Lit - Still lighting it up like its 2002

Starting off the summer touring season our old friends from Orange County, Lit. Lit is chipping away towards a triumphant return with a new record and a couple of fresh faces. Starting in Ft. Lauderdale florida, Lit set out to make a statement, and that statement is, "Were not done yet."

Incase you were in solitary confinement from 1998 to 2003, you could not have escaped Lit's radio domination. They had become one of the few thriving faces of Rock music when the Brittney's, Ricky's, and boy bands took over. Much like their contemporary No Doubt, they were a definitive representation that the anger/ apathetic grunge movement was coming to an end. They were in that rare space of being accesable enough to play on top 40 stations, and hard enough to play on rock stations, safe enough for Hot AC, edgy enough for Alternative. MTV's final days of being a music formatted station had plenty of room in their programing to show Lit's stylish fun loving music videos over and over. Lit was any record label's dream come true.

Backtrack, I went to this show under a pretense that I might be uncomfortable reviewing it. For one, I can't help that I am a fan and have to try and remain objective. More importantly, I have an old friend who we used to play music together in my early rocking days. His name is Ryan Gillmor and he has been added to the Lit roster as a second guitarist, backing vocalist, keyboards and song writer. Unbenounced to Ryan I showed up ready to give an honest review despite my reservations. Luckily, giving an unforgiving review will not be an issue.

Curtains were drawn for an anticipated arrival of a crowd of approximately 250 eager fans. 250 didn't make for a packed house, but what they lacked in numbers they made for in fervor when guitarist Jeremy Popoff tour into the chords of their semi-hit "Four." Ajay Popoff strutted on the stage with no humility, no apologies, he came on like he had never been gone, just they way you would want him to come on.

The sound was pristine, its obvious they take the sound seriously, lit is not a bunch of rookies, they were polished before they hit it big. Lit also takes the stage show seriously. Watching the band play is like they are doing a rock zoomba class on speed. The band moves with an intensity like Mr. T in Rocky 3, you can't take your eyes off them for a second. But the most glaring observation that I could make is that the band doesn't have appeared to age a single day. From ten feet away I couldn't tell that I didn't fall into a time warp of the '90s. Lets face it, even when they were just a burgeoning on the national scale, they were not kids anymore, I would be surprised if they had a gold record before their ten year high school reunion. So imagine my surprise when the entire crowd seems to have aged older then the band.

The addition of Ryan Gillmor seems to have brought in a grander arena rock element to the ensemble. Growing into the music scene with Ryan I can vouch that he is the perfect combination of talent and humility, perfect to supplement the already supperior lineup that hadn't been altered for nearly 20 years prior.

Deeper than just making a live stage show interesting with energy, maintaing the youthful exuberence like the Stones, sounding as good as the record and adding a gunslinger to the mix, Lit seems to be out to out make some waves one more time.

They played at least 8 new tracks from their up coming record being released in mid june. All of which present material equal to or greater than what was on the record that put them on the map. However, anyone who knows anything about this unscientific business, is that there is no gaurantee good material will get noticed even if the band has Marquee value. Regardless, these guys are not rockers on walkers phoning in the new CD early just to have something to put out, they seem to have an agenda and that agenda could get interesting in the coming days. Lets put it like this, there is a good reason they are on the tour that Rolling Stone Magazine is calling the number 1 tour of the year.

At the end of the day, let it be known that when I am a multi-millionaire living on beach front property, Lit is high on my shortlist of bands who I want to come and entertain 1000 of my closest friends.

Roger Clyne and The Peacemakers - Backyard BBQ Tour

It can be difficult to give an objective review of the concert performed by your favorite band, and it's near impossible to give one when they played in your very own back yard.

In case you are unfamiliar with Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers, here is a brief synopsis of the seemingly cult status band that is passing you by unnoticed: RCPM was formed in 2000 from the ashes of the late '90s alternative band The Refreshments. The Refreshments had a couple of hits, MTV videos and radio releases that you may remember – Banditos, Girly, Down Together, Dolly, etc. And you most certainly may recognize their TV theme song to Mike Judge's King of the Hill.... Still doesn't ring a bell? Doesn't matter, because that doesn't begin to describe the cult of RCPM.

