon and evening performances, will feature guest performances by former Yes keyboardists Tony Kaye and Patrick Moraz, and will also include an art exhibit by the man responsible for most of Yes' cover art over the years, Roger Dean. The tour itself has featured guest performances from time to time from Moraz, Kaye and Trevor Horn. I was hoping for a surpise appearance by Moraz (who played with the band on their Relayer album), but after chcecking their recent setlists on setlist.fm, I realized (correctly) that Moraz wasn't likely to turn up, but that Kaye was.
So that was the story. I had a quiet day yesterday, and left the house a little after six to take myself back to the NYCB Theater in Westbury. The crowd there was much larger than it had been for the Retro Futura show, but I was still able to buy a ticket at the box office.
I was told that Roger Dean was in the lobby -- I believe it was true, because I did see a big area in the middle where they seemed to be selling his art -- but it was mobbed there, so I just headed right into the arena.
I soon found myself in a comfy seat with an aisle on one side and an empty seat at the other. Yes being Yes, the tiny rotating stage was packed with equipment (although if Wakeman had been there, it would have been worse -- he could have taken up the whole stage by himself, and still had more equipment in the aisles).
The band opened right up with their 1972 classic, "Close to the Edge". The crowd went nuts. As the band rocked out, hips were breaking right and left. The nursing homes of Long Island were empty last night.
Now I'm going to tell you some of the negatives. Bear in mind as I do that I still had a really good time at the show, and I'm not at all sorry I bought a ticket. But the thing is, Yes has created some beautiful and complex pieces of music over the years. And these compositions were created for a band that featured virtuoso's at every position. Wakeman (and later Moraz), Squire, Bruford and Howe were all among the top players at their instruments, and Anderson was in the upper echelons of rock vocalists. Even White, when he took over for Bruford, was a pretty damned accomplished drummer. However, this is no longer true of this rendition of Yes. Davison doesn't have the full richness of voice that Anderson has (had? I haven't see him in years), although his voice is strong, and sounds about as close to Anderson's as you can get. Sherwood is Squire's protege, and plays (and looks) very much like him, but doesn't have all of Squire's chops. Schellen seemed to me to be an average drummer at best. Howe is Howe, but the man is 71 years old -- he's lost a half-step, and there are other things going on for him as well (which I'll get into later). And then there's Downes.
I want to say from the outset that I consider Geoff Downes to be a totally legitimate member of Yes, and I like much of his work. I have always loved the Drama album, I enjoy the Fly From Here album, and I'm a big fan of his work with The Buggles. But The Buggles isn't Yes. And Downes isn't Wakeman. He's a much lighter player, and when he tries to play classic Wakeman material, it doesn't always come off well. The problem is that where Rick Wakeman will hit you flush in the face with some full-on Phantom of the Opera shit, Downes' instinct is too often to go cutesy. He's playing the same notes, but kind of sliding through them without hitting them full on. He gets away with it sometimes. But sometimes you're just waiting for that blast of power synthesizer, and you get Wakeman-lite instead. It can't help but be a disappointment.
Then there's Howe. Howe is the reason I accept this band as the most legitimate version of Yes still out there. I'm not a Trevor Rabin fan. Never have been, never will be. For me, if it ain't Howe, it ain't really Yes. But as I said earlier, Howe is now 71 years old. And I can tell you for a fact, with the Yes vs. Yes grudge match currently going on, he's feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. There's only so much Yes-cred to go around, and especially with White running at about 35-40%, it's all on Howe to keep the people believing that this unit is some form of real Yes. So instead of having the frontman announce the songs, introduce the band, etc., Howe is doing it all himself. He's also taking the majority of the solos and musical flourishes. And where in the old days, Wakeman would do a solo number, and Anderson would do a solo number, the only solo last night was Howe's "Mood for a Day".
