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Did I just quote the Bay City Rollers?!? Damn, I'm getting desperate...
WELL, ISN'T THAT SPECIAL?
Democrap John Edwards admitted yesterday that he cheated on his wife while she had cancer, which is about as low as Dubya's approval ratings in my book. I was never crazy about him to begin with because he always came off to me as seeming like a televangelist, and whaddya know—he has exhibited the typical behavior of one. It pains me to say this, but I guess Ann Coulter was right after all—John Edwards is a total pussy!
MY GREATEST BRUSH WITH GREATNESS
A little unfinished business here, as I forgot to include this in my review of the John Entwistle concert at which I got the man's otto-graph on my Who By Numbers CD insert. This is not a forgery—the Ox really did sign it. Honest! He really did...
ANCIENT CHINESE SECRET, HUH?
How else do you explain how that dude with the torch "flew" around the rim of the stadium in Beijing during the opening ceremonies for the Olympics? Sadly, we're barely a day and a half into the whole thing, and already there's been an Olympic-related death. I have a feeling there will be more...
THANK YOU, MOTHER NATURE!
A week ago tonight, I barricaded myself in my 9' x 12' bedroom with the frosty window-unit air conditioner because it was 97 degrees outdoors with humidity to match. Today's high was about 20 degrees cooler than that and I was able to mow my yard without drowning in my own sweat.
A RETRACTION, OF SORTS
Regular readers of this blog may remember me ripping on the "Gene Simmons Family Jewels" television program a time or two. Well, at the risk of flip-flopping, I have to admit that the show ain't so bad. The installment that finally won me over was when Gene was backstage at the Kiss concert where Paul Stanley fell ill last year and was unable to perform, so I decided to watch the show from the beginning on DVD, and I have to admit it actually is rather humorous in places, although Gene's son Nick is the really funny one. As I've stated before on here, I give Gene and Shannon credit for raising two kids with their heads on straight. Nick and Sophie certainly seem to be able to handle being famous a lot better than Jack and Kelly Osbourne ever did. I still maintain that a lot of the shit they do on the show is staged, as some of the predicaments Gene finds himself in have a decidedly Lucy Ricardo quality to them. But if you don't take the show too seriously, it's rather entertaining. HOWEVER, this is not an endorsement of the reality TV genre—it's still mostly bullshit to me!
As for Gene, I still find it very disconcerting how the man obsesses over money—he's worse than Mr. Drysdale ever was!
Why shouldn’t I? I’m writing the blasted thing!
POLITICS SCHMOLITICS
Why do the candidates have to utter that stupid phrase even on the commercials where they’re the one doing all the talking? And John McCain using Paris Hilton in his campaign ads to slam Obama—aren’t we getting a tad desperate, Big John?
AND IF I AM ELECTED…
…my first official act will be to outlaw electioneering at the polls. I get so sick of this every time I go to vote and wind up being hounded by these schmucks passing out their leaflets and flyers for their candidates and issues. On Tuesday, I was accosted by this old redneck Shriner who practically hovered over my car until I got out just to tell me all about his Republican hero that I wasn’t about to vote for anyway.
WE FORSAKE YOU, GONNA RAPE YOU, LET’S FORGET YOU BETTER STILL…PHILL
There was one thing I was sure proud to see in Tuesday’s results—Johnson County district attorney Phill Kline getting whooped by the other Republican in the primary. I don’t live in Johnson County, Kansas, but I work there, and I’m tickled to see this Neolithic dipshit lose. For the uninitiated, Mr. Phill (yes, that’s how he spells his first name) is the over-zealous anti-abortion activist who when he was Kansas Attorney General, violated patient privacy laws in his attempt to shut down numerous abortion clinics in the state to further his political agenda. I thought Kline was well on his way to mangling up the much-publicized Kelsey Smith murder trial until the loser that killed her admitted his guilt. I still find it very disingenuous that Mr. “Pro-Lifer” Kline was going to seek the death penalty on the creep if the trial had gone the distance. Now Phill can go crawl back under his rock, but fat chance he will…
SKIP CARAY, 1939-2008
Sad news out of the baseball world over the weekend with the passing of Atlanta Braves announcer Skip Caray. I was a huge fan of his dad Harry Caray during the ‘80s while watching the Cubs on WGN, but Skip became a favorite of mine as well. I don’t really give a rip about the Braves, but I always enjoyed their telecasts, particularly when Skip was paired with either Ernie Johnson or Pete Van Wieren. As much as I loved Harry and his “homer-ism” histrionics as the ultimate Cub Fan/Bud Man, I loved Skip’s relaxed low-key style just as much, as well as his sardonic sense of humor, like when he would read the promos for whatever upcoming TBS late movie followed the ballgame, and no one could utter the name “Chipper Jones” quite like him. Skip wasn’t afraid to give an honest answer either, like the time in the ‘80s when Van Wieren asked him if he liked the San Diego Padres’ new uniforms. “Not really,” was Skip’s reply. None of that sugar-coating like you get from so many of today’s play-by-play guys, including Skip’s own son, Chip, who I used to really like when he was with the Cubs, but now that he’s the main voice of TBS’ Game of The Week coverage, not so much. Sadly, Chip is morphing into Joe Buck, Jr., and that’s not good. Anyway, rest in peace, Skip…
ON THE MEND
Evidently, actor Morgan Freeman is not an excellent driver, as he got banged-up pretty good the other day in a car accident near his home in Mississippi. I’m very familiar with the highway he wrecked on, as it’s the same road where my uncle used to live near the town of Charleston. I was unaware that Freeman lived in that area, and even more surprised to learn that he was driving a 1997 Toyota. One would think that an Oscar-winning actor could afford a better ride than that, but then again, an 11-year-old rice-burner actually IS a luxury car in that neck of the woods! And I suppose it’s easier for him to blend in driving a car like that than some Hummer that would stand out like that token white couple on the dance floor on “Soul Train”. Hopefully, Freeman will be up and narrating again in no time at all.
UNCLEAR OF THE CONCEPT?
I passed a church on the way home last night with a big sign promoting its upcoming Oktoberfest celebration—scheduled for September 9-13! What’s the hurry? Does this mean Christmas will be held on Thanksgiving this year, too?
MARK MY WORDS
Brett Favre playing for the New York Jets is going to be shades of Johnny Unitas with the Chargers and Joe Namath with the Rams in the ‘70s—i.e., it’s going to be ugly, folks. Meantime, I haven’t decided which is worse—the way Favre has dominated the preseason headlines on ESPN, or the way the Michael Vick thing did at this time last year. In both cases, their omnipresence is suffocating.
I’D RATHER WALK!
I heard on the news last night that the venerable JetBlue airline will now start charging passengers $10 a head (literally) for pillows! Why don’t the airlines just jack up the airfares instead of nickel-and-diming people over every little amenity in flight? Meantime, an easy way to circumvent this silly charge is to just roll up a pair of sweatpants in your carry-on bag—they make great pillows in a pinch…
CLASSIC MISHEARD LYRIC #92
“Happiness Is A Warm Gun”—THE BEATLES (1968) “Mother Superior jumped the gun.” It took me a few spins to figure out that Lennon wasn’t singing “Mothers who fear it jump the gun.”
BEST OF THE WORST
I read somewhere on the ‘Net the other day that the late George Carlin and the late Richard Pryor were both voted the greatest comedians of all-time. No argument there in either case, but it got me to wondering who the worst comedians of all-time are. Here’s my list:
10) Frank Caliendo (His John Madden impressions are impressive, but that’s about it)
9) Sinbad (This guy has yet to make me laugh)
8) Richard Belzer (Ditto)
7) Jimmie Walker (About as jive as you can get)
6) Martin Mull (Martin Dull is more accurate)
5) Father Guido Sarducci (He’s a great cure for insomnia)
4) Bob Saget (Laughing at one’s own jokes is never the sign of a good comedian)
3) Al Franken (This guy is just a snarky smart-ass to me, and his political leanings are totally irrelevant in my eyes)
2) Chevy Chase (Overrated as all get-out for that first season on “SNL”)
1) [tie] Carrot Top/Pauly Shore (Self-explanatory)
91) Motorhead/Nashville Pussy/New American Shame (Friday, October 8, 1999—Roadhouse Ruby’s) Ticket price: $18.00
I became a convert to the church of Motorhead in the late ‘80s thanks to MTV’s “Headbanger’s Ball”, and I’d been dying to see Lemmy and the boys in concert for the longest time, but this was the first time (that I knew of, anyway) that they came to town since I got into the band. I had to sit through two opening acts for this one, neither of which were particularly good.
First off, we had New American Shame, who lived up to their name—assuming they were new and American. They played lame-o Rap-influenced thrash metal and a cover version of Quiet Riot’s “Metal Health”, and that’s about it. Their occasional usage of sparklers and other garden-variety fireworks was interesting, but nothing for Kiss to worry about. The four-piece co-ed band Nashville Pussy was next, and they featured a chick guitarist who resembled a cross between Lita Ford and Wendy O. Williams. The redneck singer looked like he belonged in a Southern band, and he couldn’t sing worth a lick. The bassist was a tall gangly-looking person whom I thought was a dude at first, but upon closer inspection was a chick! She even did some fire-breathing that almost made Gene Simmons look like an amateur, doing not just one, but five bursts of flame, including three in one breath! Nashville Pussy wrapped up their set with a cover of the song that indirectly inspired their name, Ted Nugent’s “Wang Dang Sweet Poontang”. NP was a fairly energetic band, if not musically-gifted—your basic White Trash Rock band.
