WHY GUNS N’ ROSES STILL MATTER

 

So I haven’t posted on my blog since the Sebastian Bach show back in May, mostly because I’ve been uninspired. 

Wait.  Not true. 

I’ve been inspired, but just didn’t feel like I could write a blog about it.  How do you even attempt to review concerts like The Cure or Guns N’ Roses?  It’s like, why bother?  Both of these bands have been around for 30+ years, have sold out stadiums and arenas across the world, and have legions of devoted fans.  So people are going regardless, they’re gonna have a great time, and they don’t need me writing some self-indulgent review telling them what they already know (or don't want to hear).  Plus, there a ton of people on the interwebs feeling like they have to weigh in on these big shows, anyway – as if they have something new to say.

Newsflash: (with a few exceptions) ….. YA DON’T.

So I’ve been in a lull wondering what I could possibly write about until my next review-worthy show in September (I’m lookin’ at you, LA Guns!).  And then about two weeks ago, I saw this article.

http://www.houstonpress.com/music/are-guns-n-roses-still-relevant-8609833

 
The title grabbed me because I thought it was interesting.  It wasn’t just another review.  In fact, it was written and published by the Houston Press before Guns N’ Roses even rolled into town on August 5^th.  What “great minds”, I wondered, were going to weigh in on this burning question?

Well, it turns out I’d never heard of any of the minds – which in itself doesn’t mean anything.  I’m not entrenched in the music critic scene by any means.  But the more I read, the more I realized I was rolling my eyes.  And by the end, I was straight up pissed.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I’ve had my issues with this reunion from the beginning.  Mostly for the following reasons:

1.   I have an extreme admiration for obsession with Izzy Stradlin, and he made it clear from the beginning that he would have no involvement with the reunion whatsoever.  Lots of stories out there about why, and I have my opinions about which ones are right, but that isn’t what this is about.  For purposes of this post, we’ll just chalk it up the fact that Izzy thinks he’s cooler than everybody else – and he’s kinda right.  So.  Moving on.
 

2.   Axl Rose and I have a love/hate relationship.  (This exists purely in my mind – let me be clear that the man has no earthly idea who I am).  I love Axl Rose because he was the voice that sang all the songs on an album that I can say, without hesitation, truly did save rock n roll.  And for that, I am eternally grateful.  I hate Axl Rose because his ego has been so inflated at times, and some of his songs so self-indulgent, that I just wanna tell him to stop already.  But in the end, no matter how many times we fight (again, solely in my mind), I always fall back in love with him.  It’s inevitable.

3.   Two words:  Steven Adler.  Now, I have no idea if the guy can play any of the songs on the Use Your Illusion albums or Chinese Democracy.  Maybe, maybe not.  But I know for a fact that he can play every damn song on Appetite for Destruction, and he should have been given the chance to do so.  I kept thinking, “why not keep Ferrer in for the other songs and let Popcorn play AFD?”  But they didn’t.  And I don’t know why.

 

4.   They ditched their second keyboard player, only to turn around and replace him.  Adding one keyboard player in 1990 was questionable to me.  Two people on the keys….completely unnecessary. From what I’ve read about Melissa Reese, she is EXTREMELY talented, and we all know she’s probably just about the most precious thing we’ve ever seen. But I have NO idea why she was added to the group.  I can’t think of one plausible explanation.  Not one.   

All of that being said, I wasn’t going to sit out and protest the show.  Because I was going to get to see three of the guys who made one of the rawest, passionate, and overall fucking AMAZING albums of all time together again.  Turns out I actually got to see four, since Adler made an appearance at the Nashville show.  I would’ve have kicked myself in the ass for the rest of my life had I not gone.  And apparently a lot of people felt that way because the stadium was FULL.  Full-on full. 

So, back to the article.  I get what some of the writers are saying…to some degree, at least.  And some make valid points.  For example:

Do I think that any of the original members are back together because they felt some cosmic creative force calling on them? 

I do not.

Does that make it a little difficult to get behind them?

Maybe.

Do I think they’re relevant as a new-music-making entity in today’s environment?

Ehhhh…I say this with some hesitation, but probably not.  Then again, who knows what they’ll do.

Do I think some of the opening acts were questionable?

Ummmmmm…beyond questionable.

Do I think they should make a new album?