Their music can't really be described, but I will try anyway. Imagine the rock n' roll fun we feel when we hear Cheap Trick, The Ramones, Weezer. Then imagine the party we feel when we hear Jimi Buffet, Sammy Hagar, or a good Mariachi band. Imagine the lyrics of Springsteen with more sense of humor, the sense of adventure of Steve Earl, the sincerity of Johnny Cash.

The guitarists, bass and drummer have all done individually what so few rock musicians have achieved, finding their own voice, sound and style. Their recipe is unique, the ingredients are familiar. Their unity in rhythym and sound is world class.

RCPM are accessible, and musically respectable. They are deep, but not unrelatable; they are happy, but not corny; they are completely original, but not bizarre. You can listen to their music, check their videos on YouTube and think they are fun, but it won't be until you see them live that will you understand why twice a year they have thousands upon thousands of Americans from all over flock south of the border to watch their favorite band play at their famous event called Circus Mexicus.

Once a year they have a Backyard BBQ Tour to celebrate their biggest fans. RCPM will show up in their tour bus with a couple of bottles of Roger's famous award winning tequila, take the tour of your home, and enjoy your fresh home cooking. They have what I consider the coolest and friendliest roadies in business who will cheerfully do a terrific job in setting up the equipment for a rock show as good as what you will experience in the club or theatre.

My wife Michelle and I planned this event for several weeks. We had our tiered back yard decorated with Mexican flags, tiki torches, hand painted fan signs, pinatas, serape blankets, chili capped lights, Neon Cacti, you name it. We invited every friend we had who didn't leave town for the 4th july weekend, filled with fifty five lawn chairs, our backyard was ready party. A huge potluck was established with every sort of Mexican dish you can imagine – no one was going to be left hungry for food or for Rock n' Roll.

Our little home in Albuquerque was about to be blessed with possibly its finest hour when something strange happened. Our seven year draught ended seemingly all at once. The heaviest rain this town had experienced in seven years began practically the moment band took the stage. The crew and our friends and I frantically scattered, covering their equipment and instruments with blankets and tarps. The locals made the usual cliche of, "If you don't like the rain, wait five minutes." But the rain persisted for nearly 4 hours of heavy downpour.

Despite the almost comically tragic luck, we all pulled together under our little tin awning on our deck and the band gave what was possibly the most intimate show any of us has ever experienced. All of us huddled in that little area, protecting the band's equipment from the rain with our bodies, RCPM playing away as we were all dripping from head to toe.  We were all so packed that we were squeezed at elbow distance between guitarist Jim Dalton and Roger Clyne, and the drummer's bass drum was at our knee caps.

They opened with their fan favorite and show staple Mexico, followed by songs whose lyrics fit the appropriate situation, such as Leaky Little Boat, Love is the Road, Switchblade, Contraband, U.F.O. and any other song we wanted to hear. Regardless of the adverse conditions, unplanned equipment issues, they didn't play sloppy or like they didn't care. They played just as well as when I watched them open for John Fogerty or Sammy Hagar, or to their own album release in Phoenix. They brought the heat, while still keeping it intimate.

Not all of the crowd of 55 had the stamina to withstand the elements, but those of us who did experienced what is a once in a lifetime memory, and those who weren't fans before became fans for life. And, as it turned out, this show landed on our third wedding anniversary.

The band kept the attitude that this was even more fun than what was planned and seemingly had just as much fun as the crowd did for the 2 and half to 3 hours they played. I asked originally to play a song or two on the guitar to open up the show. At that point, I scraped the idea, but the band brought me in, as I played on Roger's guitar with his band that backed me up impromptu some Johnny Cash songs. The crowd sang along and it was the most epic experience of my life. The night was summed up when our friend Hailey who was new to the Peacemaker family said between songs, "Best. Party. Ever!"