And finally the mighty Motorhead arrived as Brother Lemmy stepped up to the mic and declared, “We are Motorhead—and we’re gonna kick your ass!” And kick our ass, they did. Opening with their classic “Bomber”, the next hour and a half was pure volume, and to my surprise, the sound was quite good throughout. Now a three-piece outfit with longtime stalwart Phil Campbell on guitar and Mikkey Dee on drums, Motorhead played a good mix of older and newer stuff and it was pure bedlam, especially on the dance floor where all the boneheads were moshing and being thrown out by the bouncers. By the way, is there not a more asinine activity invented by man than moshing? Anyway, Lemmy was his usual humorous self, offering sage advice before one song by cautioning, “Don’t try to dance to this—it’ll fuck your legs up.” And being’s as we were in Olathe, KS, Lemmy referred to us as “almost Kansas City” a couple times.
During the rather obscure oldie “Dead Men Tell No Tales”, I wandered up to the front just as I did at the same venue exactly a year ago to the day during the John Entwistle show, and gave myself a little brain damage standing by the speakers. It was beyond loud—stupid loud is more like it! The set ended with the Motorhead classic “Killed By Death”, followed by a brief encore of their signature tune “Ace Of Spades” and “Overkill”. It was a great show, albeit a tad short for my liking, as they left out a lot of biggies that they could have played. As I also did at the Entwistle concert, I waited around afterwards in hopes of maybe meeting Lemmy, but after about 30 minutes of the bouncers being rude to everyone, I got tired of standing around with all the stupid drunk fucks in line out by the tour bus, so I split. Still and all, not a bad evening of entertainment.
SET LIST: Bomber/No Class/I’m So Bad (Baby I Don’t Care)/Over Your Shoulder/Civil War/Metropolis/Take The Blame/Nothing Up My Sleeve/Overnight Sensation/Dead Men Tell No Tales/Born To Raise Hell/Sacrifice/ Orgasmatron/Going To Brazil/Iron Fist/Killed By Death ENCORES: Ace Of Spades/Overkill
92) Kiss/Ted Nugent/Skid Row (Wednesday, April 5, 2000—Alltel Arena, North Little Rock, AR) Ticket price: $45.00
When Kiss announced their “Farewell” Tour in 2000, I took it semi-seriously that this truly was the end for good, but I kinda knew deep down inside that it wasn’t. After all, The Who played their “Farewell” Tour trump card in 1982 and I’d seen them twice since then. In any event, I was determined to catch Kiss as many times as I could on this tour, and didn’t mind hitting the road to do so. As it turned out, it was their Farewell Tour in a way, as this most certainly was the last time we’d see the original foursome in make-up on tour.
Alltel Arena, located just across the river from "big" Little Rock, was a brand new and very handsome structure both inside and out, which made me wonder at the time why a mid-size city like Little Rock could build a classy new arena and a big town like K.C. couldn’t. We finally got our shit together here with the Sprint Center, but it didn’t sit well with me that we were being shown up by places like Little Rock, Omaha and Oklahoma City, et al. Anyway, I was quite pleased with my assigned seat, which was on the stage left side, dead even with the front of the stage and about 15 yards from the corner of it. It turned out to be an excellent vantage point. I was close enough that I could even see the large sign taped at the base of the mic stands that read “LITTLE ROCK” so the guys wouldn’t forget what city they were in. Apparently that strategy still doesn’t always work for Gene Simmons, as later on in the tour Gene shouted out, “I wanna hear ya, Kansas City!”—in St. Louis. That’s the Rock ‘N’ Roll equivalent to wearing a Yankees cap at Fenway Park.
Skid Row hit the stage promptly at 7:00 and played a seven-song set which included all four big hits off their 1989 debut album. I wasn’t all that impressed with Sebastian Bach’s replacement, new singer Johnny Solinger, who looked and sounded like David Lee Roth, only stockier. Guitarist Snake Szabo was limited to sitting on a bar stool all night and playing because his foot was in a cast, but all in all, a decent set. My ex-idol Fred Nugent came on later and overall, he played a much better set this time than the one he played here the year before (see Episode 18). Still, I was already weary of Nugent’s Alpha-male, macho-man, gun-toting, intolerant get-out-of-America-if-you-can’t-speak-English shtick and all his other right-wing diatribes. He was also on this anti-Janet Reno kick at this show, calling her an “ugly whore” numerous times. Granted, the woman looks like the “part of the Polaroid you tear off,” (as Fred Sanford would say), and for all we know, maybe she was/is indeed a whore, but what the filth-flarn-filth does this have to do with a Rock ‘N’ Roll show?!? Oh, and heaven forbid if anyone called Laura Bush an “ugly whore”, right Ted? Nugent ended his set by once again shooting his defenseless (decoy) guitar with a flaming arrow from 15 paces while wearing an Indian—sorry, Native American—headdress for no particular reason. Whatever, Ted. As Fred Sanford also once said (to Merv Griffin): “I used to like you—dummy!”
SET LIST: Stormtroopin’/Paralyzed/Wang Dang Sweet Poontang/Free-For-All/Dog Eat Dog/Kiss My Ass/Cat Scratch Fever/Stranglehold ENCORE: Great White Buffalo
I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from Kiss this time around, especially in light of their rather shaky performance during the opening three numbers that were aired live on VH-1 from the first show of the “Farewell” Tour in Phoenix the week before. That show began with a little ten-minute video retrospective on Kiss’s career, but they dispensed with the little movie for this show and got right down to business with the band making their entrance from the top of the lighting rig via a smoking platform that was lowered to the stage. “Detroit Rock City” was returned to its proper lead-off spot on the set list and was followed by “Deuce” in (naturally) the #2 spot. The stage was big and open and very impressive (see pic) and the pyro was plentiful. Still wearing the Destroyer costumes held over from the truncated Psycho Circus tour, the band was in top form, except for drummer Peter Criss. He didn’t seem very into things at all, and did not sing his usual verses on “Black Diamond” (Paul Stanley sang the entire song) and “Beth” was omitted from the set list altogether. I came to find out later that Pete had pnuemonia and was taken to the hospital immediately after the show, but he recovered eventually.
As was expected, Kiss also added three songs from the ‘80s post-make-up era that Peter and Ace had no part in originally, namely “Heaven’s On Fire”, “Lick It Up” and “I Love It Loud”. The only real surprise inclusion on the set list was the Rolling Stones cover track “2000 Man” from Dynasty, which doubled as Ace Frehley’s guitar solo outlet. Highlights of the set were “Let Me Go, Rock ‘N’ Roll” (big favorite of mine) and “Do You Love Me?”, which they augmented with montages from the omitted little movie. In a rather nice touch, Stanley also took a moment to reminisce with the crowd about the first time Kiss ever played Little Rock (reciting the exact date and venue, no less) at the old Barton Coliseum. They did the usual encores of “Black Diamond” and “Rock And Roll All Nite”, followed by the requisite confetti storm, and by the time it ended, I felt as if I’d been raped, pillaged and sodomized, and I loved it! Even with Criss’ illness, this may have been the finest Kiss concert I’d seen to date, and it certainly left me wanting more.
SET LIST: Detroit Rock City/Deuce/Shout It Out Loud/I Love It Loud/Shock Me/Firehouse/ Do You Love Me?/Calling Dr. Love/Psycho Circus/Heaven’s On Fire/Let Me Go, Rock ‘N’ Roll/2000 Man/Lick It Up/God Of Thunder/Cold Gin/100,000 Years/Love Gun/Black Diamond ENCORE: Rock And Roll All Nite
93) John Hiatt/Shannon Curfman (Thursday, June 15, 2000—Uptown Theater) Ticket price: $25.00
It had been over 14 years since I’d set foot in the Uptown Theater. There was a pretty good reason, though—the place had been dormant for most of the late ‘80s and on into the ‘90s, and fell into disrepair. Fortunately, the Uptown was rescued from a date with the wrecking ball and brought back to life bigger and better than ever following an outstanding restoration project.
The opening act was the 14-year-old-going-on-15 wunderkind Shannon Curfman, who wasn’t even born yet the last time I visited the Uptown. Curfman was sort of a female Jonny Lang crossed with Melissa Etheridge, and she played guitar like a veteran in spite of her age, and the crowd was very receptive to her. This was certainly a first for me at a concert—our opening act was young enough to be my daughter!