Not without Izzy.

But to say that they are simply a “80s-90s nostalgia act that’s guaranteed to sell tickets”...

NO.

Seriously.

So wrong…on so many levels.

First off, you don’t call Guns N’ Roses a nostalgia act.  You just don’t.  I mean, did seeing them invoke feelings of nostalgia for me?  Yes.  Absolutely.  I was 100% the wide-eyed preteen staring at Axl in his leather pants doing his serpentine dance on the MTV, and listening to Appetite for Destruction on repeat in the morning while I sprayed the sides of my hair out into perfect, albeit extremely crunchy, wings. 

But does that make them nothing but a “nostalgic act”?  No.  I swear to you, I didn’t know half of what they were saying in those songs back then.  I mean, I heard the words, but I either heard them incorrectly or had little clue as to what they were actually singing about.  Now, at the ripe old age of … ok, fine – 40 … I listen to the songs and am sometimes just blown away at the sheer ability of those guys to capture such anger, frustration, truth, love, lust – you name the emotion, you got it - in both their lyrics and their music.  They mean something completely different to me now.  And I gotta say…that’s pretty cool.

Secondly, though I suppose one can argue that they have “no claim on current American music culture”, I would do so for an entirely different reason than the commentator.  HOW ABOUT IT’S BECAUSE CURRENT AMERICAN MUSIC CULTURE SUCKS?!  Oh sure, there are some catchy songs these days.  I’m not gonna pretend I’ve never caught myself singing along to T-Swizzle with my kid in the car.  But the majority of today’s music is boring, processed, over the top pop.  Let’s put it this way:  I would wager to say that Selena Gomez fans won’t look back on her with the same passion that Guns N Roses fans look back on Axl, Slash, Duff, Izzy, and Steven.

And to say that Guns N’ Roses were just “part of genre much larger than they’ll ever be”?

That’s just incorrect.

Yes, they were lumped into that “hair metal” genre of the mid-late 80s.  And no, there’s nothing wrong with hair metal (big fan here - huge, actually).  But hair metal, GN’R is not.  They broke through that high hair/make-up machine churning on the Sunset Strip and came out screaming at the top of their lungs (literally).  They didn’t look like the hair metal guys, they didn’t sound like the hair metal guys, and they didn’t want to be the hair metal guys.

Now for my last point.  I’m not sure how old all the writers in this article are, and I wouldn’t even think that was relevant (pun intended), except for the fact that one of the commentators starts off by saying he bought his one and only GN’R album in the late 90s just as he was entering his teenage years.  And that album was….The Spaghetti Incident?.

Blank stare, no words.

He goes on to say that he is “familiar with the group’s hits, but neither the songs nor the band’s supposed fans ever came across as sincere.”

So.  Excuse me while I go through the fucking computer. 

First of all, the only GN’R album he ever owned was The Spaghetti Incident?.  Enough said on that one.

Secondly, being familiar with the group’s hits isn’t quite enough to allow you to provide credible commentary on GN’R.  In fact, some of their best songs weren’t “hits”.  Have you LISTENED to “My Michelle”?  “Rocket Queen”?  Holy hell, son.  That music…those lyrics…they’re real and raw and they punch you right the gut.

So I’ll let you laugh about how big a joke you think GN’R is and how funny it is to you that “moms and dads alike wonder how they’re ever fit into those leather jeans”.  In the meantime, I’ll keep listening to the songs that have stayed with me (and thousands upon thousands upon THOUSANDS of others), and pray to God that a band with half of the talent and raw energy of GN’R comes along one day to save your soul.

Oh, and PS, junior – I wore shorts to the concert.  It was way too hot for leather.

Until LA Guns –

Jen

 

SEBASTIAN BACH

with Santa Cruz

Mercy Lounge – Nashville – May 11, 2016

So here’s the weird thing.  When I told people I was going to see Sebastian Bach during his stop in Nashville on May 11th, a number of them asked me why.  Which I found surprising and, quite frankly, downright disturbing.  Because, I mean, I’m sorry…..but why would I not go see Sebastian Bach?  In fact, just to get this off my chest, let me recount a few of the comments I received from those who obviously hold nothing sacred in their lives:

     1.  “You know he can’t hit those notes like he used to.”
     2.  “Ugh, he’s such a diva.”
     3.  “Sebastian Bach?  Really?  He turned into such a tool.” 

