Frampton Remains Alive...and Seemingly Well: On Farewell Tour, I Love His Way -- Chicago Concert Review

Concert Review

Peter Frampton & band
w/ opening act
Jason Bonham's Led Zeppelin Evening
Huntington Bank Pavilion, Chicago
July 28, 2019
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In January 1976, when he was 25 and I was 7, Peter Frampton released Frampton Comes Alive, a double live album recorded the previous year, mostly at shows in San Francisco and on Long Island.

Although he'd previously earned some acclaim as guitarist for the band Humble Pie, and put out four studio albums under his own name, at that point the Englishman was not a star.

Only 1975's Frampton had broken Billboard's top 100--it went to #32--and he had yet to have any hit singles.

But while Frampton Comes Alive wasn't an instant sensation, it rather soon exploded--hitting #1 in April 1976, selling 8 million copies and becoming the best-selling live album of all-time (though it now ranks 4th).

Although my dad--more a classical, opera and Broadway fan but open to some rock--did bring late '70s mega-albums such as The Eagles' Hotel California, Fleetwood Mac's Rumours and the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack into the family's growing record collection, he never bought Frampton Comes Alive, nor did I until decades later.

So while I was aware of Frampton, hit songs such as "Show Me the Way" and "Baby, I Love Your Way," the popularity of Frampton Comes Alive and his role in the Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band movie--which I saw upon its 1978 release--he never figured that strongly into my rock fandom.

I vaguely remember the title track of his 1981 album, Breaking All the Rules, but even at the time, it felt like a minor comeback by a has-been. Frampton was all of 30, and aside from some 21st century curiosity that saw me buy but not particularly love Frampton Comes Alive, Peter remained a blip on my rock 'n roll radar.

I'd never seen him live in concert, even deciding a 2017 show in my hometown of Skokie was priced too high for my interest.

But I'd heard some good things about that acoustic gig, loved an interview he did with Howard Stern and was moved by his announcement earlier this year that he will "retire from regular vigorous touring at the end of this year due to being diagnosed with the autoimmune disease Inclusion Body Myositis (IBM)," a progressive muscle disorder characterized by muscle inflammation, weakness and atrophy.

Thus, I took note of the announcement of his show at the Huntington Bank Pavilion on Northerly Island--a venue he also played in 2016 and '18--and when Live Nation offered a special $20 ticket deal, I snagged three seats.

Hence, I was eager to see Peter Frampton.

But not that eager.

Even in doing some Spotifamilarizing with setlisted songs from earlier on the tour, there wasn't much I loved besides some Frampton Comes Alive highlights and "Breaking All the Rules."

And to be perfectly honest, the best music I heard Sunday night came before Frampton and his band took the stage.

For the night's--and mostly the tour's--opening act was Jason Bonham's Led Zeppelin Evening.

Bonham, himself a powerhouse drummer, is the son of Led Zeppelin's late, legendary John Bonham, and has played in the stead of his dad in some sporadic Zep one-off reunions.

And as he said from the stage, for 9 years now, he has toured to essentially pay tribute to his dad and the music he once made with Jimmy Page, Robert Plant and John Paul Jones.

At no point across Bonham's 50+ minute set did I imagine I was watch the actual Zeppelin, nor did it quite compare with seeing Plant, as I have numerous times. But with James Dylan doing a stellar job with Plant's vocals and Tony Catania ripping through the Page guitar parts, it was thrilling to hear "The Immigrant Song," "The Ocean," "Whole Lotta Love," "Rock and Roll," "Stairway to Heaven" and more.

Understandably, Bonham's crew didn't get headliner-style lighting, nor full crushing volume, but while Peter Frampton became pretty huge during the '70s, Led Zeppelin pretty much owned the decade.

So it was rather gutsy, and cool, that Frampton would readily wreak the comparisons upon himself, with an opening act that got most of the crowd onto their feet.

Yet while the music itself is one thing--and Zeppelin's greatest hits will win the battle for me against almost anyone--Frampton proved himself up to the challenge.

With a warm smile on his face, the once long-maned rock idol seemed comfortable as a still-estimable musician of 69, with little hair and a gray beard (and a t-shirt reading "EQUALITY").

Opening--as does Frampton Comes Alive--with "Baby (Something's Happenin')", Frampton often rather affably regaled the crowd with stories, including one about saving a bird that had somehow doinked itself on the singer's balcony in Nashville.

This actually led into a relatively new song about the incident called "I Saved a Bird Today."

Musically, the most overtly delectable moments harkened to the hallowed live album--"Show Me the Way," "Baby, I Love Your Way," the main set-closing long romp of "Do You Feel Like I Do," incorporating Frampton's famed talk box effect--but appreciating what Peter will be up against medically, just hearing him play any guitar leads was tremendously delightful.

Though he's been doing largely the same setlist--and therefore three blues covers--at most Finale Tour stops, it was particularly cool to hear him play these ("Georgia (On My Mind)," "Me and My Guitar," "Same Old Blues") in Chicago.

And being a huge Soundgarden fan, I got choked up hearing Frampton's largely instrumental take on "Black Hole Sun" and his spoken introduction to it, in which he dedicated the song to Chris Cornell, whom Peter had come to know after recording the tune for his 2006 Fingerprints album, his only to win a Grammy.