This was my third go-around with Mr. Hiatt in concert, and another fine performance indeed. This time ‘round, he dubbed his touring band “The Goners”, and they were more or less the same group that backed John on his classic 1988 Slow Turning album, thus that album got quite a few spins on the set list, including the opening number, “Drive South”. Guitarist Sonny Landreth was the standout with his impressive slide work on songs like “Ride Along” and “Paper Thin”. Hiatt also debuted a couple new songs, including one I really liked called “Everybody Went Low”, and he dug out “Ridin’ With The King” and paid tribute to Eric Clapton and B.B. King for their recent cover version of the song. Between songs, John remarked about doing some “power walking in Mill Creek Park”, that day just across the road from where I worked at the time. Wish I’d known, I might’ve run into him on my lunch hour, perhaps. He also did some name-dropping and made mention of dining at local legend Gates BBQ, a place I practically live at sometimes!
It was a general admission show for the floor area, and as the show wore on, I inched closer and closer to the stage, and by the time Hiatt moved over to stage left to play electric piano for a couple songs, I managed to weasel my way within about five yards of the man in front of the stage. A raucous version of “Tennessee Plates” ended the show, and Hiatt did three more tunes for an encore, closing with “Slow Turning” to thunderous applause. My only disappointment was that John didn’t play anything from my favorite Hiatt album Perfectly Good Guitar, but apart from that, it was another great show from one of my favorite songwriters of all-time. If you haven’t seen John Hiatt in concert yet, I highly urge you to do so—you’ll have a good time.
SET LIST: Drive South/Ride Along/Little Head/Paper Thin/Feels Like Rain/Everybody Went Low/Let It Slip Away/Cry Love/Is Anybody There?/Memphis In The Meantime/Ridin’ With The King/Tennessee Plates ENCORES: Have A Little Faith In Me/Thing Called Love/Slow Turning
94) Kiss/Ted Nugent/Skid Row* (Friday, August 25, 2000—Sandstone Amphitheater) Ticket price: $79.00 [*=Did not see this act perform]
After seeing Kiss in Little Rock back in April, I spent the summer of 2000 wondering when (or even if) they would play Kansas City on their “Farewell” Tour, but when the date was finally announced, I was very pleased at how the tour dates shook out to include several other nearby cities. In the past, I’d done entire vacations built around seeing baseball stadiums and hockey arenas, and this time I decided to do a true Rock ‘N’ Roll road trip and be like a (Grateful) Dead Head and follow Kiss around for a few gigs after Kansas City. Even better, I was also able to work in a concert on my little mini-tour by this other band I really like called The Who.
My friend Tom and I hooked up at Sandstone with a co-worker of mine and his wife who were big Kiss fans just after Skid Row’s set. This the first (and only) time I ever got to sit in Sandstone’s lower seating bowl (i.e., the primo seats), and I set a personal record for the most money I’ve ever spent on a single concert ticket ($79.00), a record I have no desire—let alone intention—of ever breaking. The first thing we noticed upon our arrival was that the light-up Kiss logos were parked on the left and right sides of the stage instead of airborne at the rear of the set, thanks to Sandstone’s rinky-dink Erector Set stage layout. Have I ever mentioned how much I loathe this venue on this blog? No? I coulda swore I did…
Fred Nugent altered his opening set slightly from last time, reinserting “Fred Bear”, complete with center stage campfire that was totally redundant on this 95-degree night. The rest was same old, same old from Nugent, and he was still talking out of his ass about those who don’t speak English, which actually got him removed from the bill at Kiss’s Houston gig on this tour. The man could still play guitar with the best of them, but he sounded like an immature 17-year-old instead of a 51-year-old man with “family values”. Whatever, Ted…
SET LIST: Stormtroopin’/Paralyzed/Wang Dang Sweet Poontang/Free-For-All/Dog Eat Dog/Fred Bear/Kiss My Ass/Cat Scratch Fever/Stranglehold ENCORE: Great White Buffalo
As always with Kiss, the set change was short and efficient and they got to work right on time. They sounded pretty good, and were much more energetic than I expected, given the sauna bath we were in, particularly Ace and Paul. In fact, given the weather and all, I wondered why the hell we weren’t doing this concert in the nice cool air-conditioning of Kemper Arena, which was probably sitting dormant in the stockyards that night. About four songs into the show, Peter Criss removed the top portion of his costume, and I was a tad horrified to see how much weight he had gained—he was damn near as big as me! “Better lay off the chalupas, there, Pete!” I quipped to Tom. Anyway, Brother Frehley was “on” from the get-go, running around a lot more than I’d seen him do in the past, and playing like a man possessed. Paul Stanley was in vintage form that night too, and showed no outward signs of any of the physical ailments (bad knees, hips, etc.) that I’d been reading about. Gene Simmons seemed a tad subdued, but was in good voice (for him, anyway).
Another feature I enjoyed was the chicks in the front row flashing their breasts to the band when they and appeared on the video screens several times. In fact, since Sandstone’s in-house video screens were so cheesy, Kiss just slapped their own right over top of them! Unfortunately, because of Sandstone’s space limitations, the stage risers that Gene, Paul and Ace rode up and down on were rendered almost useless. The set list was virtually the same as the Little Rock show, apart from a healthy (if not skinny) Peter Criss being able to sing “Beth” again and Stanley singing about ¾ of “I Still Love You” before segueing into “Black Diamond”, on which Peter sang his usual parts again.
It also just happened to be Gene’s birthday that night, so during the encores, Mr. Stanley led the audience in serenading our favorite bat-lizard. The roadies toted out this cake in the shape of two gi-normous tits, which Gene took two licks from, then tossed into the crowd after a couple photo-ops. I thought we might see a bit more fireworks to end the show since we were outdoors and all, but it was merely the standard Kiss fare, which still doesn’t suck. My little Rock ‘N’ Roll journey was most definitely off to a flying start…
SET LIST: Detroit Rock City/Deuce/Shout It Out Loud/I Love It Loud/Shock Me/Firehouse/ Do You Love Me?/Calling Dr. Love/Heaven’s On Fire/Let Me Go, Rock ‘N’ Roll/2000 Man/Psycho Circus/ Lick It Up/God Of Thunder/Cold Gin/100,000 Years/Love Gun/I Still Love You/Black Diamond ENCORES: Beth/Happy Birthday To You (To Gene)/Rock And Roll All Nite
95) The Who/UnAmerican (Sunday, August 27, 2000—Reunion Arena, Dallas, TX) Ticket price: $50.00
Two days after the Kiss Sandstone gig, I “felt a hot wind on my shoulder” as I hit the road for the Lone Star State, driving my poor little Toyota rental car against a stiff southerly wind in 100-degree heat down I-35 through Oklahoma and Texas. I think a camel might’ve been a more appropriate mode of transportation, but in any event, I got to Big D in one piece for a gig with Da Who.
I was quite impressed with the then-20-year-old Reunion Arena in Dallas. The sightlines are excellent, the seats are comfortable and the concourses were clean and classy-looking, unlike those at Kemper Arena here. Within walking distance of the scene of the big crime (the Kennedy assassination), Reunion was also the scene of the crime just a couple months before when my beloved New Jersey Devils won the Stanley Cup there over the Dallas Stars on Jason Arnott’s overtime goal in Game 6, and I found it kinda sad that such a nice relatively new arena was due to be replaced so soon by the American Airlines Center. Although Reunion has still been used to host the Big 12 women’s basketball Tournament and such, its days appear to be numbered now. Damn shame…
The opening act was a British band called UnAmerican, and I was quite UnDerwhelmed by them. Just another run-of-the-mill Alternative band, and I was already bored with them after the first song. Very UnImpressive…
I wasn’t sure what to expect this time from The Who, as there was nary any media build-up for this little tour they were on, certainly nothing like whenever their contemporaries the Rolling Stones go on tour. They were fresh out of Rock Operas to celebrate, as they’d already done Tommy in ‘89 and Quadrophenia in ‘97 on their previous two tours, so this tour was a bit more ambiguous. I needn't have worried, though—it turned out to be an excellent show. They opened with “I Can’t Explain” and concentrated on their oldest stuff early on, then played songs from the elusive Lifehouse project that eventually morphed into Who’s Next, including “The Relay”, “Bargain” and "Getting In Tune", none of which I'd ever heard them do live before. Another new addition to the set list was “The Kids Are Alright” which I’m guessing they hadn’t played live since the ‘60s. To make room for those songs, classics like “See Me, Feel Me” and “Love, Reign O’er Me” were dropped, but it was a fair trade-off, I suppose.
It was apparent right away that Pete Townshend was going to own this show, as he was windmilling his ass off early, and didn’t resemble at all the old man we’d been seeing in recent years. Pete did nearly all the talking between songs (Roger Daltrey usually chimes in now and then) and he seemed in very relaxed spirits throughout. Daltrey was strangely subdued most of the night, although he was in good voice. Roger was hard to hear at times, as the sound mix was poor, and even John Entwistle’s bass didn’t come through like it should. As for The Ox, he was rock solid, as always, and his vocal selection this time was his venerable “My Wife” from Who’s Next, and just as he did in St. Louis in ’97, Thunderfingers nearly brought the house down with his bass solo during “5:15”. Little did I know that this would be the last time I would see him play live. The rest of the band was comprised of native Texan John “Rabbit” Bundrick on keyboards, Pete’s brother Simon Townshend on second guitar and backing vocals, and Sir Richard Starkey’s little boy, Zak, on the drums, the latter of whom impressed me greatly once again. Looking at times like a young Keith Moon, only more controlled and less maniacal, young Zak is the perfect replacement for Moon. Too bad he wasn’t quite old enough to take over when Moon died (Zak was only 13 in 1978).