As it was, Howe started the night in a kind of a cranky mood. In this small, intimate arena, when one of the faithful feels the pressing need to scream important stuff, like "We Loooove You, Steve!" while Howe is trying to talk, or play on a quiet acoustic number, there's no getting away from it. These kinds of things were annoying Howe last night, and although he admonished the crowd a couple of times, some of the dimmer bulbs never got the hint. (There was also one point during one of the songs where it sounded like a physical fight was about to break out in the crowd. Which given the median age of this audience was just ridiculous.) Now I can tell you that I'm ten years younger than Howe. And when one of my kids gets me worked up, I forget how to even work my cell phone. So it was obvious to me by both his body language and the couple of little flubs that he made that all of this was distracting to the man. And the pressure of being the main guy didn't help. It's easy being Captain America when you can rely on Thor and Iron Man and the Hulk to go smash shit. But when you suddenly find yourself leaning on Hawkeye and The Falcon, it's a whole different story. (What's the line from Big Bang Theory? What are two words no one's ever said? "Help, Hawkeye!").
Now let's discuss the more positive aspects of the night. The choice of the setlist was solid. While the band did play some of the classic numbers, like "Close to the Edge" and "Heart of the Sunrise", they also focused on a lot of the songs that didn't always make it into the live show in the band's classic days. This allowed the audience to sit back and enjoy something different without the inevitable comparisons to Yes's glory days. (And in fact, seeing the probable setlist ahead of time was one of the things that made up my mind to buy a ticket). Some of the songs I'm talking about included a pair of tracks from their excellent Going for the One album, "Parallels" and "Awaken", as well as "Fly From Here, Part I: We Can Fly" from Fly From Here and "Sweet Dreams" from Time and a Word.
The band's second set (they played two full sets with no encores last night, a total of 15 songs) started off a little shaky -- "Perpetual Change" was probably their worst number of the night. It was draggy in the beginning, then turned into total cacophony in the middle. But things got better with the next number, "Does It Really Happen?" from Drama, and even better with the number after that, an exquisitely beautiful version of "Soon" from their Relayer album.
At this point, Alan White joined the band. (He had to work for it, as the arena's famous rotating stage had rotated the drums away from him. I was a little worried he was going to kill himself trying to get to his kit.). Schellen stayed on the stage, but moved to hand percussion and occasionally a couple of electric drums on the side, as the band performed a pretty good version of "Awaken". At other shows on the tour, the band usually ended their regular set after this song, and did the rest of the show as an encore. But for some reason (probably the logistics of getting everyone, including poor White, over all of that equipment and up the ramp, then back down again), on this night, they decided to just continue on with the set, as Howe introduced special guest, Tony Kaye.
Now I'm going to admit something -- I've never been a big Tony Kaye fan. I like all of the majesty Wakeman added to the band, and never blamed them for sacking Kaye, who was essentially a meat and potatoes (or piano and organ) keyboard player. But I have to tell you that Kaye's addition last night really took the band to another level. Now playing as a 7-piece, with Schellen's hand percussion and two keyboardists, the band roared into "Yours Is No Disgrace", and for the first time all night, Howe looked like he had really relaxed and started enjoying himself. And next, they took it up another notch, performing the best and most lively version of "Roundabout" I think I ever saw the band do. They concluded the evening on a high note, with a fine rendition of "Starship Trooper", which ended the night with tumultuous applause and a full-house standing ovation.
So that was the evening. There were ups and downs, but the crowd mostly seemed to only have noticed the ups. As for me, I felt that the night was well worth the price of the ticket. I hope these guys have a great weekend in Philadelphia. They've been a world-class band for fifty years now. Maybe if the other version of Yes works their way back to Long Island, I'll go catch them for comparison. (I'm not a Rabin fan, but I still love Anderson and Wakeman). And while I may have been kind of critical of Geoff Downes in this blog entry, if he and Trevor Horn ever do a Buggles reunion, I promise, I'm there.
