The Tabernacle is one of my favorite venues in the southeast. It feels alive during good shows and this visit from MM is no exception. I think this is the first tour since Johnny Marr’s brief stint.
“Spitting Venom” is a vicious song live. It is powerful with frequent changes and massive crescendos.
The “Third Planet” is certain they’re bein’ watched …
“Talkin’ Shit About a Pretty Sunset” I fucking love this song.
Clip from “Satellite Skin”¬† At this poinhis was the second time I’d heard this song and I knew I liked it so I grabbed a clip.
This is Mimicking Birds opening for Modest Mouse. They were really good. The drummer kind of led the band and played with the crowd. He seemed to be holding back and punctuated their quiet music.
Japanese Motors, the first act. This is my favorite song from them. guh.
The Smashing Pumpkins caught so much shit on this tour. People complained that they did not play enough “classics.” This is one of the best tours I’ve seen them on. They are not a nostalgia band despite how bad people want them to be. They played for 2 1/2 hours with a mix of b-sides, rarities, psychedelic jam sessions, re-worked old songs, new stuff, and of course, “classics.” They are brutal and punishing one minute, then tender and sweet another. Billy basically leads the show with the overwhelming force of his guitar and Jimmy Chamberlin is the fiercest drummer I’ve ever seen. The opportunity to see the two of them play their instruments live is worth the price of admission alone. People looking for “1979″ and “Disarm” can fuck off anyway. If they did just play Siamese Dream and Mellon Collie songs they’d be “cashing in.” Another case of damned if you do, damned if you don’t.
“Siva” from Gish
Blowing the doors off with “Superchrist”
“Mayonaise”
Two recorded versions of this song exist. This is the version of “Speed Kills” that appears on their Best of
“Transformer” Killer little rocker that was a Mellon Collie B-side
“Blues Jam” with Bill Corgan Sr. Billy closed the show by bringing out his bluesman father for a little jam.
OK, VW’s style of yuppy infused, ivy league brand of indie rock can be a bit irritating to the blue collar masses. I don’t really identify with summering in Cape Cod and can be a little put-off by world music influences for the sake of seeming culturally aware, but for a brief moment Vampire offered something a little different, something new and it was kind of fun . .. for a while.
With only the House of Blues in Lake Buena Vista and BackBooth offering worse audience viewing perspectives, Firestone was packed and offering the only position I seem to ever feel like attaining – the entrance by the door. “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa” is nearly drowned out by the undeservedly large crowds personal discussions. That’s what happens when A) You don’t really rock and B) Your music has found its way onto the iPods of douchebags.
“A Punk”
“Walcott” I really can’t relate to the feeling of just having to get out of Cape Cod. Sorry.
“One (Blake’s Got A New Face)” I really can’t relate to a guy named Blake either. What is it with these yuppy fucks?
Incredible band, great show, dazzling lights, and a craptacular venue. Plopped next to I-4 like a highway restroom and situated between scattered rural housing, it took only one concert at The Ford Amphitheater before locals complained about  noise.  In response, the venue turned it down. Way down. If you are not on the floor the concerts are at about conversation volume. A few loud discussions in your vicinity and the show is overpowered. Lame.
Radiohead, amidst cascading LED tubes tore through a widely varied set list with vigor.
Langerado was not in the cards for me this year so I took solace in the fact I could see Vampire Weekend and the new Blind Melon in intimate venues.  As reported here, VW cancels to play to a captive audience of millions…jerks, but the better band was to crush the tiny Back Booth in downtown Orlando.
I had reservations, as anyone would, which concerned Shannon Hoon’s replacement. Shannon Hoon’s presence is unmistakable and a key part to Melon’s sound, but the band is far too good to be held back without him. They have an incredible rhythm section. Glenn Graham and Brad Smith are amazing – tight jazzy and funky – and lay the backbone for some of the most innovative guitar work of the 90’s. Rogers Stevens and Christopher Thorn, weave their 70’s Saturday morning cartoon fuzz-sound in and out of each other creating truly impressive melodies as good as Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood ever did (Yes, I said that). Independently the guitars are creative, intricate works of swirling chord progressions, but together they make Blind Melon.