The following morning before they took off to their next destination, they pulled up in their massive tour bus again to pick up some of their equipment they had left to dry off. They had breakfast with us that my wife Michelle had prepared. They sat and hung out with us and we all laughed about life, music, and Breaking Bad. It was like we'd known them for years, we were all perfectly comfortable being ourselves. The band were family men like us, they watch what food they eat like us, they probably listen to a lot of the same music and read the same books as we do. We felt such a sincere friendship even if it was only one evening and one morning – it didn't feel forced, or just polite – it was organic. They even played with our dog Snickers like our friends would.

If I can end on one note about the band, it's this: they are exactly like their songs' messages and philosophies: we are all the same on the inside, we are here to enjoy life and have good relationships. The lyrics to Roger's songs I believe are a reflection of the people he surrounds himself with and people he likes to perform for.

Warrant - In memory of Jani Lane

When telling the tale of when the pop music industry took its most drastic turn since the inception of Elvis or the Beatles, I will always point out the Seattle grunge movement. Then I will use a classic example of, "It was the end of the Warrants and the begining of the Nirvanas." Warrant for many was regarded as one of, if not the, last glamour rock band to surface before the teenagers began rejecting the happy go-lucky rockstars who celebrated their living in excess. Many people who remember those years can easily point out that it was BECAUSE of the Warrants that there was so much room for the dark sounds of the Sound Gardens and Stone Temple Pilots, pointing out that Warrant was one too many bands forced on us by the record companies who were trying to milk the glam genre for all it was worth. Some would say that Warrant was just a lesser Poison, and when they say that, they don't mean it to sing Poison's praises either.

No doubt that these arguements have validity to them--there was certainly no seats reserved for the members of Warrant in the 1994 MTV music awards or the Grammies for that matter. Nobody was using their material on rock radio, MTV/VH1, or even record store sound systems. The only place that probably made a place for Warrant was strip clubs, simply because of their song Cherry Pie which was just an absurd double entendre that supplied material for bands like Steel Panther to make a fruitful career out of ridiculing that genre with tongue firmly planted in cheek.

Regardless of society's outlook on Warrant, I was still a fan, I liked the songs; they were accessable to me and I always loved it when my older brothers would play their tapes on the boom box. Of course, I was 9 years old, and I grew out of them by the tender age of 10.

All that aside, I wish to give you the concert review that changed my mind about Warrant completely.
I was 18, a senior in high school when I saw the ad that Warrant was playing at Big Shots Pool Hall in Sacramento. Because of how difficult it was to get any of my friends to join me to see a band like Warrant in 1999, I had to go alone. Being openly into a band like Warrant in the late 90's was illegal, it was a dirty secret, and that genre hadn't become loveable in it's irony yet.

I was in the bathroom washing my hands because I touched something in that dirty little pool hall and I looked over at a non-descript, unassuming man who looked like the rest of the washed up crowd awaiting to see a has-been rock band 8 years after their passing. The man was about 5'7'', balding and had a beer gut and road stop gas station biker clothes. The man also had the distinctive froggy looking eyes that I remember so vividly. It was the singer Jani Lane. The 8 years since his last hit had not been good to him: he looked like 25 years had passed and he was not doing well. I greeted him anyway, "Hi, you're Jani Lane! I am a big fan, and uhhhhh good luck." Nervous, I couldn't think of anything else. He smiled, shook my hand and asked, "How old are you?....18?!" What, are you in a time bubble? You didn't bring any chicks did you?... Ha, I'm just kidding, thanks for coming to our show, we're going to rock this joint tonight my friend." With a smile and a wink, he then walked on stage and played Dirty Rotten Filthy Stinkin' Rich.

The band was dead on, note for note, they nailed the songs and they had a great sound. They too looked like many more years had passed then had really passed, but they were on their game. In their day, they were not considered axe-masters, they were not musically innovative or even considered that good at what they do, but dang they were on their game that night. They rocked that crowd of 80 aging rockers their full $15 worth. But what I really enjoyed from that show was not the exactness of delivery of the songs, or even necessarily watching a band simply out of nostalgia or singing along to campy 80's pop-metal love tunes... it was Jani Lane. He was one of the greatest frontmen I had ever seen.