Even when a song, such as "(I'll Give You) Money," felt a tad indulgent--though Frampton's guitar interaction with Adam Lester was sweet--the truth is that on a picture-perfect night on Chicago's lakefront, skyline in view, two friends alongside, with a terrific opening act, all for $20, the whole performance was just joyful.

Most of all because of how cool Frampton seemed.

It would conceivably be easy for him to be somewhat bitter in having spent the last 40-some years in the shadow of a fabled album from his mid-20s, and now being stricken with an illness likely to rob him of his ability to play music.

But he was entirely amiable, engaging and gracious, thanking the rather full crowd, paying tribute to ex-bandmates who have passed on and speaking candidly about his diagnosis. (He didn't mention one notable childhood friend, David Bowie--who also was an art pupil of Frampton's dad--but did name drop another, Bill Wyman.)

As he's done in other cities, I would've relished him closing out the night with a cover of The Beatles' "While My Guitar Gently Weeps," seemingly a perfectly poignant end to the evening...and eventually his touring career.

But after a couple Humble Pie tunes as encores--including Ray Charles' "I Don't Need No Doctor," in
which I sensed an added air of defiance--Peter Frampton simply said "I can't say goodbye" and left the stage, seemingly not wishing to run afoul of the 11pm curfew. (Though Bonham and Frampton combined for a generous 3 hours of music, there's no reason the show couldn't have been slated to start half-hour earlier than the ticketed 7:30pm).

But I guess I really didn't need to hear his guitar weep, especially as Peter Frampton seemed not an iota sorry for himself.

Sure, it took me awhile, but I'm happy I saw Frampton come alive.

And, ooh baby, I loved his way.

Quite Beneficial: Lucinda Williams Delights at Gala for Old Town School of Folk Music -- Chicago Concert Review

Chicago Concert Review

Lucinda Williams
with backing band Buick 6
Old Town School of Folk Music, Chicago
Blue Jean Gala 2019
June 14, 2019
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The readership of this blog isn't all that vast, but it's not inconceivable that someone could come across this review and be like:

"I love Lucinda Williams. I didn't realize she was playing in Chicago."

To which I would somewhat sheepishly share that I ordinarily wouldn't have known either, not having been much of a fan--due to ignorance rather than distaste--of the 66-year-old singer/songwriter.

I have never owned any of Williams' albums, and until Spotifamiliarizing myself prior to this show, practically none of her songs.

Per Setlist.fm, I now see that Lucinda Williams has played at least 10 shows at Chicago area venues just since 2016, but none registered.

Speaking of registering, I haven't ever taken any classes at the Old Town School of Folk Music, though I greatly admire its mission and history, and have attended concerts in its auditorium (which one of my sisters helped design).

A close pal's family are generous supporters of OTSFM, and I was graciously invited to accompany them to the school's Blue Jean Gala, at which Williams was the featured artist. (I donated what I could.)

The gala was hosted onstage by longtime WXRT morning DJ, Lin Brehmer, who kindly chatted with me in the lobby for a bit.

Backed by three musicians she identified as being known as Buick 6, Williams' 90-minute set consisted primarily of a full play-through of her 1998 classic album, Car Wheels on a Gravel Road, with which I had become decently familiar by showtime.

She encored solely with "The Ghosts of Highway 20," title track of a 2016 album, which made this benefit performance a bit briefer than recent shows for the general public, but it fit perfectly into the Gala festivities.

Beyond a strong musical performance--it's easy to appreciate why Lucinda Williams is such a venerated songwriter--it was a delight to have her give VH1 Storytellers-type insights to the Car Wheels on a Gravel Road songs.

Before the title track, which is the album's second song, she spoke of her parents.

Her father was a poet, whose career as a college professor caused the family to move a lot, hence the song's memories such as:

"Cotton fields stretching miles and miles / Hank's voice on the radio"

Williams was also open about her mother's mental health issues and--leading into "Metal Firecracker"--wryly honest about her own romantic entanglements, such as a romance with a bassist on tour despite having a boyfriend, who also happened to be a bass player.

She also shared that "Drunken Angel" was written for a late Texas musician named Blaze Foley, and that "Lake Charles" was penned for another friend of hers from Texas, but who preferred to call her native Louisiana home.

With her voice strong though weathered in an evocative way, I enjoyed everything Lucinda Williams played with Buick 6, but especially noted late album tracks such as "Greenville," "Still I Long for Your Kiss" and "Joy."

Appealing video graphics accompanied everything performed, and as Lucinda noted, closer "The Ghosts of Highway 20" nicely touched upon the themes prevalent in the Car Wheels on a Gravel Road songs, from a more recent vantage point.

Being that this was a benefit show for Old Town School, and that I was kindly invited, I was only going to write a review if I really enjoyed Lucinda Williams' performance.

Hence, this stands as testament that I did.

As with Bruce Cockburn a few weeks ago, it was again a thrill to newly discover--in person--a master songwriter I should've known years ago.

And this time, it was genuinely beneficial in a multitude of ways. 

Light Up, Light Up: With Occasional Drifts, Snow Patrol Reigns at the Riv -- Chicago Concert Review

Concert Review

Snow Patrol
w/ opening acts We Are Scientists, Ryan McMullan
Riviera Theatre, Chicago
May 7, 2019
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I've liked Snow Patrol all the way back to their 1998 debut album, Songs for Polarbears, which based on the setlist from Tuesday's show at the Riv, the band itself seems to have forgotten about.