Yeah.  Well.  Here’s the deal.  In my house, we don’t talk about Sebastian Bach like that. 

I don’t care if he can or cannot hit those notes (to be discussed later in this review) or if he is or isn’t a diva.  He still fronted one of the best rock n roll bands of the 80s/90s (which, by the way, I never got to see during that period due to a mother who didn’t think a teenage girl should go to such concerts without parental supervision – the thought of which was clearly horrifying to me).  And though Rachel Bolan and Snake Sabo are talented musicians in their own right, I’ve seen their version of Skid Row, and I gotta say:  it just ain’t Skid Row without Sebastian Bach.  It’s the same reason I gravitate towards the Phil Lewis/Steve Riley incarnation of L.A. Guns.  Even though I think Tracii Guns is an amazing guitar player, it’s the voice that I know.  It’s the voice that brings back the good ol’ days when I was nothing but a small town girl with high hair and big dreams of dancin’ down on the Sunset Strip (maybe why my mother prohibited me from attending these concerts without her?).  Regardless, that’s why I go see these bands. To relive my youth for a couple of hours and hear the songs the way I remember them.  Well, that and to show my mom I do what I want now.

The show was advertised to start at 9pm, but I received an email that day informing me that there was now an opening band that would come on at 8pm - so if I wanted a refund, I could get one. Yeah, no.  That’s just crazy.  Whoever actually asked for a refund, I don’t ever want to know you.  The semi-annoying thing about this, though, was that the opening band actually came on at 9pm.  So much for the email. 

The opening act was a group who calls themselves Santa Cruz.  I don’t know why they call themselves this since they're from Finland.  I suppose because it's better than Helsinki...or Espoo (had to google that one).  But hell, the most kick-ass band to ever come out of Finland named themselves after a city in Vietnam, so, you know...maybe it's a "thing".  Speaking of said band, when I found out the Santa Cruz guys hail from the land of the midnight sun, I have to admit I got kind of excited and thought I might be seeing the next Hanoi Rocks.  Nah, not so much.  Doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy them, though.  They were definitely entertaining, and their sound was hard but catchy.  It’s worth checking them out if they ever stop in your town. 

By the time Sebastian took the stage at around 10:15pm, my friend and I had already been lamenting for an hour with another 40-something standing next to us about how much the next day was going to suck.  But as soon as Baz tromped out onto the stage – all 7 feet, 10 inches of him - hands in the air and smile on his face, we forgot about that and all was forgiven.  The set began with Jimi Hendrix’s “Little Wing”, which was an interesting choice.  It didn’t exactly get me hyped up, but it was nice, and Baz and the band did a good job with it.  After the next song, “Breakin’ Down”, which is a great tune from the Subhuman Race album, Sebastian launched into a country song he had written in Nashville called “Battle with the Bottle”.  Meh. He sounded good, but I’m not a huge country fan so it didn’t do much for me -- and I was about to start climbing the walls if I didn't hear some of the old tunes.

Once we had all cried into our beers, it was time for Baz to hit us with some serious Skid Row, and he immediately launched into “18 & Life”.  YES. GOLD.  Exactly what I wanted.  And then….sigh – another cover song, “Rock n Roll is a Vicious Game” by April Wine.  Now, don’t get me wrong -- that’s a great song.  But I was getting a little nervous at this point.  Had I signed up for a night of covers and country songs?!  Fortunately…..no.  For the rest of the show, it was all Skid Row and Slave to the Grind (with just a few exceptions), and the songs he choose from those albums were solid:  “I Remember You”, “Piece of Me” (my personal fav off the Skid Row album), “Big Guns”, “Sweet Little Sister”, “Rattlesnake Shake”, "Youth Gone Wild",  “Slave to the Grind”, and “Monkey Business” had the whole crowd HORNS UP.  He offered up some funny banter and stories between songs, one in particular about how as a kid, he had admired Willie Nelson with his big tour bus and “hay bales full of weed” and knew he wanted to grow up and be that guy.  Hey, I get it, Bas.  I was in my bedroom wishing I was dancing at the Seventh Veil and riding on the back of Nikki Sixx's motorcycle.  Some dreams come true...and some people become accountants.  Sadly, my personal tweet to Bas asking for a little “Wasted Time” action must’ve gotten lost in Twitter world because, alas, there was none (such a diva, right?!).  But he did finish off the show with a killer version of “TNT”, which was a great way to end the night.