As much as the band went from being poster dolls for women to being stage eyesores, they were extremely entertaining because of the completely unexpected sense of humor by Jani Lane. Coming from a genre that tended to take themselves very seriously and only made jokes at slutty women's expense, Jani Lane was surprisingly very self-depricating. "I want to address the men tonight. When I wrote this song, I was a wimp surrounded by women with hot underwear and I wanted some of that underwear. I hate the song and the record company bought my soul for it. But I know it helped most you guys get laid once, so you owe me a sing-along." He then proceeded to play his Power ballad, "Heaven". He ripped apart and made jokes about a lot of his songs, in a way that made you just let go of your folded arms and raise your fist and sing along to Uncle Tom's Cabin. Much like how we all forgive Ricky Henderson's cocky attitude because he was so funny, I was able to forgive Jani Lane for writing metal for teenage girls.

He often took his wireless mic into the crowd where he spent about 10% of the show entertaining from the pits and shaking hands with the audience and giving high fives. While in the center of the crowd, he was doing some story telling and set up his song I Saw Red. "A lot of these songs we sing are really stories that are complete bull shit, but this girl, well, I still hate this bitch." Once he was done, he ramped up his biggest number with, "This fuckin' song I wrote on the back of a pizza box as a joke to the record label making fun of what other bands were selling... Ironically it became our largest song. And as much as I want to hate it, awww hell, its still fun to play." And from the crowd he sang Cherry Pie, as he thanked the strip clubs for sending his royalties.

The band had no problem playing covers: they did Queen's We Will Rock You, and even gave a salute to their old cronies Razzle who now call themselves Lit by performing what at the time was their huge current hit, Worst Enemy. It was after all that Jani Lane said to the crowd, "So many other bands from our time just leave the stage and wait for the crowd to give them some ego boost demanding more songs, we're not going to do that bull shit to you guys, so we will play every song we will play right now that we would have done." They then closed the show with Black Sabbath, War Pigs... and I will add they did a fine job of a very tricky song.

Jani Lane was not a singer who you just had to watch his power live. He sang like he saw his high school choir teacher in the back of the crowd judging him. His voice may have been better suited going the direction of a soft rock love ballad guy like Richard Marx.
Don't get me wrong, he was very gifted, but he didn't possess the operatic talents of a Freddie Mercury or a Bruce Dickenson. He didn't have the power of his contemporaries David Coverdale or Sammy Hagar and he certainly lacked the serrated edged voice of Jeff Keith or an Axl Rose. But he had one thing those guys don't really have, which is an incredible stage humor. I felt like I watched a comedy show with rock n' roll, and I left completely satisfied. Jani Lane was the Rodney Dangerfield of rock music.

When the show was over, I hung around and bought an old drum head from the merch guy for $20 if he could get me back to get the band to sign it. Of course most people would argue that was a bad deal for me, but he made the deal and I got to see Jani one more time.
"Jani, that show was awesome, one of the best shows I have ever seen, pure entertainment, rock n' roll at its finest." He looked at me with a sincere thank you and a big smile.

13 years and hundreds of concerts later, I still stand by that statement I said to Jani Lane. Now I'll never get to see another Warrant show with Jani Lane, but I am grateful I did get to see one show. Most people who remember them will remember them for their candy pop-metal tunes for girls, and rightfully so, but seeing them in 1999 gave me much more to recognize them for. Still I will keep my windows rolled up when a Warrant song comes on car's mp3 player, and they may not have a nook waiting for them in Cleveland's Rock n' Roll hall of fame, but I will always remember how good of a show they put on. May your rest in peace Jani Lane, I hope heaven wasn't too far away after all.