It's impressive that the quintet hailing from Northern Ireland (though formed in Scotland) continues to successfully exist all these years later.

I've owned most of their albums, like several songs and first saw them, at the Riv, in 2006. I also caught them opening for U2, twice, in 2009.

Singer/songwriter/guitarist Gary Lightbody appears to be one of rock's most affable frontman, and I love watching--on video--massive UK festival crowds sing along lustily with syrupy anthems like "Run" and "Chasing Cars.

2018's Wildness was Snow Patrol's first studio album in seven years, and I was happy to see them again at the Riv on Tuesday night.

With a good balcony seat and two fine opening acts--Ryan McMullan and We Are Scientists--it was a solidly enjoyable evening, and a satisfying performance from a really good band.

That I can't call it astonishing or phenomenal--and am awarding @@@@ (out of 5)--doesn't represent any notable knocks, qualms or disappointments.

That's just kinda where it tops out.

From the opening, "Take Back the City," the band sounded strong, and there were some nice visual backdrops and lighting cues.

But no one except Lightbody draws much attention to themselves, and though Gary's remarks were expectedly genial and gracious, he's not exactly Mick Jagger or Freddie Mercury.

Played 4th, "Empress" is a really nice song from Wilderness, but Snow Patrol hasn't much expanded beyond or improved upon the Final Straw (2003) and Eyes Open (2006) albums.

"Run," "Chasing Cars," "You're All I Have" and some other older songs were the highlights for me, and though new ones fit in fine, few really felt special.

Especially with Lightbody being openly candid in recent years about struggles with depression, it's hard not to root for the guy, who constantly seems to wear a bemused grin.

But he and his bandmates--most from the beginning--are now in their 40s, and I haven't--still--noticed  tremendous evidence of any continuing musical growth. (Even albums prior to Wildness were just so-so.)

"Just Say Yes" made for an energetic closer after neary 2 hours, and indeed I would say, "Yes, I liked Snow Patrol at the Riv."

But the ongoing accumulation just doesn't appear to be that great.

That'll Dü: From Past to Present, Bob Mould and Band Blister the Metro -- Chicago Concert Review

Concert Review

Bob Mould w/ band

opening act Beach Bunny

Metro, Chicago

February 23 (also played 2/22)

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In a recent interview with Rolling Stone, the legendary Bob Mould said:

“Somebody once tweeted something like, 'Oh, my God. I’m at a Bob Mould show, and it seems like it’s been an hour and a half of the same song. It’s incredible.' 

“At first, I sort of took offense to it, and then I realized, no, that’s actually like, ‘Oh, cool.’ Yeah, so it’s all just one big thing.”

I'm fairly certain I am not the Tweeter Mould was referencing, but I can't deny thinking something similar, largely in a reverential way.

For at age 58, the singer/guitarist/songwriter initially famed for being in Hüsker Dü remains a rather singular force of nature.

Especially when playing with a band, Mould plugs in howls--vocally and instrumentally--for 80-90 minutes with hardly a breath or moment of dead air in between songs.

And whether with Hüsker Dü in the '80s, an early '90s trio called Sugar or as a solo artist, Mould's stock-in-trade has been smouldering rock songs that wrap clever melodies and incisive lyrics within guitar-fueled aggression.

Hence, both to the adoring and the adverse, there can be plenty of similarity over the course of one of Mould's concert performances.

Saturday night was the 11th time I've Bob Mould live on a stage, the first having been in 1994 with  Sugar--technically, I'm not too young to have seen him with Hüsker Dü, but I wasn't hip enough to know it at the time--and the others in a variety of incarnations (full-band, solo with acoustic guitar, solo on electric guitar and acoustic with an another such accompanist). 

He has been stellar in every guise, but over the last decade or so, when playing with Evanston's Jason Narducy on bass and Jon Wuerster from the band Superchunk on drums, he has been especially mind-blowing.

To the point that a superlative show is pretty much a sure thing, as reiterated at Metro, a great Chicago venue he has blistered often.

Whenever tickets went on sale for Friday and Saturday's gigs, I did not jump on getting one.

But last week I realized it had been over two months since I'd been to a concert, and with tickets remaining--they sold out by show time--and the Metro able to accommodate my request for a seat in the balcony, I couldn't resist the chance to see Mould for the first time in 3 years, figuring it a certainty I'd be thoroughly rocked.

And I was.

If you've seen Bob Mould at full-tilt, you probably don't need to be reading this review to know how wondrous he is--especially with Wuerster and Narducy, both outstanding sidemen.

And if you haven't, this isn't going to explain something that can't be explained. It's a unique visceral experience, perhaps akin to standing amid a howling windstorm, joyously.

But you--and especially the 3 pals who accompanied me at the show--may wonder why I awarded @@@@1/2 and not a Seth Saith maximum of @@@@@.

Certainly, it's an inexact delineation, but though there were many blissful moments among the 90 or so minutes Mould & Co. were onstage, it seemed a tad less frenetic than past shows of his I've seen.

If he's slowing down just a bit as he gets older and--per the Rolling Stone interview and his latest album titled Sunshine Rock--seems to be happier, that's really only a good thing.

Mould remains truly incredible, had also played Metro the night before and actually played about 10 minutes longer than past full-band shows have typically yielded.