So.  Let me break this down for anyone who ever doubts Sebastian Bach.  What matters most to me is the show.  The music.  The presence on the stage, not behind the scenes.  And on stage, Sebastian Bach genuinely seemed to be having fun and enjoying the moment.  He said something about being a “happy guy” these days, and I think he is.  Constant interaction with the audience. High-fiving and grabbing the hands that were reaching for him.  Letting us sing into the microphone (and not because he couldn’t sing or was out of breath -- my guess is that if you're reading this, you've probably been to that concert and know the pain).

In conclusion, I offer this.  Did Bas come on late?  Yes.  Does that mean he’s a diva?  Maybe. Did he hit every note exactly the way he would’ve in 1989?  I don’t know because my mom wouldn’t ever let me go see them.  But while my guess is that no, he probably didn’t, it was definitely close enough for me and the rest of the crowd.  I’ll be the first to admit when a singer just ain’t got it anymore, but I can say with absolute certainty that Bas is not that guy.  Bach’s still rockin', people, and I don’t see him stopping anytime soon.  So next time he’s in town, I’m definitely showing up…and I’m punching anyone who questions my attendance the f^ck out. 

Kidding/Not Kidding -

Jen

 

FASTER PUSSYCAT

DIRTY 30 TOUR

THE BASEMENT EAST - NASHVILLE

 

When I got my “Bands in Town” alert that Faster Pussycat was playing Nashville’s The Basement East on 4/18, I have to admit, I had a small freak out.  The last time they had been in town (that I knew of/remembered), I was ridiculously pregnant and not feeling like I wanted Taime Downe to see me in such a state.  Not that he’d ever seen me in any state at all.  But I figured that just in case he did see me and ask me to go on tour with them, it would be better to just stay home, give birth with my husband present, and catch them the next time around.  So upon learning the news, I immediately texted my trusted hair metal concert pal, who bought our $10 (!!!!!!!!!!!!) tickets and exclaimed, “This is awesome!  It’s like they’re paying us to go!”

 

I had been curious what the “Rare Hare” listed on the event notification actually meant.  I just figured it was a play on words honoring the AquaNet addiction of 80s glam rockers.  But turns out, Rare Hare is actually a band of Nashville-based touring musicians who play hairband covers.  Who knew?  And why the hell Faster Pussycat opened for a cover band, I still don’t know.  But whatever the reason, it was a god-send for a mom who is usually in bed, drooling on her pillow, by 9pm.

The show began about 45 minutes after the stated start time of 8pm – which is not too bad considering I’ve had to wait a lot longer than that for bands.  The thing is, I have a problem with needing to be at a venue with at least 30 minutes before a show is supposed to start.  15 minutes is my absolute limit before major anxiety ensues and shit hits the fan.  This disorder usually results in me standing around for at least an hour and a half and dropping at least $20 more on drinks.  I know this, yet still I insist.  This time, however, my friend had the tickets, so I was at his mercy.  And he was running late. By the time he pulled up at 7:55pm, I was borderline psychotic. 

But I maintained, and as soon as we got up to the door, John Corabi, former Motley Crue replacement singer and now Nashville resident, totally cut line in front of us.  But it was cool because he did apologize, and he was really just trying to stand next to his wife, which was super adorbs.  I am still thanking the 8 lb, 6 oz newborn baby Jesus that I had only had one beer before heading to the Eastside; otherwise I have no doubt that I would’ve forced Corabi to trade insider dirt about Nikki Sixx for the spot in line.  At which point, of course, my husband would have grabbed me by the shoulders, steered me back to our car, and taken me back to the ‘burbs.

Luc Carl, hot mullet guy/radio personality/former lover of Lady Gaga (google that shit), introduced the band by letting all the men in the audience know that they were idiots if they brought their chicks with them to the show because Faster Pussycat is the sleaziest band ever to crawl up out of the gutters of the Sunset Strip.  I’m paraphrasing and not doing Mr. Carl justice, but you get the point.  A metal version of Antoine Dodson’s famous rant warning citizens to “hide yo' wives, hide yo' kids”.   