Warrant - In memory of Jani Lane

When telling the tale of when the pop music industry took its most drastic turn since the inception of Elvis or the Beatles, I will always point out the Seattle grunge movement. Then I will use a classic example of, "It was the end of the Warrants and the begining of the Nirvanas." Warrant for many was regarded as one of, if not the, last glamour rock band to surface before the teenagers began rejecting the happy go-lucky rockstars who celebrated their living in excess. Many people who remember those years can easily point out that it was BECAUSE of the Warrants that there was so much room for the dark sounds of the Sound Gardens and Stone Temple Pilots, pointing out that Warrant was one too many bands forced on us by the record companies who were trying to milk the glam genre for all it was worth. Some would say that Warrant was just a lesser Poison, and when they say that, they don't mean it to sing Poison's praises either.

No doubt that these arguements have validity to them--there was certainly no seats reserved for the members of Warrant in the 1994 MTV music awards or the Grammies for that matter. Nobody was using their material on rock radio, MTV/VH1, or even record store sound systems. The only place that probably made a place for Warrant was strip clubs, simply because of their song Cherry Pie which was just an absurd double entendre that supplied material for bands like Steel Panther to make a fruitful career out of ridiculing that genre with tongue firmly planted in cheek.

Regardless of society's outlook on Warrant, I was still a fan, I liked the songs; they were accessable to me and I always loved it when my older brothers would play their tapes on the boom box. Of course, I was 9 years old, and I grew out of them by the tender age of 10.

All that aside, I wish to give you the concert review that changed my mind about Warrant completely.
I was 18, a senior in high school when I saw the ad that Warrant was playing at Big Shots Pool Hall in Sacramento. Because of how difficult it was to get any of my friends to join me to see a band like Warrant in 1999, I had to go alone. Being openly into a band like Warrant in the late 90's was illegal, it was a dirty secret, and that genre hadn't become loveable in it's irony yet.

I was in the bathroom washing my hands because I touched something in that dirty little pool hall and I looked over at a non-descript, unassuming man who looked like the rest of the washed up crowd awaiting to see a has-been rock band 8 years after their passing. The man was about 5'7'', balding and had a beer gut and road stop gas station biker clothes. The man also had the distinctive froggy looking eyes that I remember so vividly. It was the singer Jani Lane. The 8 years since his last hit had not been good to him: he looked like 25 years had passed and he was not doing well. I greeted him anyway, "Hi, you're Jani Lane! I am a big fan, and uhhhhh good luck." Nervous, I couldn't think of anything else. He smiled, shook my hand and asked, "How old are you?....18?!" What, are you in a time bubble? You didn't bring any chicks did you?... Ha, I'm just kidding, thanks for coming to our show, we're going to rock this joint tonight my friend." With a smile and a wink, he then walked on stage and played Dirty Rotten Filthy Stinkin' Rich.

The band was dead on, note for note, they nailed the songs and they had a great sound. They too looked like many more years had passed then had really passed, but they were on their game. In their day, they were not considered axe-masters, they were not musically innovative or even considered that good at what they do, but dang they were on their game that night. They rocked that crowd of 80 aging rockers their full $15 worth. But what I really enjoyed from that show was not the exactness of delivery of the songs, or even necessarily watching a band simply out of nostalgia or singing along to campy 80's pop-metal love tunes... it was Jani Lane. He was one of the greatest frontmen I had ever seen.

As much as the band went from being poster dolls for women to being stage eyesores, they were extremely entertaining because of the completely unexpected sense of humor by Jani Lane. Coming from a genre that tended to take themselves very seriously and only made jokes at slutty women's expense, Jani Lane was surprisingly very self-depricating. "I want to address the men tonight. When I wrote this song, I was a wimp surrounded by women with hot underwear and I wanted some of that underwear. I hate the song and the record company bought my soul for it. But I know it helped most you guys get laid once, so you owe me a sing-along." He then proceeded to play his Power ballad, "Heaven". He ripped apart and made jokes about a lot of his songs, in a way that made you just let go of your folded arms and raise your fist and sing along to Uncle Tom's Cabin. Much like how we all forgive Ricky Henderson's cocky attitude because he was so funny, I was able to forgive Jani Lane for writing metal for teenage girls.