As I reflected on in my most recent theater review, what I'm really gauging in offering my opinion--and rating--of any show is my emotional experience.

While this was as awesome as can be during Mould's opening quartet of "The War," "A Good Idea," "I Apologize" and "Hoover Dam," seven of the subsequent 21 songs--see the setlist here--came from Sunshine Rock, which was just released on February 8.

While I've repeatedly listened to and like that album--which in its essence isn't all that different from 2016's Patch the Sky, 2014's Beauty and Ruin, 2012's Silver Age, etc., etc.--the songs have yet to fully soak in, hence a sense of sameness was exacerbated midway through the set..

I long ago realized that it doesn't matter all that much exactly which songs Bob Mould chooses to play at a given show, as the torrid soundscape is brilliant regardless.

But eschewing Sugar's "Your Favorite Thing"--which had been in all the tour setlists before Chicago--not only eliminated one of my absolute favorites, the show could have used its poppy, melodic and presumably well-known punch.

The 25 songs did include seven from Hüsker Dü--if you include their cover of the Mary Tyler Moore theme, "Love is All Around"--along with three from Sugar and more recent gems like "I Don't Know You Anymore" and "Hey Mr. Grey."

So as Mould is soon to commemorate 40 years of making music publicly with a pair of upcoming shows in St. Paul, he well demonstrated that he's long been a master at multiple crafts: songwriting, singing, playing guitar, delivering thunderous concerts, etc.

And it's certainly to his credit that brand new tunes like "Sunny Love Song" and "I Fought" can slot in seamlessly with Hüsker Dü classics like "Chartered Trips" and "Makes No Sense at All."

Though he didn't say anything about it in introduction, it was also cool that he opened the encore--alone--with "Never Talking to You Again," a Hüsker Dü song that his late, supposedly long estranged bandmate Grant Hart had written and sung. 

Clearly, Mould has set a high bar, and strictly in terms of his performance alongside Narducy and Wuerster--with a nice opening set from Beach Bunny--he cleared it.

One wonders how long he can rock at 180mph, but even if he moderates to 150mph, it seems he should still be in great stead for a few more years, at least.

But I just didn't find myself staring breathlessly with mouth agape as at some past Mould band shows, and along with ripping through "Your Favorite Thing"--as he delectably did "If I Can't Change Your Mind"--I think he'd been well served to swap out a couple new tunes for some that have had a chance to germinate a bit more. ("Stupid Now," "Underneath Days," "Egøverride," "Lucifer and God" and the Sugar B-side "Needle Hits E" being just a few possibilities among those I cherish.)

I hope these are taken as the minor quibbles that I intend them, for once again Bob Mould delighted me plenty.

And among friends, with a balcony seat, at a classic Chicago venue, what's 1/2@ mean anyway?

It Doesn't Get Eddie Vedder Than This: Pearl Jam Powerfully Celebrates Heroes Across Two Winning Nights at Wrigley -- Chicago Concert Review

Concert Review

Pearl Jam

Wrigley Field, Chicago 

August 18 & 20, 2018
(both shows attended)

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In life, the way I try to live it, experience and enjoyment and enlightenment and memories and music are more important than numbers, statistics and database entries.

So in reviewing a concert--or in this case, a pair of concerts by the same artist--I try to gauge and share my admiration and appreciation at face value, in the here and now.

But in addition to saving all my ticket stubs, and writing reviews to post here, I keep track of all rock concerts I attend in a Filemaker "Shows Seen" database, as well as (less comprehensively) on Setlist.fm. (I also have a Shows Seen database for theater performances, which lumps in opera, classical & jazz concerts, comedy, ballet, dance, circus and other live art forms.)

So I can readily tell you that the two Pearl Jam concerts I attended, last Saturday and Monday at Wrigley Field, represented the 19th and 20th times I'd seen the Seattle band live.

Coming just days after having seen the Smashing Pumpkins for the 20th time--albeit with a far less consistent lineup--Pearl Jam is the fourth rock act I've seen this often, following U2 (22) and Bruce Springsteen, far in the lead with 50 shows.

Even more pertinent to this review, this was the fifth time I'd done a Pearl Jam double, meaning back-to-back shows.

So while I thought the band sounded great both nights, it especially didn't matter to me that Saturday's pacing wasn't idyllic and Monday was 1/2-hour shorter due to a thunderstorm delay. (Unlike in 2013, the band didn't take the stage until after the storms came and cleared.)

And although, in the universe of Pearl Jam concerts, Saturday night's show might have only merited @@@@1/2 (on a 5@ scale), I relished the band digging a bit deeper into their catalog, for songs like "Breakerfall," "Present Tense," "Can't Deny Me," "Footsteps" and "Alone," even if none rank among my top PJ tunes. (See the 8/18/18 Pearl Jam setlist here.)

Of 60 songs played across the two nights, only six were performed on both.

I don't believe anyone attending either of the shows got gypped, but have come to appreciate that--with heavily revised setlists night-to-night--a pair of Pearl Jam concerts can be appropriately viewed as companion pieces.

Monday's show, which didn't get underway until 9:30pm due to the storms, skipped to the band's typical low-boil start to open with more fervor--"Given to Fly," "Why Go," "Go," "Last Exit," "Mind Your Manners"--and would include "Jeremy" and "Black" (neither played Saturday) as well as the live debut of a Ten-era outtake, "Evil Little Goat." (See the 8/20/18 Pearl Jam setlist here.) 