I was majorly disappointed with the crowd at this show, not only because it was nowhere near a sellout, but also because they were too laid-back. The upper deck people just sat there like a bunch of lumps, and they seemed more like a wine-and-cheese party crowd. I kept wanting to scream out, “This ain’t John Tesh, you dummies—this is THE WHO!” Since there was so much open space upstairs, I relocated from my somewhat crappy assigned seat on the corner over around to the other side, and for those of you reading out there who were at this show, I was the drunk idiot you saw in the back row up by the hockey press box windmilling along with Townshend during “Baba O’Riley”! Hell, I didn’t care what people thought—I was having a great time, although I did manage to ram my left hand into the wall during one errant swing. Thankfully, I didn’t have a whammy bar to impale my hand on like Pete did on the ’89 tour! Anyway, Chairman Townshend was easily the star of the night, and I’d never seen him play this well or certainly this enthusiastically in person before. He even gladly played “My Generation” again, which shocked me a little. The show in general was a very pleasant surprise, because just when I thought The Who was dead, they came roaring back to life on this night. Of the four times I saw them when Entwistle was alive, this concert was my favorite. Long live Rock, indeed!
SET LIST: I Can’t Explain/Substitute/Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere/The Relay/My Wife/Baba O’Riley/Bargain/ Getting In Tune/Naked Eye/Drowned (Pete solo acoustic)/Pinball Wizard/The Real Me/Behind Blue Eyes/You Better, You Bet/Who Are You?/5:15/Won’t Get Fooled Again ENCORES: The Kids Are Alright/Let’s See Action/My Generation
More TV/movie trivia for you:
—Cap’n Crunch’s first name is Horatio.
—Charlie Brown’s school was called Birchwood Elementary School.
—Bullwinkle was named after a Ford dealer in Berkeley, CA.
—Mr. Spacely’s first name on "The Jetsons” is Cosmo (Cosmo G. Spacely).
—Gopher’s first name on "The Love Boat" was Burl.
—Marge Simpson’s maiden name is Bouvier.
—Hoss Cartwright’s first name was Eric. Foghat once had a guitar player named Erik Cartwright.
—Jughead’s full name on "The Archies" was Forsythe P. Jones III.
—Krusty The Clown’s name is Herschel Krustofsky.
—The full names of "Scooby-Doo" characters: Freddy Jones, Daphne Blake, Velma Dinkley, Norville “Shaggy” Rogers. Scooby's last name apparently was "Doo".
—McLean Stevenson of "M*A*S*H" was the second cousin once removed of unsuccessful Presidential candidate Adlai Stevenson. He died the day before Roger Bowen, who played Col. Blake in the M*A*S*H movie. McLean was named after the Illinois county he was born in.
—Jean Stapleton of "All In The Family" turned down the lead role in “Murder, She Wrote” that went to Angela Lansbury.
—Carrie Snodgress was nearly cast as Adrian in Rocky but lost the role because of a salary dispute.
—Johnny Carson nearly got the role of Rob Petrie on the "Dick Van Dyke Show", to wit (to what?), it would've been called the "Johnny Carson Show", I suppose.
—The late Spencer Tracy was offered The Penguin role on “Batman” before Burgess Meredith took it.
—Bea Benaderet of "Beverly Hillbillies" and "Petticoat Junction" fame was nearly cast as Ethel Mertz on “I Love Lucy”.
—The late Madge Blake (Aunt Harriet on “Batman”) was a contender for the role of Aunt Bee on "The Andy Griffith Show", but was under contract to do "Leave It To Beaver" (as Larry’s mother) and had to turn it down. She later recommended her friend Frances Bavier for the role.
—Late actor Jack Cassidy (David and Shaun's dad) turned down the role of Ted Baxter on "The Mary Tyler Moore Show". Dumbass.
…from a Tuesday point of view.”—The Kings, “This Beat Goes On/Switchin’ To Glide”
Great lyric from another somewhat-forgotten classic song.
WHOLE LOTTA SHAKIN’ GOIN’ ON
Southern California had a pretty strong 5.4-magnitude earthquake between L.A. and San Diego today. No major damage or injuries, evidently, so all is well, in spite of a few aftershocks. I have to admit that I’m secretly hoping there will be an earthquake while I visit California during my upcoming trip in a couple weeks. Not a big one that causes damage, mind you, but one kinda like today, just so I can say I’ve experienced one. By the way, where did they get the term “temblor” to use instead of earthquake? Sounds so wimpy! To me, a temblor sounds like something you drink out of…
WOULD YOU LIKE A LITTLE CHEESE WITH YOUR WHINE?
According to ESPN today, K.C. Royals outfielder Jose Guillen—whom they shelled out eleventy-million bucks this past off-season—says he already wants to be traded. You know what I say? I say they should trade his whiny bitch ass, then! He’s done nothing but piss and moan since he arrived here, he’s alienated the fans, his manager, the bat boys, et al, and yet he still has this legion of apologists whom claim he’s merely been misunderstood and that he’s really a nice guy. Uhhh, this guy has a history of this kind of behavior, and the team knew that long before they ever signed him. Guillen claims this season has been “a living hell” because certain player moves promised by the Royals haven’t been made to make them a contender, and that’s why he wants to leave. Hey Jose, if you were hitting .340 and the rest of the team sucked, then you might have a leg to stand on, but your batting average is a very average .260, so as Eddie Murphy once said (as Richard Pryor responding to Bill Cosby), “Have a Coke and a smile and shut the fuck up!”
ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST
It was announced last week that our local doggie and horsey tracks, The Woodlands over in K.C.K., are closing soon. No big shock, as the place has been struggling for over a decade now. When it first opened, it was a fun time to go out there with a group of friends, hang out and try to win a few bucks on the dogs, but after a few years the novelty wore off, the riverboats casinos took over and The Woodlands didn’t stand a chance. Sad, but inevitable.
SPEAKING OF THE INEVITABLE…
The Summer Olympics from Beijing will soon be upon us. I love the Winter Olympics, but for some reason I have great difficulty getting fired-up for the Summer Games. The summer events just don’t quite honk my hooter like bobsledding, speed skating, hockey, luge and ski jumping do. Track and field, swimming and gymnastics don’t excite me nearly as much, and basketball in the summer just doesn’t work for me. Oh well, I’ll be on vacation during most of the Beijing games anyway.
A THREE-HOUR TOUR (A THREE-HOUR TOUR)
Roll up—for the Tragical History Tour! I’ve booked passage on a rather interesting excursion while in L.A. called Dearly Departed that I found via the slightly morbid but ever-fascinating Find A Death website. The guy that runs the site and tour has been on E! Entertainment, VH-1, and numerous other TV outlets, and is quite the expert on celebrity demises. The tour comes highly recommended, and includes stops by where the Tate-LaBianca murders happened, as well as the Menendez murders, et al, numerous stars’ homes, the “Happy Days” house (and you thought it was really in Milwaukee) and even the toilet where George Michael got busted for wanking! It’s a tad pricey at $35, but I was planning to check out some of these locations on my own anyway, and this will save me the time and trouble of looking for them.
CLASSIC MISHEARD LYRIC #91
“The Best Of My Love”—THE EAGLES (1975) “Wastin’ our time on cheap talk and wine…” I was only nine when I first heard this, and thought Don Henley was singing something about some “Cheap talkin’ whine…”
DEEP THOUGHT
Has anyone come up with another word for 'thesaurus' yet?
86) John Entwistle/Bob Harvey Band (Friday, October 8, 1998—Roadhouse Ruby’s) Ticket price: $12.00
I nearly leapt out of my chair at work the day I read in the paper that John Entwistle and his band were coming to town in the fall of ‘98. I was even more delighted when I found out the tickets for this show were only 12 bucks! Little did I know at the time that I would actually get to meet the man himself, too…
My friend Tom and I arrived at Roadhouse Ruby’s (formerly known as Guitars & Cadillacs) in suburban Olathe early enough to snag a table directly in front of the stage about halfway back, and it was a great vantage point. A local outfit called the Bob Harvey Band opened the show, and they were fairly tolerable. They did a couple C.C.R. covers that sounded pretty decent, anyway.
Long about 9:30, The Ox and his crew ambled onto the stage and opened with The Who’s “The Real Me” with guitarist Godfrey Townsend (no relation to Pete) on vocals. G. Townsend reminded me of one those stereotypical over-the-hill Rock stars portrayed in the movies, and although he was a competent guitar player, he was a barely-serviceable singer. The show was plenty loud, but the sound mix was terrible, and Entwistle’s bass was hard to pick out from the rest of the cacophony of noise. The set list was a mix of John’s Who classics and favorites from his underrated solo career, including “My Size”, “Success Story”, “Had Enough” and “Trick Of The Light”, with The Ox singing about half of them and Townsend singing the rest. A surprise inclusion was Roger Daltrey’s 1985 solo tribute to Keith Moon “Under A Raging Moon” featuring drummer Steve Luongo and “a drum solo almost as long as a Winston 100 cigarette,” as John quipped.