So when a dark-haired guy wearing a bandana and all black walked on the stage and strapped on his guitar, I wasn’t sure what to expect.  After all, I grew up with the cherubic Brent Muscat as the FPC guitarist (along with Greg Steele).  And if you don’t know who Brent Muscat is, just imagine a big smile, big eyes, and downright un-threatening presence.  Like, seriously - any child, no matter how many times her mama warned her about strangers, would take candy from Brent.  But when the "new guy" turned around, his face was actually just as sweet.  Oh, he was trying to be a dirty rocker, what with his eyeliner and raccoon tail clipped to his jeans, but he wasn't foolin' me.
 

None of the folks on the stage at this point – lead guitarist, Ace von Johnson; drummer, Chad Stewart, bassist, Danny Nordahl; or guitarist, Xristian Simon, had been in the original FPC line up, though some of them have been touring with Taime Downe, lead singer and former blonde, for over 15 years.  So, of course, the crowd was on pins and needles waiting for Taime’s entrance.  And what an entrance it was.  The fans packed up against the stage were going wild.  These were hard-core Faster Pussycat fans, and I have to admit, I really didn’t know that was a “thing”.  And I mean, I really dig Faster Pussycat.  But, like, I’m afraid for these people’s lives if FPC ever breaks up.  I’m not sure how they’re going to go on.  And this isn't a slam against these folks.  I've got nothing but mad respect for that kind of dedication.
 

Taime has adopted a darker, biker, semi-gothic look over the years, in contrast to his more feminine make-up palette and “jacked up to Jesus” blonde tresses of the late 80s/early 90s.  And it’s cool.  It works for him.  I mean, please.  He’s Taime Downe.  He does what he wants - including chain smoking American Spirits throughout the entire set at a non-smoking establishment. 

So when he sauntered onto the stage like it was 1990 and “House of Pain” (their highest Billboard charting single) was on the MTV every 10 minutes, I knew I was in for a treat.   The band began by playing the iconic intro to Led Zeppelin’s “When the Levee Breaks”, before launching into “Jack the Bastard” off their 1992 Whipped! album.  It’s a great song, but never made any mainstream waves due to the grunge take-over that was in full effect during that time.  Taime held his hands up and out to the side like he was a god and to be worshipped.  And worshipped he was.  The guy sounded really good.  The band was tight (at least to my <untrained> ear – my husband would probably have some sort of critique, but, I’m sorry, is he in a band that’s survived in one form or another for 30 years?).  Ace von Johnson’s stage presence was super hot and on-point for a lead guitarist -- complete with back bends, spitting, and pick-throwing.  I was a little nervous that I could have technically given birth to the guy, but now that I know he’s only 8 years younger than me, I feel a little less pervy.

A mix of hits and a few lesser known tunes (at least to the non- hardcore FPC fans) followed, including a fun punk rock interlude led by my new secret lover, Ace.  They played all my old favs – “Cathouse”, “Babylon”, “House of Pain”, “Slip of the Tongue”, and “Bathroom Wall”.  Noticeably absent were "Where There's a Whip, There's a Way", as well as “Poison Ivy” (which I maintain is a severely underrated song and one of just a handful of tunes in rock history that's able to successfully reference calamine lotion).  But overall, the set list was solid and more than pleased the crowd.   I was selfishly hoping that they would pull out "Please Dear" from the Wake Me When It's Over vault, but no such luck. 

Fortunately, any lingering disappointment from not hearing "my song" quickly dissipated when Taime shook up his bottle of Bud and unleashed it on an unsuspecting crowd.  Well, I mean, *I* - having never seen them in concert until now - was unsuspecting.  This may be standard for Taime, but it was a first for me.  And it was freaking awesome.  My husband grumbled in the car about how he now needed to take a shower before bed.  But not me.  I decided I was gonna hold onto that for the rest of the night.  Because while I didn’t get to hang around after the show and meet Taime or any of the rest of the band (I was paying a babysitter more than my damn ticket had cost), I did have his beer on my shirt.  Not to mention that I caught the guitar pick that Ace von Johnson clearly threw directly at me.  I mean, not really.  But I’ll just hold onto that, too. 

Until the Sebastian Bach show on 5/11 -

Jen