I've got another show coming up in a few days, and you know I'll tell you all about it. (And after the show, I bumped into Rich Branciforte and exchanged pleasantries. So maybe sometime soon, I'll throw in a review in Good Times to go with my write-ups here and on the Sputnik Music website.)
Until then, stay cool, my friends.
In any event, while I was at the Retro Futura show in Westbury on Friday night, I noticed that Yes was appearing there this week. I checked online, and saw that there seemed to be an ample number of tickets left for me to pick one up at the show on Wednesday night, if I chose to do so.
Now I've seen Yes three times in the past -- four if I count Anderson, Bruford, Wakeman and Howe -- and I do. I saw them at Madison Square Garden for the Drama tour, at the Forest Hills Tennis Stadium for the 90125 tour, and back at Madison Square Garden again for the Union tour. And I saw ABWH at the Nassau Coliseum for the tour for their eponymous album, with Tony Levin playing bass. I didn't originally plan to see Yes this tour, because I'm at a point in my life where I've been trying to concentrate on my bucket-list bands -- bands I've never seen before but want to. But as I thought about it more, I realized that Yes is one of my favorite bands. And it's the same situation as with Howard Jones and Thomas Dolby. I've never seen Thomas Dolby, but I've seen Howard Jones four times. I wish I could trade one of those Howard Jones shows and see Thomas Dolby once, but that's how life is. So if you never get to see Thomas Dolby, but you get to see Howard Jones four times, then make the most of it and enjoy Howard Jones. I love Yes and Pink Floyd about equally, and I never got to see Pink Floyd. But if I never got to see Pink Floyd, but I got to see Yes four (five) times -- then I should make the most of it, and just enjoy the hell out of Yes.
If you haven't kept up with it, Yes is having weird times these days. Just like in the ABWH days, there are two competing versions of Yes out there right now. There's the version that Chris Squire was running until his death in 2015. That band currently consists of Steve Howe on guitar; Alan White on drums, Geoff Downes (the former member The Buggles who joined Yes for the Drama album) on keyboards; Billy Sherwood (Chris Squire's self-chosen successor) on bass; and Jon Davison (the former lead singer of Glass Hammer) on vocals. Their situation has been further complicated by the fact that Alan White had back surgery last year, and caught a bacterial infection in his joints last November, leaving him unable to play for more than a few songs a night. So Jay Schellen (who?) is playing drums for most of the night for every show. This is the band who played in Westbury last night.
The other version of Yes includes vocalist Jon Anderson, guitarist Trevor Rabin, and keyboard player Rick Wakeman. They originally billed themselves as Anderson, Rabin and Wakeman (ARW). But when Squire passed away, supposedly with his widow's blessing, they changed their name to "Yes Featuring Jon Anderson, Trevor Rabin and Rick Wakeman". There is bad blood between these two units, but after the Chris Squire version of Yes vs. ABWH court case (which eventually resulted in a unification of those two Yes factions), they've all figured out that if they go back to court, the only ones it will benefit will be the lawyers. So they've struck an uneasy truce. And right now, they're both out on the road, playing separate Yes 50th Anniversary tours.
At this point, I'd like to officially announce that this fall, a third version of Yes, featuring myself, Denise, our two kids, and Chris Squire's corpse will be be making our premier tour. We'll be billing ourselves as "Yes Long Island - A Weekend at Chris's". (What, too soon?). I'll be playing kazoo. My first lesson is next Thursday. You should be aware though, that we'll have to transpose all of the songs downwards -- Denise's voice is much lower than Jon Anderson's.
In any event, the Howe/Yes tour has been a bit of an extravaganza, all leading up to a big Yes-Fest in Philadelphia this coming Saturday, which will include both afternoon and evening performances, will feature guest performances by former Yes keyboardists Tony Kaye and Patrick Moraz, and will also include an art exhibit by the man responsible for most of Yes' cover art over the years, Roger Dean. The tour itself has featured guest performances from time to time from Moraz, Kaye and Trevor Horn. I was hoping for a surpise appearance by Moraz (who played with the band on their Relayer album), but after chcecking their recent setlists on setlist.fm, I realized (correctly) that Moraz wasn't likely to turn up, but that Kaye was.