About midway through the show, I had the temerity to wander up by stage right in front of the speakers, and man, did I feel the power of the mighty Thunderfingers. I was a mere seven feet away from The Ox and got to watch those famous fingers work their magic up close—a major thrill for me! Meantime, at the stroke of Midnight as October 9th dawned, it was officially John’s 54th birthday, so the rest of the band led us all in singing “Happy Birthday To You” and presented the man with a pornographic b-day card. The show wrapped up a little while later with the Who classic “Young Man Blues”, and I was a bit disappointed at two glaring omissions: “The Quiet One” from Face Dances and even more surprisingly, John didn’t play “Boris The Spider”. Still, for a taste of this show, I highly recommend John’s Left For Live—Deluxe Edition CD, featuring highlights from this tour, during which Entwistle nearly went bankrupt, even though he insisted on doing it because he wanted to get out and play for the people. Dude, I would’ve gladly paid more than $12—he could’ve easily charged $20-25 a ticket and gotten it.
To be honest, overall this was a rather so-so concert, buuuuut…after the show, Tom and I hung around by the back door near the stage in hopes of meeting The Ox. The roadies eventually re-directed us outside and had us “get in queue” out by the (“Magic”?) tour bus behind the strip mall where John was already signing autographs, and eventually I found myself standing toe-to-toe with one of my idols! I wisely had the forethought to bring along my CD insert sleeve from The Who By Numbers featuring John’s famous cover drawing for him to sign. He didn’t say much while he was signing everyone’s stuff, as there was some annoying groupie chick off to the right babbling away and distracting him the whole time. I wanted to shake John’s hand, but since that’s where his pen was, I settled for patting him on the right shoulder and said, “Happy birthday, sir!” and he thanked me. Not terribly original of me, but at least I didn’t say something stupid. Fuckin-A, I met The Ox! To date, this was my greatest brush with greatness ever on earth in this hemisphere.
SET LIST: The Real Me/My Size/Sometimes/Success Story/Trick Of The Light/Had Enough/Endless Vacation/Too Late The Hero/Shakin’ All Over/905/Darker Side Of Night/Under A Raging Moon/Heaven And Hell ENCORES: My Wife/Young Man Blues
87) Kiss/Econoline Crush (Tuesday, December 16, 1998—Omaha Civic Auditorium) Ticket price: $30.00
The Psycho Circus tour was a somewhat half-hearted affair, as Kiss only played a couple dozen shows on it, and the closest they came to K.C. was the former home of the Kansas City-Omaha Kings, the Civic Auditorium, so this wound up being my first concert outside of the states of Missouri and Kansas. Since it was almost wintertime, I was reluctant to buy a ticket in advance in case there was a snowstorm that night, but fortunately the weather was bright and clear—although a tad frigid—for my three-hour drive up I-29. When I arrived at the concert at 6:00, I was surprised to find a zillion people lined up around the arena. After I parked the car, I was accosted by a ticket scalper and he said the tickets were $35 face-value, but he offered me one for 30, so I snagged it, even though I normally don’t condone patronizing these schmucks. That’s when I learned that the show was General Admission. G.A. seating for Kiss?!? Didn’t those Who and AC/DC concert tragedies teach us anything? Oh well, no harm no foul, I guess, since there were no fatalities, although the Kiss Alive Forever book mentions that Paul Stanley pleaded early on in the show with the fans in the front row to give some room to a small child whom he thought was being crushed, and they eventually handed the kid over the barricade to safety, but I don’t recall that incident. As it turned out, I managed to literally have a whole row myself near the top of the building, as I found a nice little one-seater that suited me fine.
I do recall that three lines into Kiss’ opening number, “Psycho Circus”, Stanley’s microphone crapped out on him and he had to borrow Gene’s for a while. Their new replica Destroyer costumes looked great, and the new stage was kinda cool, especially Peter Criss’ new drum riser that when lifted skyward during his solo had nothing but air below it, as it was suspended from above by chains. And this time we had not one, but two light-up Kiss logos adorning the stage. The other new wrinkle for this tour was the 3-D effects on the video screens, which when viewed through the cheesy 3-D glasses that were given away at the doors, made the band’s guitars, drum sticks, tongues, etc., appear to be coming right at you (to varying degrees of success).
The album Psycho Circus was the first (and most likely the only) one featuring the entire original lineup on it since the ‘70s, at least by outward appearances. Turns out that Criss only played on the track he sang on, as was the case with Ace Frehley, and the rest of the album was Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley and session musicians. Not surprisingly, Kiss only performed three songs from it—the title track, Ace’s “Into The Void” (including his extended solo) and Simmons’ “Within”, the latter of which sounded like crap live because Gene couldn’t hack recreating his original high-end vocals. During Ace’s solo, I could see Gene through my binoculars next to the stairway below stage right touching up his make-up before returning to the stage. I also spotted the cup where he drinks his fake blood from too. The rest of the show was vintage Kiss and I could even feel the heat from the pyro during “100,000 Years” from all the way up top. Ace also added a new little whirly-gig firework gizmo on the head stock of his light-up guitar that shot sparks during his “Rock And Roll All Nite” solo.
Since I had to piss near the end of the show, I decided to take in the encores from floor level in the back while Peter sang “Beth”—I wish they’d actually play this one on guitar instead of always having Peter singing along to the backing track. “Detroit Rock City” followed, as did “Black Diamond” and the confetti storm thereof. While not quite as good as the Kiss shows I saw on the 1996-97 Reunion Tour, this was still well worth the little road trip to Omaha. I was looking forward to catching a couple more shows on the Psycho Circus tour, but there weren’t any more around these parts after this one.
As usual, Kiss brought along a good support act, and Econoline Crush put on a very energetic opening set. They were kind of a cross between Alice In Chains and The Cult, and I was impressed enough with them that I bought their debut CD a little while after that. Unlike most of the the young bands that were hot at that time, EC actually appeared to be enjoying themselves while playing on-stage. Too bad the band never went anywhere after that…
SET LIST: Psycho Circus/Shout It Out Loud/Deuce/Do You Love Me/Firehouse/Shock Me/Let Me Go, Rock ‘N’ Roll/Calling Dr. Love/Into The Void/King Of The Night Time World/God Of Thunder/Within/Peter Criss drum solo/Cold Gin/Love Gun/100,000 Years/Rock And Roll All Nite ENCORES: Beth/Detroit Rock City/Black Diamond
88) Ted Nugent/Night Ranger/Quiet Riot/Slaughter (Friday, July 23, 1999—Sandstone Amphitheater) Ticket price: Free
We weren’t even planning to attend this concert, but a co-worker of mine managed to win two free tickets earlier in the week via some contest at a nearby bar, and he was good enough to offer them to me since he really wasn’t into Nugent or any of the other bands. And since you can’t beat free, and since it was Tom’s birthday too, we went.
Tom and I arrived just as Slaughter was finishing their encore “Up All Night”. I don’t think we missed much anyway. We were planning to rent a couple chairs for the lawn when one of the ushers advised us that since the show was nowhere near sold-out, we could sit in the back section of seats if we wanted, so we snagged a couple good ones right smack in the center. Quiet Riot came out a little while later and played a brief, but spirited set. I so wanted to walk up to singer Kevin DuBrow and (in my best Chandler Bing voice) say, “Could your wig BE any more obvious?” (see pic). QR only played five songs, but it was a good and tight set, and the crowd seemed to enjoy them. Alas, as usual at Sandstone, the sound was abysmal—way too much bass and drums—and it would not get any better the rest of the night.
SET LIST: Sign Of The Times/Slick Black Cadillac/Mama Weer All Crazee Now/Cum On Feel The Noize/Metal Health
During the set change, while Tom was making a beer run, a fight broke out right in front of where we were sitting between two stupid drunk fucks who just had to be all macho for our entertainment. In fact, we were surrounded by all sorts of morons, and I swear, Tom and I were the only two people in the place without tattoos! Night Ranger came on a bit later and played a fairly enthusiastic set. I was never a big fan of theirs back in the ‘80s, but they acquitted themselves quite well live, and like Quiet Riot, the crowd seemed to dig them.
SET LIST: Touch Of Madness/Rumors In The Air/Sing Me Away/Four In The Morning (I Can’t Take Any More)/Sentimental Street/When You Close Your Eyes/Coming Of Age/Don’t Tell Me You Love Me ENCORES: Sister Christian/Rock In America
It had been 20 years and one month (almost to the day) when my personal concert odyssey began with Ted Nugent at Arrowhead Stadium in 1979, and almost 17 years since the last time I’d seen him in concert and a lot had changed. Ted apparently decided he no longer needed a second guitarist/vocalist, choosing to do all the singing himself (bad idea). Nugent was now down to a three-piece band, which included a familiar face, one Tommy Aldridge (formerly of Black Oak Arkansas, Pat Travers, Ozzy Osbourne and Whitesnake) on the drums, as well as a bass player I didn’t recognize. Also unlike the Nugent of yore, this show wasn’t very loud. I could remember a time when the Nuge was determined to make one’s ears bleed at his concerts, but this almost made the New Christy Minstrels sound like Motorhead! Opening with a very flat version of “Yank Me, Crank Me” and wearing a headset microphone, Terrible Ted just wandered aimlessly around the stage and played, and the usually frenetic “Wang Dang Sweet Poontang” was rendered utterly lifeless on this night. The set did include a couple surprises, like “Snakeskin Cowboys” and his ode to thrill-seeking hunters, “Fred Bear”, which Ted augmented with a cute little campfire at center stage—never mind that it was already 95 degrees out! I’m surprised he also didn’t lead us all in a few choruses of “Kumbaya” (sp?).
