Journalist, Author & Syndicated Columnist
At most rock concerts at the Rosemont Horizon, the poor suckers stuck in the back rows have to make do with catching glimpses of the performers on the huge video monitors. Not at Melissa Etheridge’s show Saturday night. An hour after her 8:20 start, the singer briefly disappeared, only to reappear on a makeshift stage at the back of the stadium, where she played for the next 50 minutes.
You’d think that after performing for almost 2 1/2 hours and giving the audience three sets of encores, the Smashing Pumpkins would have run off the stage after their sold-out concert Friday night at the Rosemont Horizon. But when the house lights came on, there was a strange sight on stage. Singer Billy Corgan was still there, acknowledging the adulation of his cheering fans and obviously relishing the band’s triumphant homecoming.
Noel Gallagher appeared comfortable taking the stage without his brother. Whether he stayed in his usual spot–stage left–out of habit or respect for his brother is debatable (although I’m guessing the former). But if there was any question about his ability to command a crowd’s attention with his voice, it was quickly dispelled when he started their 15-song, 85-minute set with “Acquiesce,” a track not included on either of their albums. As he sang the telling refrain, “‘Cause we believe in each other,” the crowd furiously pogoed its approval back at him.
At the Aragon soundcheck, it was Liam who was intent on hassling Noel. The moody singer jumped off the stage and meandered around the venue playing with a worn soccer ball. Looking at Noel, who was still rehearsing, Gallagher took aim and expertly kicked the ball to or, depending on who you asked, at his brother. Noel stopped the ball with his right foot, but wouldn’t surrender it to Liam until the song was over.
Fans at the Sex Pistols’ reunion concert at the Aragon Saturday night spit, swore and threw plastic cups filled with beer, ice and soda at the aging punk rockers. Kinda makes you wonder what they would’ve done if they hadn’t liked the band so much. Yes, it was just like the old days, except the Pistols didn’t return the volleys as they would have in their late 1970s heyday.
Envy those who have tickets to this solid, eclectic sold-out concert. If ever there was a male waif, it’s Beck Hansen. Thin and slight, his frame gives off the misleading impression that he’s a small child playing at being a rock star. But Thursday – in the first of two sold-out nights at Metro – the multitalented musician roared out with confidence and turned in one of his most solid, eclectic sets. Beck’s music personifies what now has become a generic definition for “alternative.”
Visually, Dogstar is all about Keanu Reeves, but the movie star bassist takes a back seat to vocalist-guitarist-lyricist Bret Domrose on record. Live, Domrose’s vocals tend to get drowned out by Reeves and drummer Rob Mailhouse, but the mix on this record fixed that problem.
Sometimes you get so used to being uncomfortable at concerts that it’s easy to forget just how much fun a rock show can be. At Brian Setzer’s sold-out gig on Monday night at the Skyline Stage on Navy Pier, no one moshed or body surfed. The smell in the air wasn’t of pot and cigarettes, but rather a light fragrance of Bryl Creem and other hair products.
The Goo Goo Dolls skyrocketed to stardom last year on the strength of their bittersweet ballad “Name.” The difference between the Goo Goo Dolls and most rock bands, though, is that guitarist Johnny Rzeznik has a voice that’s consistently alluring live, whether he’s singing a searing rendition of the Plimsouls’ “Million Miles Away” or conveying the chaos of “Long Way Down.”
There is a sweetness to Tori Amos’ voice that belies the bleak elements of her songs. Her pristine vocal range, which has led to favorable comparisons with Kate Bush, Joni Mitchell and Ricki Lee Jones, is so intoxicating that at times it’s easy to forget that she’s singing songs about rape, abuse and the downfall of religious icons.
Jarvis Cocker is a tall, stick of a man who doesn’t look as if he could possibly possess the deep, rich, resonating voice he has. At Pulp’s sold-out concert Tuesday night at Metro, the gangly, twitching front man for the British sextet could’ve been a laughingstock if his strange antics were all he had to offer. But as with most great performers, he used his body to accentuate the positive, which in this case is the band’s superbly lyrical songs.
Kravitz fares best when he sticks to four-minute rock songs. The lengthy jams have got to go. Unlike some of his critics, Lenny Kravitz doesn’t view it as a problem that some of his music is reminiscent of songs by the Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Smokey Robinson or Led Zeppelin. Rather, the sinewy musician flicks away any comparisons – good or bad – as easily as he tosses aside his long dreadlocks and keeps writing songs with strong backbeats and deliciously catchy pop hooks.
You’re a novice Beatles fan. You could pick John Lennon and Paul McCartney out of a lineup. But you don’t know which one sang “Strawberry Fields Forever” (John). And you don’t have a clue on where to begin to get a handle on the world’s most famous musical group. What to do? Plenty. ABC’s “The Beatles Anthology” can help get you up to speed on the Fab Four’s career and chronology.
It’s difficult to believe it has been three years since the Gin Blossoms released their breakthrough album “New Miserable Experience” – until you attend their concert and realize you know just about every song. Nonetheless, the familiarity of the Blossoms’ music did nothing to detract from the enjoyment of their well-crafted pop-rock songs when the musicians headlined Sunday at the Taste of Chicago.
In a perfect triple bill for a beautiful summer night, the Spin Doctors, Gin Blossoms and Cracker played to a capacity crowd Saturday night at the World Music Theatre, and the band’s diverse musical styles couldn’t have complemented each other better.
Chris Isaak used to joke that he had less screen time in the three films he’s been in so far than in the video for his breakthrough single, “Wicked Game.” Those days are gone. The San Francisco-based singer-actor stars as the father of a young boy believed to be a reincarnated Buddhist teacher in Bernardo Bertolucci’s “Little Buddha” (now playing in Chicago at the Fine Arts). Last year, Isaak took a break from recording for filming in Nepal and Seattle.
Divided into two sets, spanning more than 26 songs and running three hours long, Poi Dog Pondering’s spectacular concert Friday night at the Vic was the creative realization of ambitious leader-singer Frank Orrall. In the second of four sold-out shows – three evenings at the Vic followed by a gig Sunday at Lounge Ax – Poi Dog Pondering put on an event that transcended the boundaries of a typical rock ‘n’ roll concert.
Candy-coated. Saccharine. Gaggingly syrupy. Celine Dion’s heard it all from critics who hate her music. “I’m used to getting some critics who like me and some who can’t stand me,” says the French-Canadian singer, who was sweet enough to call us from Quebec. “Thank goodness there are more people out there who like syrup.” Since 1990, when Dion released her first English-language album, “Unison,” Dion has won a loyal following of fans who fell in love with her smooth vocal delivery on such songs as “Where Does My Heart Beat Now?” After her duet with Peabo Bryson on the Grammy Award-winning “Beauty and the Beast” a couple of years ago, she became a bona fide star.
The best thing about going to Duran Duran’s concert Sunday night at McGaw Hall was catching its opening act, James. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: It’s a bad, bad idea for headliners to hire opening acts that are more interesting than they are. Don’t get me wrong. I like Duran Duran. And for a couple of years in the ’80s, I truly loved them. Until they stopped growing.
Here he comes, here comes Speed Racer. The cartoon hero’s heading for the finish line again, only this time around, Chicago’s Alpha Team is driving him past the checkered flag.