I remember standing outside The Edge in Orlando when Blind Melon opened for Lenny Kravitz because I couldn’t get tickets. Then cursing myself for missing the show I pledged to drive to Cocoa when they were playing a fair or festival 2 years later in 95. Shannon died in New Orleans 2 weeks before they returned.
Now, 13 years later, I would see one of my favorite bands. The show started early and I missed the first song or two. I entered during “Galaxie” and was instantly struck with chills as the vocals poured around the corner before I could see the stage from the double doorways by the bar, “And your givin’ me, a hated identity-y.” Eerie and magical it seemed like the ghost of a band long gone reaching across planes of being and throttling my collar.
The music was impeccable as they tore through classics like “Paper Scratcher,” “Drive,” and “The Pusher.” What was more impressive is Travis Warren’s voice, powerful, sad, and gravelly. Like seeing the Tennessee 3, Blind Melon presented the same paradox of closing your eyes during a song and daring you to think it could possibly be anything but the original. What is great is that it is not a carbon copy or weak imitation but a perfect fit. Where Shannon almost sounds fragile or vulnerable (that being part of the charm), Travis possessed the same sound with much more ferocity and power. There were rock moments of fierce howling and guttural screaming that shook the walls of the small bar. The crowd seemed to share my opinion with constant remarks around me like, “holy shit” and “wow!” The new material was impressive too as they peppered them in between older tunes. The audience sang nearly every word with the force of a much larger crowd. Warren summed it up best saying, “I’m not here to replace Shannon, nobody can. I am here to keep this great band going.”
Article originally appeared in REAX # 23, April 8 2008
The night began with troubles at the door. I guess my press credentials are somewhat suspect because my name apparently was not on the list. Now I don’t want to point any fingers – huh-hum cough REAX cough! Whoo! -Excuse me. Finally, thanks to the superior customer service of Club Firestone’s stellar managing partner, Mike Feinberg, I was able to experience the Wu.
I missed DJ Kittybat’s set, surely a crowd pleaser and perfect match for this show. Regrettably, I was able to see Black-182′s – sorry I mean Whole Wheat Bread’s – set in its entirety. Although I dig their energy and their “I Love Black People” T-shirt is one of the best merch items I ever saw, I was completely over re-hashed inoffensive neo-Green Day mall punk before it was invented.
The Wu took their sweet time, taking the stage sometime after 11:30. Prior complaints I boasted about hip-hop shows rang true. Poor sound and a poor mix lead to a bungled, bass heavy yell fest. The cool laid back flow of Method Man and the trademark nasal attack of Ghosty were all but lost. Moreover, Wu Tang’s unique, elaborate, layered textures of loops, beats and samples – their stony musical charm – was washed away in a sea of thudding low-end dissonance. Feedback and volume issues plagued the bakers-dozen of performers who passed mics like batons at a relay race throughout the entire set trying to find one that worked. The WTC should really be RZA, Method, Ghostface Killah, Raekwon and maybe Cappadonna just because of ODB’s earthly departure. The full crew is superfluous overkill, draining efficacy from the star performers.
That being said, no one can argue the star power and crowd rousing abilities of this experienced NYC crew. Despite audio issues, the crowd was pumped, eating out of WTC’s hands, especially Method Man. The hour and a half performance turned into the Method Man show. He was taunting and baiting the audience, climbing on speaker stacks, getting beers from the bar, crowd surfing and standing upright on top of the crowd as they moved through mostly classic Wu tunes such as “M-E-T-H-O-D Man,” “Bring Da Ruckus,” “Protect Ya Neck,” and “C.R.E.AM” mostly avoiding 8 Diagrams material (some of which I was anticipating). Another highlight was the tribute to Ol’ Dirty Bastard with a medley of hits including ‚ “Shimmy Shimmy Ya” with ODB’s brother 12 o’clock. I tipped my foe-tee in his memory and wondered what it would be like on that cramped stage with the kinetic, unpredictable ODB there as well.
Article originally appeared in REAX #21, February 9 2007
“M-E-T-H-O-D Man” Live
Method Man walks on the crowd at Firestone
“Shimmy Shimmy Ya” part of Ol’ Dirty Bastard tribute