Ted’s usually-humorous macho-bravado between-song patter was strangely subdued too, and thanks to the murky sound, I couldn’t make out what he was saying half the time, anyway. Sadly, the beginning of the end of Ted’s tenure as one of my idols took place when he introduced “Kiss My Ass” by going off on one of his now-infamous bigoted “Get the fuck out of America if you can’t speak English” rants. Don’t get me wrong—I love the song “Kiss My Ass”, and I merely replace the liberals in Ted’s little roll call at the end with the likes of Bill O’Reilly, Ann Coulter, et al—but I do not attend Rock ‘N’ Roll concerts to listen to political diatribes. Unfortunately, Nugent is totally unrepentant about this, and in fact, has gotten even more militant as time has passed. The Motor City Madman was no longer talking to me through his guitar, but from out of his ass.
“Cat Scratch Fever” ended the set, with Ted pulling off his usual shtick of shooting a flaming arrow at a defenseless (decoy) guitar from 15 paces—a shot that even I could make. He launched into “Great White Buffalo” for the encore, but Tom and I had seen enough and headed up the hill to leave, and naturally as we did, the sound suddenly got better. I never dreamed I’d see the day when I’d ever leave a Ted Nugent concert before it was over, but the times had changed. If I’d paid to see this concert, I’d have been pissed, and even for free, it was just barely okay, at best. Even after 20 some-odd years, Kiss was still able to kick my ass in concert. Ted Nugent failed miserably at it. How the mighty had fallen…
SET LIST: Yank Me, Crank Me/Free-For-All/Dog Eat Dog/Snakeskin Cowboys/Kiss My Ass/Paralyzed/Wang Dang Sweet Poontang/Fred Bear/Stranglehold/Cat Scratch Fever ENCORE: Great White Buffalo
89) Joe Walsh (Saturday, July 24, 1999—Kauffman Stadium) Ticket price: Free
Royals/Kauffman Stadium hosted several big-time mega-concerts back in the ‘70s like Nugent, Chicago, Santana, Steve Miller Band, Peter Frampton, et al, but I never got to see any shows there, as by the time I became a concert-goer, all the big shows were staged across the parking lot at Arrowhead, so this was a first for me. So was sitting through a crappy baseball game first to see a concert, as the Royals were pummeled by the Oakland A’s 12-2 prior to the free post-game concert by Joe Walsh. I attended the show with a female friend who drove up with her new husband from Joe’s hometown of Wichita, and it was a bit of an awkward evening as neither of them were very talkative—jeez, I hate being the third wheel!!
It only took about 30 minutes following the game for the roadies to set up the makeshift stage, and the sound quality—although somewhat lacking—was still far superior to what Tom and I heard the night before. Ever the silly one, Joe came on stage and immediately donned one of those fluorescent orange windbreakers the highway workers wear, and claimed “I’m cold!” even though it was hotter than blazes out, and he left the thing on all night! Although it was a bit odd having the stadium lights on throughout the show, Joe made the best of it and turned in a surprisingly decent set of hits, including his old James Gang classics “Funk #49” and “Walk Away”, along with more recent stuff like “The Confessor” and “Ordinary Average Guy”. He saved his biggies for last of course, ending the show with “Life’s Been Good” followed by “Rocky Mountain Way” for the encore. One song I was shocked he didn’t do was “All Night Long” (from Urban Cowboy), but I never much liked that one anyway. One I knew he wouldn’t do, but secretly hoped for was “I.L.B.T.’s” (as in “I Like Big Tits”) from 1983. Can’t have everything, I guess. All things considered, this wasn’t a bad little show, and an improvement over the one I saw the night before. As Joe often says, “How ya DOIN’?”
90) Chicago/The Doobie Brothers (Sunday, August 8, 1999—Sandstone Amphitheater) Ticket price: Free
Damn, three free concerts in a row! This time it was yours truly who won the freebies on the radio on 101-The Fox for knowing what year Supertramp's Famous Last Words... came out (1982). This marked the second time I’d seen Chicago in concert without paying a dime to do so. These weren’t even lawn tickets for free—these were actual seats, and they were surprisingly good, too.
Since this was a co-headlining tour, we didn’t know until showtime who would open up, and it turned out to be the Brothers Doobie who played first. They opened with a song I wasn’t familiar with, then kicked it into gear with “Rockin’ Down The Highway”. To my surprise, there was no Michael McDonald to be found on stage, and guitarist Pat Simmons later explained that “he's sick—of us!” I’m not so sure he was kidding, either. Just as well, because apart from “Takin’ It To The Streets” (which Simmons sang in McDonald’s place) and “It Keeps You Runnin’”, I never much cared for the wimpy jazz/fusion-esque Michael McDonald-era Doobies, and much preferred the old-school real Rock ‘N’ Roll Tom Johnston-era Doobies, which is what we got on this night. Johnston looked healthy, sang enthusiastically and sounded great. The rest of the band included guitarist John McFee, drummers Keith Knudsen and Michael Hossack, a lanky bassist named Skylark, and a sax player named Mike Russo who emerged every so often from the shadows. Even more surprising, the sound was pretty good, especially once the band got cooking. They covered their big hits, as expected, plus they added a new song called “Can’t Stand To Lose” which wasn’t half-bad. “China Grove” and “Listen To The Music” were the encores, during which a couple of the Chicago guys joined the Doobs on stage and sang along. Overall, a very nice 90-minute set.
SET LIST: Don’t Believe A Word/Rockin’ Down The Highway/Dangerous/Jesus Is Just Alright/Slat Key Soquel Rag/Can’t Stand To Lose/Take Me In Your Arms (Rock Me)/The Doctor/Takin’ It To The Streets/Little Bitty Pretty One/Black Water/Long Train Runnin’ ENCORES: China Grove/Listen To The Music
Chicago opened with a couple tunes they didn’t play when I saw them in ’88, namely “Make Me Smile”, “Colour My World” and "Old Days". They started off a little flat, but righted the ship eventually by about the fourth song. They made my night by playing two other omissions from ’88, “(I’ve Been) Searchin’ So Long” and "Feelin' Stronger Every Day", both sung by Jason Scheff, who had long ago replaced Peter Cetera, and is almost a dead-ringer for him, vocally. The band was still tight, with Robert Lamm on one keyboard, Bill Champlin on another, guitarist Keith Howland and drummer Tris Imboden. But it was the horn section that stole the show, as usual. Trombonist James Pankow was especially animated, using his instrument as a sort of extension of his manhood, you might say, while saxophonist Walt Parazaider and trumpeter Lee Loughnane traded solos throughout the show, and all three sounded great.
After running through most of their big hits, Chicago threw in a zinger. “We’ve been in a blast furnace all summer, so just use your imagination here,” Pankow announced, before they launched into a riotous rendition of “Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow”, complete with light-up snowman, fake snow falling from above the stage, and a corpulent roadie posing as an elf. Come to find out later that Chicago had a Christmas CD due out soon, hence the yuletide frivolity. While introducing the band members, Robert Lamm remarked how nice the weather was here for a change, and added, “I remember doing the backstroke here last year,” during the usual heavy rains Chicago brings to Kansas City whenever they play outdoors. They wrapped the show up with rousing version of “25 Or 6 To 4”, and for once, it didn’t rain a drop during an outdoor Chicago concert in Kansas City! An outstanding concert all the way around, too.