Even from Wrigley Field's upper deck, Eddie Vedder's voice sounded as good as ever on both nights, and now into their 50s, the band--Stone Gossard, Jeff Ament, Mike McCready, Matt Cameron and touring musician Boom Gaspar--remain musically agile and sonically ferocious.

Adding significantly to both shows was the sense of occasion, for me personally as well as--from all
observations--for Eddie Vedder, an Evanston native and fellow lifelong, diehard Cubs fan.

After Pearl Jam played two shows at Wrigley in August 2016, the Chicago Cubs would win their first World Series in 108 years, with Vedder on hand to celebrate. A concert documentary, Let's Play Two, intertwined the Wrigley gigs with Cubs championship footage.

To be honest, the sold-out shows this time around weren't seemingly filled with Cubs-obsessed fans, as a number of mentions by Vedder didn't elicit the kind of roars one might expect.

Sure, when Cubs owner Tom Ricketts brought the World Series trophy onstage on Saturday there was substantial applause, but otherwise I had the sense that there were many out-of-towners, White Sox fans and others who didn't care much about the Cubs gathered at the Friendly Confines.

But although there were no musical guests as at Pearl Jam's recent Seattle ballpark shows, Vedder found many friends and heroes to celebrate.

Ex-Bull Dennis Rodman was on-hand Saturday, bringing a ukelele to the singer and making a brief speech somehow referencing North Korea.

Blackhawks legend Chris Chelios appeared Monday, giving Vedder a jersey memorializing another, the recently passed Stan Mikita.

Saturday, Pearl Jam performed "Missing," a Chris Cornell solo song (drummer Cameron was his Soundgarden bandmate) and Vedder led the crowd in a massive phone-light singalong of Tom Petty's "I Won't Back Down," after sharing that Petty had loved playing Wrigley last summer.

Other cover songs over the two shows included "Leaving Here" (Eddie Holland), "Know Your Rights" (The Clash), "Rebel Rebel" (David Bowie), "Rockin' in the Free World" (Neil Young), "Rain" (The Beatles)," a truly blistering "I Am a Patriot" (Little Steven), "We're Going to Be Friends" (The White Stripes) and, wrapping up Monday night, "Baba O'Riley" (The Who).

Vedder mentioned and thanked many Cubs players, manager Joe Maddon, the Ricketts family and team president Theo Epstein, donning a shirt in the latter's honor on Monday. And as he was in 2016, former New Orleans Saints player Steve Gleason, now stricken with ALS, was on hand, at least on Saturday. (Let's Play Two nicely chronicles his friendship with Mike McCready.)

And lest I'm making you think these were mainly nights for paying homage, pure joy was had in hearing Pearl Jam blast through "Rearviewmirror," "Porch," "Corduroy" and everything else, while singing "Alive" at the top of your lungs with 40,000 others never gets tiresome.

I can't deny being mildly chagrined at how few young people I saw in the crowd. I would like to hope some teens and twenty-somethings still love rock 'n roll, but at Pearl Jam and a recent Wrigley show by Foo Fighters, youth was rather scant.

Hopefully, any teens there to "check it out" despite only knowing a few Pearl Jam classics would have been dazzled by Vedder's voice, the musicianship, energy, many superb songs and tributes to musical & baseball heroes.

Given some of the setlist choices, they may have occasionally had their patience tested, and though a bit shorter, I think Monday wound up being the better show.

I even think I enjoyed the Foo Fighters' latest Wrigley show--they played two in July, but I only attended one, as they don't mix setlists up much--a smidgen more than either Pearl Jam concert, despite liking the band itself a bit less. (For the record, I've seen Foo Fighters 14 times, my fifth highest tally.)

But as I tried to establish above, loving these two Pearl Jam shows wasn't only about loving each of the Wrigley performances.

And having been a fan since shortly after the band's debut album, Ten, was released in 1991, it really "doesn't get Eddie Vedder than this."

---
From Monday, a clip of the rare "U" as posted to YouTube by PearlJamOnLine.

Playing His 'Greatest Hits Live,' Steve Winwood Looks Back, Selectively -- Chicago Concert Review

Concert Review

Steve Winwood 

w/ opening act Lilly Winwood

Chicago Theatre

February 22, 2017

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I doubt I'm the only one who thinks of Steve Winwood in terms of his early and late periods.

"Early Winwood"--roughly covering 1963-74--comprises his stints in the Spencer Davis Group, Traffic and Blind Faith, culminating when the the singer/songwriter/guitarist/keyboardist was just 25.

Loosely from 1977 to 1990, the British wunderkind had a number of high-charting solo albums and hit singles. Like many I imagine, I'm not too familiar with the three studio albums he released after that, meaning that at least in terms of peak popularity, the "Late Winwood" period ended by the age of 42.

In May, Steve Winwood will turn 70.

Presumably, few on hand Thursday evening at a packed Chicago Theatre for a tour openly promoted as "Greatest Hits Live," much cared that--as Winwood sounded strong vocally and instrumentally alongside four other excellent musicians--he didn't focus much on his work since the late period. 

Yes, for the first time ever, he played a song called "Domingo Morning" from his 2003 album About Time.

And there was also "Them Changes," a cover of a 1970 Buddy Miles song that Winwood played on his 2009 tour with Eric Clapton; if it was previously part of his repertoire, I'm not aware. 