So that was the story. I had a quiet day yesterday, and left the house a little after six to take myself back to the NYCB Theater in Westbury. The crowd there was much larger than it had been for the Retro Futura show, but I was still able to buy a ticket at the box office.
I was told that Roger Dean was in the lobby -- I believe it was true, because I did see a big area in the middle where they seemed to be selling his art -- but it was mobbed there, so I just headed right into the arena.
I soon found myself in a comfy seat with an aisle on one side and an empty seat at the other. Yes being Yes, the tiny rotating stage was packed with equipment (although if Wakeman had been there, it would have been worse -- he could have taken up the whole stage by himself, and still had more equipment in the aisles).
The band opened right up with their 1972 classic, "Close to the Edge". The crowd went nuts. As the band rocked out, hips were breaking right and left. The nursing homes of Long Island were empty last night.
Now I'm going to tell you some of the negatives. Bear in mind as I do that I still had a really good time at the show, and I'm not at all sorry I bought a ticket. But the thing is, Yes has created some beautiful and complex pieces of music over the years. And these compositions were created for a band that featured virtuoso's at every position. Wakeman (and later Moraz), Squire, Bruford and Howe were all among the top players at their instruments, and Anderson was in the upper echelons of rock vocalists. Even White, when he took over for Bruford, was a pretty damned accomplished drummer. However, this is no longer true of this rendition of Yes. Davison doesn't have the full richness of voice that Anderson has (had? I haven't see him in years), although his voice is strong, and sounds about as close to Anderson's as you can get. Sherwood is Squire's protege, and plays (and looks) very much like him, but doesn't have all of Squire's chops. Schellen seemed to me to be an average drummer at best. Howe is Howe, but the man is 71 years old -- he's lost a half-step, and there are other things going on for him as well (which I'll get into later). And then there's Downes.
I want to say from the outset that I consider Geoff Downes to be a totally legitimate member of Yes, and I like much of his work. I have always loved the Drama album, I enjoy the Fly From Here album, and I'm a big fan of his work with The Buggles. But The Buggles isn't Yes. And Downes isn't Wakeman. He's a much lighter player, and when he tries to play classic Wakeman material, it doesn't always come off well. The problem is that where Rick Wakeman will hit you flush in the face with some full-on Phantom of the Opera shit, Downes' instinct is too often to go cutesy. He's playing the same notes, but kind of sliding through them without hitting them full on. He gets away with it sometimes. But sometimes you're just waiting for that blast of power synthesizer, and you get Wakeman-lite instead. It can't help but be a disappointment.
Then there's Howe. Howe is the reason I accept this band as the most legitimate version of Yes still out there. I'm not a Trevor Rabin fan. Never have been, never will be. For me, if it ain't Howe, it ain't really Yes. But as I said earlier, Howe is now 71 years old. And I can tell you for a fact, with the Yes vs. Yes grudge match currently going on, he's feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. There's only so much Yes-cred to go around, and especially with White running at about 35-40%, it's all on Howe to keep the people believing that this unit is some form of real Yes. So instead of having the frontman announce the songs, introduce the band, etc., Howe is doing it all himself. He's also taking the majority of the solos and musical flourishes. And where in the old days, Wakeman would do a solo number, and Anderson would do a solo number, the only solo last night was Howe's "Mood for a Day".