SET LIST: Make Me Smile/Colour My World/Make Me Smile (Reprise)/(I’ve Been) Searchin’ So Long/Free/Hard Habit To Break/Call On Me/Old Days/Look Away/Feelin’ Stronger Every Day/Saturday In The Park/Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow/Just You ‘N’ Me/ Beginnings/Hard To Say I’m Sorry/Get Away/Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?/I’m A Man ENCORES: In The Mood/25 Or 6 To 4
SLOBO ILIJEVSKI, 1949-2008
Was saddened to learn of the death last week of former St. Louis Steamers/Storm/Ambush goalkeeper Slobo Ilijevski at age 58. He was playing in an over-55 soccer tournament in Seattle and suffered a torn aorta apparently while diving to stop a shot, and died later in the hospital of heart failure. Back in the ‘80s, indoor soccer was a major vice for me, and whenever my beloved MISL Kansas City Comets played the dreaded Team Steam from St. Louie, it was about as intense a rivalry as you’ll ever find, especially from about 1982 through ‘86. To us, Comets-Steamers made Ohio St.-Michigan, Yankees-Red Sox or Chiefs-Raiders look like pillow fights by comparison. Although we always respected Slobo and his evil teammates Don Ebert, Steve Pecher, Carl Rose, Jeff Cacciatore, Tony Glavin, Redmond Lane, Tony Bellinger, Ricky Davis, et al, my friend Tom and I were known to often hurl invective at Slobo and his minions, especially during the playoffs. Ebert and Rose were the two I hated the most, but Slobo was right up there with them. From what I hear, he apparently was really a very nice man off the field, but we hated his guts whenever he was on the pitch. I’ll never forget the sheer elation we felt the night the Comets finally overcame those bastard Steamers on April 21, 1985 when midfielder Tasso Koutsoukos snuck one past Slobo to win 4-3 in OT to clinch the team’s first playoff series victory ever. Winning the championship would’ve been anti-climactic that year…
Ironically, Ilijevski was one of the few St. Louis players who didn’t eventually wind up playing for the Comets (like Pecher, Glavin and others later did), as by the late ‘80s, the two team rosters were almost interchangeable. Known as the "ageless wonder", Slobo was sort of the Dominik Hasek of indoor soccer, as he played well into his 40’s and seemingly got better the more he aged. He was the heart and soul of St. Louis soccer even after his playing days ended, remaining very active in the futbol community there, playing a similar role to what Gino Schiraldi and Enzo DiPede do here in Kansas City. Rest in peace, Slobo—you were a great warrior and one of my favorite sports villains/enemies…
EXPLANATION PLEASE…
Why is it when the media and/or the military report war casualties, the individual soldiers are always referred to as "troops"? Isn’t a troop a group of people, as in Boy Scout troop? I never have understood that…
HOPE I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE…
…who does this. Have you ever bought Hamburger Helper at the store and forgotten to buy the meat?!? I’ve done this a couple times now, even though the key component of Hamburger Helper is indeed hamburger!
HOLY YAWN, BATMAN!
I must be the only one who is very nonplussed about the new Batman flick that just came out. I’ve had trouble getting into the big-screen Caped Crusader movies because they’re nothing like what I was raised on. Sorry folks, but there’s only one true Batmobile, and the only Batman that’s officially recognized in my house is the mayor of Quahog himself, the great Adam West. The least they could do in these new Batman flicks is throw in a few Biffs and Zowies now and then…
REAL MEN OF GENIUS
The Budweiser folks need to salute whoever it is that does the programming schedule for TV Land. In their infinite wisdom, they decided to air Apollo 13 on Friday night, Saturday night and Sunday night this past weekend. Can’t you just see these guys brainstorming at their committee meeting? "What a stroke of ingenuity—let’s air the same movie three nights in a row!! And better yet, let’s butcher it up with commercial breaks every five minutes and fill them with promos for this vapid new reality show we’re hyping featuring that big dumb oaf George Foreman—that’ll surely keep the viewers glued to the tube…"
Don’t get me wrong, Apollo 13 is a dandy film and a favorite of mine, but jeez Louise—can’t they at least have a little variety in their program schedule? TBS does this same crap—airing the same flick on back-to-back nights, and instead of promos, they insert that inane "Dinner & A Movie" palaver with these supercilious twits prattling on about nothing. Is it any wonder that cable TV ratings are plummeting faster than Mel Gibson’s career?
CLASSIC MISHEARD LYRIC #90
"Destroyer"—THE KINKS (1981) "Feeling guilty, feeling scared—hidden cameras everywhere…" Is it just me, or doesn’t it sound like Ray Davies sings "hidden candles everywhere"?
THIS ONE’S JUST TOO EASY!
John "Cougar" Mellencamp says he now considers himself an "ex-Rock Star". I musta missed that memo somewhere along the way—I was unaware that he ever was one... (sorry, Dr. S!)
TAKES ONE TO KNOW ONE?
I chuckled when I read that singer Amy Winehouse’s husband was sentenced to over two years in the pokey for beating up a pub landlord in England while intoxicated. Imagine that—he’s every bit as fucked-up as she is! Okay, explain to me again why I should be impressed by this skank? I’ve listened to Winehouse a few times and have been majorly underwhelmed by her so-called "brilliance". I’d almost rather listen to "ex-Rock Star" Mellencamp…
WHO DAT?
Interesting commentary from The Who’s Roger Daltrey this week on the state of the music biz, and more specifically the listening habits of today’s music collectors. Roger sez: "They've destroyed the form, as soon's it went digital. The CD was a confidence trick. It wasn't just music that people used to buy, it was a total art form. ... I think that's what people like. They like it personal. They like vinyl because if you scratch vinyl, it'll be scratched, but it'll be your scratch. It will only be on your record. Now for people, (music) is just not a big part of their lives. It's like background noise. There's just so much else going on, isn't there?"
Not so sure I agree with him totally. I may be one of the few dominoes left standing, and music is as big as it ever was in my life. Disregarding my current iPod habits, I still generally listen to my CDs as entire units from start-to-finish without skipping around on tracks, just as I would’ve on vinyl. True, as I myself have lamented on the blog, the compact disc killed the album cover/sleeves as an art form, but I don’t really miss hearing the music with all the snap, crackle and pop of vinyl records.
As for the ‘Orrible ‘Oo, their performance on VH-1’s "Rock Honors" presentation last week weren’t too shabby, and it never ceases to amaze me that Pete and Roger call still bring it at their advanced ages. I really think young master Zac Starkey on the drums has helped energize them a bit over the last ten years or so since he’s played for them. And I know I’m biased when it comes to the bass position in this band, but I still cringed watching Pino Palladino play so timidly on the solo bass runs during "My Generation". It almost looked like he was scared to touch his own bass strings. I know I shouldn’t pick on Palladino, because he is indeed a fine bassist—he stood out on Pete Townshend’s "Face The Face" in 1985, as well as on Elton John’s "Simple Life" from The One in 1992—but Pino, buddy, do The Ox proud—play that song like you got a pair!!
Meanwhile, it seems that Pete and Roger have decided to tour America again this fall, but they’re already squabbling over what songs to play, as Townshend wants to do more of his new stuff while Daltrey wants to stick with the classics. Given the flaccid quality of Pete’s more recent work, I tend to side with Rog on this one.
81) George Thorogood & The Destroyers/Wide Mouth Mason (Saturday, August 16, 1997—Beaumont Club) Ticket price: $18.50
The Beaumont Club in Kansas City’s Westport drinking district is easily the worst venue I’ve ever attended a big-time concert at. It doubles as a Country & Western bar/nightclub, and serves neither purpose very well. It’s your basic dive, the layout of the place is poor for concerts and I swear, my front porch (see above left) is bigger than the Beaumont’s stage! My friend Tom and I were forced to stand at the top of the stairway which led to an auxiliary bar just to get a good vantage point.
The opening act, a trio named Wide Mouth Mason, started early and were quite good. They played about 45 minutes’ worth of alterna-Rock and blues, and the guitarist and drummer were standouts, as I recall. After a very brief set change, the strains of Barry McGuire’s “Eve of Destruction” played over the P.A., signaling that Lonesome George and the boys were about to begin, as they bounded onto the stage and opened with “Long Gone”. It wasn’t long before some dillweed decided to stand right in front of me and Tom, blocking our view, in spite of our attempts to show the fucker that we were there first. He and his underage girlfriends eventually moved elsewhere, but not before I nearly threw my hip and back out while trying to get comfortable along the stairway railing.
Anyway, Thorogood and Co. rocked the house, playing pretty much the same set as they did in ’95, only with some new tunes added from their latest CD, Rockin’ My Life Away. The longer they played, the tighter they got, and the band was like a runaway freight train by show’s end. Even though they were limited by Beaumont’s microscopic stage, George and crew managed to put on a fine show. About the only disappointment was the total lack of Chuck Berry songs on the set list. Oh well, still a dandy show in spite of it being such a crappy venue.
SET LIST: Long Gone/Who Do You Love?/Get Back Into Rockin'/Night Time/I Drink Alone/One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer/If You Don't Start Drinkin' (I'm Gonna Leave)/I'll Have The Usual/The Sky Is Crying/Get A Haircut/Howlin' For My Baby/Bad To The Bone/Gear Jammer/Move It On Over/What A Price/You Talk Too Much ENCORE: Rockin' My Life Away
82) The Rainmakers/Arthur Dodge (Friday, September 19, 1997—Liberty Hall, Lawrence, KS) Ticket price: $10.00
Kansas City’s Rainmakers were a band that I really came to love long after their initial break-up in the early ‘90s. For more on the band, here’s my original blog tribute to them. Once I finally embraced their music in the mid-‘90s, I was really fired up to finally see them live in concert, as they had a reputation as a top-flight live act. They were heavily-promoted by Classic Rock station KY-102 during the band’s heyday from 1986-89, and their first three albums were pretty darn good stuff. Strange irony that this concert took place the night after “the day the music died”, so to speak, as KY-102 was killed the day before by the soulless corporate radio suits and replaced by an equally-soulless Alternative Rock format.