But classics from the Spencer Davis Group (the opening "I'm a Man" and closing "Gimme Some Lovin'), Traffic ("Pearly Queen," "The Low Spark of High-Heeled Boys," "Empty Pages," "John Barleycorn," "Dear Mr. Fantasy") and Blind Faith ("Can't Find My Way Home," "Had to Cry Today") well represented "Early Winwood" in the 13-song, 90-minute show. (See the setlist on Setlist.fm)

Quite admittedly, I was a bit under the weather at the show, having stayed in bed all day and dragging myself down to the Chicago Theatre because I had a ticket and, well, one never knows how many more opportunities may exist to see the living legends. (It wasn't lost on me that I'd seen Winwood opening for Tom Petty in both 2008 and 2014. I'd also seen him back in 1986 and in-tandem with Clapton in 2009.)

So, acutely, I appreciated the relative brevity of Winwood's set, following a nice opening performance by his daughter Lilly, a rather fine singer.

And although my take on the concert was roughly congruent with a friend who attended separately--that several classic songs, most notably "Can't Find My Way Home" and "The Low Spark of High Heeled Boys," were well-performed, making for fine show with nothing that quite elevated it to an phenomenal one--it's certainly possible that my own fevered headspace impacted my enjoyment. 

But strictly from a critical standpoint, even if the omissions got me back to bed 20 minutes earlier, I think the setlist shortchanged the "Late Winwood" period I cited above.

With Lilly joining her dad and band at the end of the main set, only "Roll With It" and "Higher Love" represented Winwood's hit laden, MTV rotation years, with the former perhaps the nadir that prompts some fans to dismiss this era.

But I--at least theoretically--would love to have heard "While You See a Chance," "Arc of a Diver," "Valerie," "Back in the High Life Again" and/or "The Finer Things."

Along with "Higher Love," I think these are genuinely some of Steve Winwood's greatest hits and could have well-accompanied, or even replaced, a few of the other selections. 

And, again, perhaps due to my somewhat addled perception--and seat near the top of the Chicago, rather neatly next to a blind man soaking in just the music itself--I felt the concert needed a bit more oomph. 

And not just in terms of pumping up the volume a bit. 

Content to let the music do the talking, Winwood said almost nothing to the crowd. And with such a rich history to reflect upon, I think this would heightened the sense of connection I value in the very best concerts.

Whether in sharing a bit of context about the songs, or his old bands, or how proud he was to have his daughter opening the show for him, or any recollections of Chicago--which he made this tour's first stop--I would have liked the star to have engaged a bit more with the audience. 

But obviously, I got out of my sick bed for the music, and all of it was good, some of it thrilling. 

"Empty Pages" stands among the highlights and along with still being an excellent singer, Winwood reminded on "Them Changes" that he isn't just a legendary keyboardist, but a truly first-rate guitarist. (I was surprised to have read somewhere that in circa 1967 London, Winwood--not Page, Beck, Townsend, Richards and preceding Hendrix--was considered second-best to Clapton.)

Truth be told, had I known exactly the show I would get, I might have opted to stay in bed. It wasn't that special.

But once I'm fully recovered--I'm getting there--I'll be happy to have seen one of the all-time greats yet again. 

Even if some of his greatest hits were regrettably missing.

Proving Their Mettle, Tool Pummels Its Legion of Loyal Fans in Rosemont (and At Least One Newbie) -- Chicago Concert Review

Concert Review

Tool
w/ opening act Once & Future Band
Allstate Arena, Rosemont, IL
June 8, 2017
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Theoretically, this review should be written by an avowed Toolhead, who has long loved the thunderous quartet, enough to offer a holistic perspective while also casting a critical eye on Thursday's show.

For most rock concerts I go to--and therefore review--are by bands I love.

Sure this may sound astonishingly obvious, but in having attended over 700 concerts across 36 years, the vast majority were by artists I've opted to see multiple times (over the years, though occasionally in bunches).

There are relatively few acts I find myself "checking out" for a first time--especially as I don't get to festivals much anymore--but particularly as I love the art of live performance, I make a point of trying to widen my musical horizons.

Hence, over the years--including a good deal in just the past few--I've gone to several shows by previously-unseen artists I more "like" than "love," or perhaps am just curious about.

These, in no particular order, include Duran Duran, Hall & Oates, Tears for Fears, New Order, Judas Priest, Barry Manilow, Dave Matthews Band, Neil Diamond, Fleet Foxes, Taylor Swift, Earth Wind & Fire, Bryan Ferry, Blue Oyster Cult, Black Sabbath, Peter Wolf, Alice Cooper, The Black Keys, Poison, Steve Miller Band, Keith Urban, The Dixie Chicks, Leonard Cohen, LCD Soundsystem, Barry Gibb, The Tragically Hip, Moby, Charlatans UK, Placebo, Arctic Monkeys, Willie Nelson, Al Green, Teenage Fanclub, Graham Parker, Dawes and Adele, all of whom I've still seen just once (though for the most part enjoyed).

Whether prompted by my own sense that I "should see them" or the suggestion of music loving friends, these exploratory live forays--typically accompanied by delving into recordings--have occasionally raised my appreciation quite considerably.

To wit, I've now seen Arcade Fire, Depeche Mode, The Cure, Santana, System of a Down, Phish, Stevie Wonder, Rod Stewart, Madonna, Chicago and others (including Prince and Stone Temple Pilots) multiple times after first getting to them--live--relatively late.