As it was, Howe started the night in a kind of a cranky mood. In this small, intimate arena, when one of the faithful feels the pressing need to scream important stuff, like "We Loooove You, Steve!" while Howe is trying to talk, or play on a quiet acoustic number, there's no getting away from it. These kinds of things were annoying Howe last night, and although he admonished the crowd a couple of times, some of the dimmer bulbs never got the hint. (There was also one point during one of the songs where it sounded like a physical fight was about to break out in the crowd. Which given the median age of this audience was just ridiculous.) Now I can tell you that I'm ten years younger than Howe. And when one of my kids gets me worked up, I forget how to even work my cell phone. So it was obvious to me by both his body language and the couple of little flubs that he made that all of this was distracting to the man. And the pressure of being the main guy didn't help. It's easy being Captain America when you can rely on Thor and Iron Man and the Hulk to go smash shit. But when you suddenly find yourself leaning on Hawkeye and The Falcon, it's a whole different story. (What's the line from Big Bang Theory? What are two words no one's ever said? "Help, Hawkeye!").
Now let's discuss the more positive aspects of the night. The choice of the setlist was solid. While the band did play some of the classic numbers, like "Close to the Edge" and "Heart of the Sunrise", they also focused on a lot of the songs that didn't always make it into the live show in the band's classic days. This allowed the audience to sit back and enjoy something different without the inevitable comparisons to Yes's glory days. (And in fact, seeing the probable setlist ahead of time was one of the things that made up my mind to buy a ticket). Some of the songs I'm talking about included a pair of tracks from their excellent Going for the One album, "Parallels" and "Awaken", as well as "Fly From Here, Part I: We Can Fly" from Fly From Here and "Sweet Dreams" from Time and a Word.
The band's second set (they played two full sets with no encores last night, a total of 15 songs) started off a little shaky -- "Perpetual Change" was probably their worst number of the night. It was draggy in the beginning, then turned into total cacophony in the middle. But things got better with the next number, "Does It Really Happen?" from Drama, and even better with the number after that, an exquisitely beautiful version of "Soon" from their Relayer album.
At this point, Alan White joined the band. (He had to work for it, as the arena's famous rotating stage had rotated the drums away from him. I was a little worried he was going to kill himself trying to get to his kit.). Schellen stayed on the stage, but moved to hand percussion and occasionally a couple of electric drums on the side, as the band performed a pretty good version of "Awaken". At other shows on the tour, the band usually ended their regular set after this song, and did the rest of the show as an encore. But for some reason (probably the logistics of getting everyone, including poor White, over all of that equipment and up the ramp, then back down again), on this night, they decided to just continue on with the set, as Howe introduced special guest, Tony Kaye.
Now I'm going to admit something -- I've never been a big Tony Kaye fan. I like all of the majesty Wakeman added to the band, and never blamed them for sacking Kaye, who was essentially a meat and potatoes (or piano and organ) keyboard player. But I have to tell you that Kaye's addition last night really took the band to another level. Now playing as a 7-piece, with Schellen's hand percussion and two keyboardists, the band roared into "Yours Is No Disgrace", and for the first time all night, Howe looked like he had really relaxed and started enjoying himself. And next, they took it up another notch, performing the best and most lively version of "Roundabout" I think I ever saw the band do. They concluded the evening on a high note, with a fine rendition of "Starship Trooper", which ended the night with tumultuous applause and a full-house standing ovation.
So that was the evening. There were ups and downs, but the crowd mostly seemed to only have noticed the ups. As for me, I felt that the night was well worth the price of the ticket. I hope these guys have a great weekend in Philadelphia. They've been a world-class band for fifty years now. Maybe if the other version of Yes works their way back to Long Island, I'll go catch them for comparison. (I'm not a Rabin fan, but I still love Anderson and Wakeman). And while I may have been kind of critical of Geoff Downes in this blog entry, if he and Trevor Horn ever do a Buggles reunion, I promise, I'm there.
I've got another show coming up in a few days, and you know I'll tell you all about it. (And after the show, I bumped into Rich Branciforte and exchanged pleasantries. So maybe sometime soon, I'll throw in a review in Good Times to go with my write-ups here and on the Sputnik Music website.)
Until then, stay cool, my friends.
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