Liberty Hall is an old movie theater on the famed Massachusetts St. strip in Lawrence near K.U. that was converted into an 800-seat (or so) concert hall, and it turned out to be a nifty place to see a show. Our view was outstanding from the balcony, and the sound was plenty loud during the Rainmakers’ set. The band had reformed a couple times in the ‘90s, and were touring in support of their new CD Skin with new bassist Michael Bliss replacing the departed Rich Ruth. Opening with their biggest hit, “Let My People Go-Go”, the band was surprisingly animated on stage, particularly singer and leader Bob Walkenhorst. I was surprised that they didn’t lean all that much on the new record, choosing instead to play nearly all of their first album and most of the second one, 1987’s Tornado. In rolling through their old favorites, they did some altered arrangements on a few of them, like “Doomsville” and “Long Gone Long” from the first album, freshening them up with Steve Phillips’ excellent slide guitar work. Drummer Pat Tomek was a solid timekeeper as well, and the band was very tight, as expected.
The song “Hoo-Dee-Hoo” from the Rainmakers’ third album The Good News And The Bad News was a highlight, as was “Reckoning Day” from that album, and the band closed the show with “Rockin’ At The T-Dance” following a couple encores and over two hours’ worth of music. The only glaring omissions from the set list were “Tornado Of Love” and “Small Circles” from Tornado, and overall this was an outstanding concert. The Rainmakers certainly came as advertised—a mighty fine live band.
The opening act was a band called Arthur Dodge, and they played your basic Alternative Rock clap-trap, and weren’t terribly good at it. It didn’t help that the sound mix was murky and the vocals were drowned out most of the time. My friend Phil said he recognized the lead singer as a guy he’d played drums with in a band many years before. Small world…
SET LIST: Let My People Go-Go/Different Rub/Wages Of Sin/Skin/Long Gone Long/Shiny Shiny/Information/No Romance/Did You See The Lightning/ Snakedance/Remember Me By/Window/Reddleman Coming/Hoo-Dee-Hoo/Hunger Moon/Lakeview Man/Reckoning Day/Million Miles Away/Eclipse Has Begun/Nobody Knows/ Downstream/I Talk With My Hands ENCORES: Good Sons & Daughters/Drinkin' On The Job/Daydream Believer/Doomsville/Rockin’ At The T-Dance
83) The Rainmakers/Jeff Black (Saturday, November 29, 1997—Beaumont Club) Ticket price: $12.00
As the Lynyrd Skynyrd lyric goes, “I’ve tried everything in my life—the things I like, I try ‘em twice…” and so it goes with The Rainmakers, as they played K.C. proper for the first time in ages just a couple months after their highly successful Lawrence gig. Too bad it had to be at such a shitty venue. At least we were able to actually sit in seats for this one, although people kept using the space in front of us as an aisle half the time—beaver biscuits!!
Tom and I were graced by yet another opening act performance by singer Jeff Black, whom we’d previously seen open for John Hiatt a couple years before. Sad to report that Jeff hadn’t improved much from that first time, where he reminded me of a street singer playing for tips. Picture the late Chris Farley with an acoustic guitar, and you get the idea. His set was mercifully short, too.
Opening this time with "To The Hum", followed by “Let My People Go-Go”, the Rainmakers came on right at 8:00 and had the joint jumpin’ from the get-go (Go-Go?). They made a few changes to the set list, adding “Another Guitar” from 1994’s Flirtin’ With The Universe, as well as a couple more songs from the new Skin album. The band seemed to enjoy themselves, and Bob Walkenhorst was quite animated on stage once again, which seems to be his nature. It was a very good show, indeed, but I enjoyed the Lawrence show more, which can be directly attributed to the venue and not the band. When they played “Downstream”, the Rainmakers nearly brought the house down. They returned for an encore featuring “Drinkin’ On The Job”, but were unable to finish with “Rockin’ At The T-Dance” because they ran long and had to quit so the club could let the regular redneck shit-stomper crowd in at 10:30. To date, I haven’t set foot in the place since, either—the Beaumont Club sucks!
SET LIST: To The Hum/Let My People Go-Go/Good Sons And Daughters/Different Rub/Wages Of Sin/Long Gone Long/ Skin/Shiny Shiny/Information/No Romance/Did You See the Lightning/ Snakedance/Remember Me By/Wilder Side/Reddleman Coming/Spend It On Love/Reckoning Day/Hunger Moon/Hoo-Dee-Hoo/Another Guitar/ Million Miles Away/Eclipse Has Begun/Nobody Knows/Downstream/I Talk With My Hands ENCORES: Doomsville/Drinkin' On The Job/Proud Mary
84) The Rainmakers (Saturday, April 16, 1998—Mill Creek Park) Ticket price: Free
I just couldn’t get enough of these guys during 1997-98, and this one was a freebie. It was also the one and only time I’ve attended a concert while on the clock at my workplace!
At the time, I was working at St. Luke’s Hospital near the famed Country Club Plaza and was picking up some extra hours on the weekends reorganizing one of our file rooms in X-Ray. The annual AIDS Walk event was being held right across the street in Mill Creek Park, with The Rainmakers headlining the post-walk concert. Since I had no adult supervision (i.e., no managers were around), I snuck down the hill and enjoyed the proceedings for a couple hours, all the while making time-and-a-half! Ain’t I a stinker?
A gay dance troupe performed on the stage when I arrived, and I spotted Rainmakers drummer Pat Tomek setting up his kit backstage. In the crowd, I also spotted former KY-102 (and current 101-The Fox) DJ Skid Roadie roaming around the grounds. The show was emceed by local gay legend Ron Megee, who is best-known as a female impersonator in numerous plays and such. I couldn’t help but notice the similarity in his voice and that of Big Gay Al on TV’s “South Park”! Eventually Bob Walkenhorst of the Rainmakers joined Megee on stage to help auction off some valuables for the charity, including an original copy of the pre-Rainmakers album Balls by Steve, Bob & Rich, along with some guitars and such.
The rest of the band joined Walkenhorst on stage eventually and they got down to business and played about an hour and 15 minutes. They sounded pretty good, despite some equipment problems. “Small Circles” returned to the set list, and the addition of “Width Of A Line” from Flirtin’ with The Universe was a nice touch. The band was later joined on stage by members of another local favorite, Fool’s Face, and they played a spirited version of CCR’s “Proud Mary” to wrap things up. While not nearly as good a show as the prior two, you just can’t beat free, so I got my money’s worth. Hell, I was getting paid to watch this one, so who am I to bitch?!?
SET LIST: Good Sons And Daughters/Let My People Go-Go/Different Rub/Wages Of Sin/ Small Circles/Width Of A Line/30 Days/Information/Skin/Long Gone Long/Nobody Knows/Downstream ENCORE: Proud Mary
85) Stevie Nicks/Boz Scaggs (Saturday, July 11, 1998—Sandstone Amphitheater) Ticket price: $21.50
My friend Tom is a huge Stevie Nicks fan, and since he had a birthday coming up in a couple weeks, I decided to treat him to a ticket to this show, even though I was more of a casual fan of hers at the time. Over the years, her music has grown on me, and this turned out to be a fairly decent concert, too.
Tom and I arrived early enough to snag a pretty good spot in the lawn right down the center about a third of the way up. Unfortunately, just prior to Boz Scaggs hitting the stage, this drunk, loud-mouthed bozo and his girlfriend decided to plunk down just to my right, despite it being a fairly small space between us. This goomer was loud and rude most of the night, and he wondered aloud who this “Bob” Scaggs guy was. A few minutes after that, a gaggle of dweeby Gen X-ers overtook a small plot of land just in front of us. Most of them were drunk off their asses before the show even started, and none of them were even alive when “Lido Shuffle” or Rumours came out, which made me wonder what the bajeezus they were doing there in the first place. The crowd (much larger than I anticipated) was a rowdier bunch than what I was expecting, filled with drunk rednecks more befitting of a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert, sprinkled with lots of Stevie Nicks wanna-bes.
Bob—er, Boz Scaggs finally hit the stage and played a marginally interesting set of mostly jazz-tinged stuff, saving “Lido” and “Lowdown” for the end. He reminded me a bit of John Hiatt, only without the edge or sense of humor.
A brief set change ensued while I guzzled my third over-priced beer, and Stevie Nicks made her entrance. She looked pretty good for a woman of 50-something, and her band wasn’t too shabby, either. It didn’t take her long to get to the good stuff with “Dreams” second on the set list, followed by “Enchanted”. The sound mix sucked, as it always does at Sandstone, and Stevie’s vocals were barely audible at times. She couldn’t hit those high notes anymore, but still managed to sing well when we were able to hear her. Highlights of the show were definitely the Fleetwood tunes, as well as “Stand Back” and “Edge of Seventeen”, which closed the show. For an encore, she did Tom Petty’s “I Need To Know” (a favorite TP song of mine), and her version of it almost sounded better than his. Speaking of Petty, I was surprised Stevie didn’t do “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around”, as well as “Leather And Lace” and “Gypsy”, but it was a decent hour-and-45-minute set—she neither blew me away or disappointed me, and Tom seemed pleased, so all was well.
A little unfinished business here, as I forgot to include this in my review of the John Entwistle concert at which I got the man's otto-graph on my Who By Numbers CD insert. This is not a forgery—the Ox really did sign it. Honest! He really did...