Photo credit on this picture only: Gary Yokoyama / Hamilton Spectator
Taken at Tool's show in Hamilton, Ontario on May 31.

Which is my typically circuitous way of addressing how & why I went to see alt-metal titans Tool on Thursday night despite not knowing any of their songs until a friend heralded them last year, the actual impetus for my curiosity. (Tool's first EP came out in 1992 and they've been fairly big concert headliners since not long after.)

Hence, unlike many of my concert reviews, this isn't written from the standpoint of a longtime fan, which clearly put me in the vast minority of the sold-out Allstate Arena crowd.

Especially as the band hasn't released a new album in 11 years, Tool's fanbase is extremely loyal, and--despite my getting a sense through considerable listening, reviews, word-of-mouth and YouTube--they knew what to expect much better than I.

This includes a vocalist whose face you never see, as Maynard James Keenan--who can be considered something of an anti-frontman--opts to stand, often quite shrouded, at the back of the stage next to drummer Danny Carey. On this tour at least, he has also outfitted him in police tactical gear, or something of the sort.

But while I can't claim to be a Tool fan going back decades, in anticipation for this show--well before it was announced--I acquired all five all of their studio albums (the first, Opiate, being an EP) and spent considerable time familiarizing myself with songs that frequented setlists.

So I appreciated that Tool's music has a density that sounds as if Black Sabbath merged with Rush and, perhaps a bit less so, King Crimson or other prog rock giants. (Opening act Once & Future Band prompted me to scribble down "Rush, Yes, Genesis, Pink Floyd, King Crimson" though they weren't nearly as good as any of those bands nor the headliner.)

Though I won't say I came to "love" Tool's oeuvre coming into the show--or upon exiting it for that matter--I enjoyed the video, lights & lasers-abetted thunder of songs like "The Grudge,"  which opened the concert, and particularly "Schism," "Opiate" and "Ænema," which bludgeoned me consecutively not long thereafter.

While I found "Third Eye" to be particularly long and sludgy, and despite the obvious talents--and massive biceps--of drummer Danny Carey, who adorned a Michael Jordan jersey, I could have done without his drum solo following a brief set break, there wasn't any music I heard that I didn't sufficiently enjoy.

I can understand the appeal of Tool and expect & hope most in the passionate crowd truly loved the show. That it didn't provide the emotional embrace for me that U2 did over the weekend is undoubtedly due to differing levels and lengths of fandom, and isn't a knock on the band or its followers.

That Keenan does things a bit differently than most rock singers certainly deserves no derision, though I would have welcomed a bit of humor--or just some self-aware levity--being mixed into the proceedings, which couldn't help but make me think of Spinal Tap at times.

From what I'd read about past performances, Keenan probably spoke a bit more at Allstate than is customary, but didn't really seem to say anything all that compelling, beyond urging the audience to question authority, apparently an underlying theme in Tool's lyrics.

I get that this is a band that doesn't lead audience singalongs or engage in "How ya doing Chicago?" localized pandering, but given that the setlists are pretty static across tour stops--see what Tool played in Rosemont on Setlist.fm--the show ultimately felt a bit rote, even cold, despite the impressively muscular musicality of Keenan, Carey, bassist Justin Chancellor and guitarist Adam Jones.

Jones is a Libertyville native who grew up with Tom Morello--see Wikipedia for how their friendship helped lead to Tool's formation--and his bringing a child onstage at the end was one of the few overtly humanistic moments of a Tool concert that was, while often blistering, a bit too mechanical for my preferences. 

@@@@ (out of 5) earmarks a show I enjoyed and was glad to have attended, but not one I would effusively recommend to others nor is likely to bring me back for an encore (if not several).

As with most "word-of-mouth or curiosity" concerts I attend, with a sense of appreciation for the artist if not vast inherent affinity, that's where this Tool show fairly falls for me.

I'm glad I've come to know their music far more than I had. When the band finally puts out another album--they haven't had a new one since 2006's 10,000 Days--I'll be happy to give it a listen.

But while, in Rosemont, I was musically, sonically and visually impressed, and at times dazzled, in sum I wasn't quite blown away.

I'll accept this as a matter of taste, and not a barometer of quality, and would be happy to hear what hardcore Tool fans thought of this show.

Absolution is Out of the Question: The Replacements Remain Unapologetically Raggedy as Their Music Remains Irreplaceable -- Chicago Concert Review

Concert Review

The Replacements
w/ opening act Smoking Popes
Riviera Theatre, Chicago
April 30, 2015 (also played April 29)
@@@@1/2 (for entire evening)

Absolution is out of the question
It makes no sense to apologize
The words I thought I brought I left behind
So never mind

The opening lines of "Never Mind," a song I've loved for decades since buying--initially on cassette--Pleased to Meet Me, the 1987 album that was my introduction to the Replacements, can serve as something of a microcosm for the concert I attended with a group of friends on Thursday night.

Lead singer and songwriter Paul Westerberg--accompanied by bassist Tommy Stinson and a couple replacements for Replacements of yore who are either dead, infirm or otherwise absent from the Back by Unpopular Demand semi-reunion tour--certainly left behind a number of words, and even entire verses, of songs from one of the most brilliant and personally-cherished catalogs in rock history.

