L. Kent Wolgamott: Smaller shows capture true rock 'n' roll moments
Tuesday night, when The Charms stopped at the Zoo Bar on their first U.S. tour, I got to revisit one of those rare live music thrills that I thought was long gone.
For the past year or so, I’d heard a handful of the Massachusetts band’s songs on the radio. But until a couple of weeks ago, I didn’t have any of their CDs and hadn’t bothered to try to find any of their music online. Instead, I was content with the tunes Little Steven Van Zandt and Kid Leo selected for play on the Underground Garage on Sirius satellite radio.
But I jumped at the chance to see them when they came to town and to hear “Pussycat,” “Gimme That Shot” and other familiar tunes done live.
That radio-to-stage move has long been one of the things that creates special music moments. But most of the bands I like don’t get played on commercial radio and learning of a band through a CD or two is very different from hearing them on the radio, then getting the chance to catch them live and get the full picture of what the band’s about.
Tuesday, then, was set up to be special for me — the return of a familiar, entertaining experience — and it was just that and more.
The songs were more frenetic live, delivered with punch and passion as they stretched out into garage psychedelia.
Crammed onto the tiny Zoo stage, The Charms were a riveting visual outfit with singer Ellie Vee commanding the attention, constantly moving in her flowery-printed, shiny minidress, her powerful voice cutting through the high-volume fuzz created by the combination of guitars, bass, drums and Farfisa organ.
This was the real deal — rock ’n’ roll right out of the garage done exactly right.
“This was pretty rockin’ for a Tuesday night,” Vee said near the end of The Charms’ set — at 45 minutes, the perfect length for a show. Indeed it was.
And it’s experiences like “Pussycat” live, with extra purring and growling from the sexy Vee, that make the neon brighter when you’re driving home and remind you once again why you love rock ’n’ roll.
I’m relating that story, in part, because The Charms are a great band that deserve as much attention as they can get.
But it’s also in response to a piece former Washington Post pop music critic David Segal wrote at the end of August about leaving that Post and his quest for what he called the Live Concert Moment.
Segal rightly talked about the highly choreographed nature of arena shows, where, regardless of genre and performer, the same basic thing happens at the same time each night. That’s a near requirement because of the intricate lighting, effects and staging that go into today’s concerts.
But the choreography and routine nearly eliminate the spontaneity that makes for great moments — and it’s part of the reason why, given the choice, I’ll take a club or small hall show over an arena concert any time.
The other difference that results from venue size is the intimate connection that comes through between the audience and the performers in a club show.
That was evident a couple of weeks ago on back-to-back nights at Duffy’s Tavern.
The first night, the Supersuckers connected with the crowd via frontman Eddie Spaghetti’s wise-guy banter. Turning down a shot of Jagermeister because he’s too old, he passed the drink onto the merchandise salesman who was celebrating his birthday that evening.
The second night a far smaller crowd caught the first Lincoln appearance of The Drams, the three-fourths of the band formerly known as Slobberbone. That crowd was so small that a slightly inebriated old hippie type was able to keep a running conversation going with the keyboard player and not change the performance in any significant way.
Suffice it to say you’re never going to talk to, say, The Edge, when U2 comes to the Qwest Center, and Brad Paisley’s stage remarks will likely be the same at Pershing Center in a few weeks as they were the previous night and won’t have anything to do with Jager.
That’s not a bad thing. Arena shows can have their own power that draws on the mass popularity of the performers, their talent and stagecraft. But there’s still nothing like seeing a great band in the smallest possible venue. That’s where Segal’s Live Concert Moments really happen.
The point I’m trying to get at here is, rather than spending a couple of hundred bucks for a two-hour show by a huge act, you’re likely to be better off spending that cash $10 or $20 at a time and catching some real sparks in clubs and small halls.
Besides, the Rolling Stones don’t need the money. The Charms and their contemporaries do.
Reach L. Kent Wolgamott at 473-7244 or kwolgamott@journalstar.com.
For the past year or so, I’d heard a handful of the Massachusetts band’s songs on the radio. But until a couple of weeks ago, I didn’t have any of their CDs and hadn’t bothered to try to find any of their music online. Instead, I was content with the tunes Little Steven Van Zandt and Kid Leo selected for play on the Underground Garage on Sirius satellite radio.
But I jumped at the chance to see them when they came to town and to hear “Pussycat,” “Gimme That Shot” and other familiar tunes done live.
That radio-to-stage move has long been one of the things that creates special music moments. But most of the bands I like don’t get played on commercial radio and learning of a band through a CD or two is very different from hearing them on the radio, then getting the chance to catch them live and get the full picture of what the band’s about.
Tuesday, then, was set up to be special for me — the return of a familiar, entertaining experience — and it was just that and more.
The songs were more frenetic live, delivered with punch and passion as they stretched out into garage psychedelia.
Crammed onto the tiny Zoo stage, The Charms were a riveting visual outfit with singer Ellie Vee commanding the attention, constantly moving in her flowery-printed, shiny minidress, her powerful voice cutting through the high-volume fuzz created by the combination of guitars, bass, drums and Farfisa organ.
This was the real deal — rock ’n’ roll right out of the garage done exactly right.
“This was pretty rockin’ for a Tuesday night,” Vee said near the end of The Charms’ set — at 45 minutes, the perfect length for a show. Indeed it was.
And it’s experiences like “Pussycat” live, with extra purring and growling from the sexy Vee, that make the neon brighter when you’re driving home and remind you once again why you love rock ’n’ roll.
I’m relating that story, in part, because The Charms are a great band that deserve as much attention as they can get.
But it’s also in response to a piece former Washington Post pop music critic David Segal wrote at the end of August about leaving that Post and his quest for what he called the Live Concert Moment.
Segal rightly talked about the highly choreographed nature of arena shows, where, regardless of genre and performer, the same basic thing happens at the same time each night. That’s a near requirement because of the intricate lighting, effects and staging that go into today’s concerts.
But the choreography and routine nearly eliminate the spontaneity that makes for great moments — and it’s part of the reason why, given the choice, I’ll take a club or small hall show over an arena concert any time.
The other difference that results from venue size is the intimate connection that comes through between the audience and the performers in a club show.
That was evident a couple of weeks ago on back-to-back nights at Duffy’s Tavern.
The first night, the Supersuckers connected with the crowd via frontman Eddie Spaghetti’s wise-guy banter. Turning down a shot of Jagermeister because he’s too old, he passed the drink onto the merchandise salesman who was celebrating his birthday that evening.
The second night a far smaller crowd caught the first Lincoln appearance of The Drams, the three-fourths of the band formerly known as Slobberbone. That crowd was so small that a slightly inebriated old hippie type was able to keep a running conversation going with the keyboard player and not change the performance in any significant way.
Suffice it to say you’re never going to talk to, say, The Edge, when U2 comes to the Qwest Center, and Brad Paisley’s stage remarks will likely be the same at Pershing Center in a few weeks as they were the previous night and won’t have anything to do with Jager.
That’s not a bad thing. Arena shows can have their own power that draws on the mass popularity of the performers, their talent and stagecraft. But there’s still nothing like seeing a great band in the smallest possible venue. That’s where Segal’s Live Concert Moments really happen.
The point I’m trying to get at here is, rather than spending a couple of hundred bucks for a two-hour show by a huge act, you’re likely to be better off spending that cash $10 or $20 at a time and catching some real sparks in clubs and small halls.
Besides, the Rolling Stones don’t need the money. The Charms and their contemporaries do.
Reach L. Kent Wolgamott at 473-7244 or kwolgamott@journalstar.com.
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