I won't guess at the means or measures of inebriation and/or other impairment, but along with much lyrical butchering--though the music, likely thanks to the steadiness of drummer Josh Freese and guitarist Dave Minehan, usually sounded swell, even ferocious--Westerberg threw his setlist into the audience midway through (he seemingly wasn't much heeding to it anyway), bantered somewhat inanely with Stinson and the crowd, appeared to chastise and/or confuse Minihan at several points, stood precariously on a stool while singing "Customer" and ended the main set by performing "Alex Chilton" while prone on his back within an onstage tent. (See video below)

Which probably prompts many of you to say either "WTF?" or "Yup, that's the Replacements."

Or both.

During their initial 1979-91 run together, the Minneapolis band developed a reputation for drunk, disheveled shows that could be brilliant or awful or a good bit of each.

In addition to this legacy preceding them, it somewhat preceded me, as having missed a chance to see the Mats--a moniker derived from Placemats, itself derived from Replacements--in 1987 at the Aragon, I first saw them opening for Tom Petty at Poplar Creek in 1989 and at the Hollywood Palladium in early 1991, long after original guitarist Bob Stinson was fired for being too drunk even for the notoriously debaucherous band.

Though the Replacements would split up onstage at a free concert in Grant Park on July 4, 1991--I didn't attend despite being in Chicago on a trip from my then-home in L.A., but heard it on WXRT--I seem to recall the band edging toward relative professionalism by the time I caught them in concert.

And when the current foursome played at Riot Fest in Chicago in 2013--one of three shows representing the Mats' first performances since 1991--I was delighted by how good they were (as I wrote here).

That show was especially gratifying, not just as a glorious reminder of how much I love the Replacements' music, but because in 2005 at the most recent of a handful of solo Westerberg shows I've seen, his antics went well beyond silly and sloppy into truly disgraceful territory.

The latter wasn't quite the case on Thursday, at least not until rather late into the 90-minute set. 

Even with all the juvenalia Westerberg--who's now 55--and to a lesser extent, Tommy Stinson, exhibited, perhaps undermining the exalted place in rock's pantheon the Mats always deserved but never quite commercially achieved, the show was far more good than bad and I'm damn glad I went.

After another longtime favorite, the Smoking Popes--a great band emanating from Chicago's far northwest suburbs--opened the show with a fantastic 45-minute set that had me and my friends already satisfied with the evening's entertainment value, the Mats took the stage with "Takin' a Ride" from their 1980 debut, Sorry, Ma, Forgot to Take Out the Trash!, followed by "Hangin' Downtown" from the same LP.

Although these songs lack the brilliant lyricism Westerberg would develop just a few years later--the mid '80s trio of albums, Let It Be, Tim and Pleased to Meet Me are all just phenomenal--I thought the Mats sounded great, even tight, as they blasted the already paint-peeling walls of the Riv.

The Smoking Popes

The third song in, "Color Me Impressed," certainly did, and a great take on Tim's "Left of the Dial" had me rather ecstatic.

I was delighted when "Little Mascara" followed, as it is one of the most acute examples of Westerberg's wonderful way with words, such as on the ingenious couplet:

All you ever wanted was someone
to take care of ya 
All you're ever losin' is 
a little mascara

Thus, I couldn't help but cringe a bit when Westerberg couldn't make it through the song's first verse without flubbing the lyrics.

The rest of the show was a similar dichotomy, mixing songs I was simply enthralled to be hearing once again--"Nobody," "I Will Dare," "Can't Hardly Wait," "Bastards of Young," "Merry Go Round," "Never Mind"--with some "that's just them" sloppiness but also half-assed cover songs and genuinely asinine exploits. (See the Replacements' Thursday setlist from the Riviera at Setlist.fm)

My friends generally agreed after the show that the lunacy seemed legitimate--and likely fueled by excessive intakes--not some disingenuous attempt by Westerberg and Stinson to act half their age...and less. Although the tent episode seemed especially odd, given that the roadies just happened to have a tent on hand (and YouTube reveals the prop has been used on prior shows on this tour).

Yet with whatever intent the in-tent nuttiness was enacted, upon which one could imagine Westerberg being hastily straitjacketed into detox, the band followed it was a deliriously blistering single encore of "I.O.U."

All told, I couldn't help but sense that I was seeing the type of Replacements show I might have in 1985: sloppy, unpredictable, at times scintillating, others exasperating.

Never minding absolution, there was something forgivably appropriate about such a chaotic mess of a seemingly money-grabbing reunion tour by a band that never really cashed in, perhaps due to their own raggedy excesses.

To have them be on their best behavior and note-perfect--or at least more maturely deferential to substantive ticket prices and professional in a way I expect from most performers I see--may have been preferential in parts, but also seemingly wouldn't have truly been the Replacements.

At least of old (if not their theoretically more grown-up selves). 

As such, abetted by a sublime set from the Smoking Popes, devoid of just one song I really wanted to hear--"I'll Be You," which I didn't get at Riot Fest either; it was played at Wednesday's show at the Riv--and grading not so much on technical merit as overall enjoyment of the evening, if this wasn't truly a @@@@1/2 show for the ages, it was a satisfactory enough replacement for those of us now a bit more aged.

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Below are two clips I shot, the last two songs played: "Alex Chilton" with singer Paul Westerberg in a tent, and the show-closing "I.O.U."