He often took his wireless mic into the crowd where he spent about 10% of the show entertaining from the pits and shaking hands with the audience and giving high fives. While in the center of the crowd, he was doing some story telling and set up his song I Saw Red. "A lot of these songs we sing are really stories that are complete bull shit, but this girl, well, I still hate this bitch." Once he was done, he ramped up his biggest number with, "This fuckin' song I wrote on the back of a pizza box as a joke to the record label making fun of what other bands were selling... Ironically it became our largest song. And as much as I want to hate it, awww hell, its still fun to play." And from the crowd he sang Cherry Pie, as he thanked the strip clubs for sending his royalties.

The band had no problem playing covers: they did Queen's We Will Rock You, and even gave a salute to their old cronies Razzle who now call themselves Lit by performing what at the time was their huge current hit, Worst Enemy. It was after all that Jani Lane said to the crowd, "So many other bands from our time just leave the stage and wait for the crowd to give them some ego boost demanding more songs, we're not going to do that bull shit to you guys, so we will play every song we will play right now that we would have done." They then closed the show with Black Sabbath, War Pigs... and I will add they did a fine job of a very tricky song.

Jani Lane was not a singer who you just had to watch his power live. He sang like he saw his high school choir teacher in the back of the crowd judging him. His voice may have been better suited going the direction of a soft rock love ballad guy like Richard Marx.
Don't get me wrong, he was very gifted, but he didn't possess the operatic talents of a Freddie Mercury or a Bruce Dickenson. He didn't have the power of his contemporaries David Coverdale or Sammy Hagar and he certainly lacked the serrated edged voice of Jeff Keith or an Axl Rose. But he had one thing those guys don't really have, which is an incredible stage humor. I felt like I watched a comedy show with rock n' roll, and I left completely satisfied. Jani Lane was the Rodney Dangerfield of rock music.

When the show was over, I hung around and bought an old drum head from the merch guy for $20 if he could get me back to get the band to sign it. Of course most people would argue that was a bad deal for me, but he made the deal and I got to see Jani one more time.
"Jani, that show was awesome, one of the best shows I have ever seen, pure entertainment, rock n' roll at its finest." He looked at me with a sincere thank you and a big smile.

13 years and hundreds of concerts later, I still stand by that statement I said to Jani Lane. Now I'll never get to see another Warrant show with Jani Lane, but I am grateful I did get to see one show. Most people who remember them will remember them for their candy pop-metal tunes for girls, and rightfully so, but seeing them in 1999 gave me much more to recognize them for. Still I will keep my windows rolled up when a Warrant song comes on car's mp3 player, and they may not have a nook waiting for them in Cleveland's Rock n' Roll hall of fame, but I will always remember how good of a show they put on. May your rest in peace Jani Lane, I hope heaven wasn't too far away after all.

Motley Crue - When did Motley Crue become classic rock?

A massive flash of fire and smoke and a fast falling curtain revealed the night's main attraction. Cranking out with no hesitation, the thunderous Pop/metal hit, Wildside, one of the most thematic songs of Motley Crue catalogue. The return of Tommy Lee, Nikki Sixx, Mick Mars and Vince Neil to the big amphitheatre, with opening acts, The New York Dolls and Poison. The show was a giant salute to the greatest Glamour Rock bands that defined a significant chapter in Rock music's cumbersome history.

Oddly enough, if there was going to be one band from the 80's who definitely would not still have all their members alive and well enough to rock the big stage, it would argueably be the Crue. With all the legendary stories of alcohol, drug abuse and every other kind of vice you can think of spitting in the face of the generation changing to outlook on sexual promiscuity (assuming the bulk of their stories are true), Motley Crue should not still be standing.

 15 years ago, if you saw Motley Crue live, it would have been a bunch of washed-up rockers with that one guy who slept with Pam Anderson. But it was really clear to me that Motley Crue has superseded the has-been status, and now if felt like I was watching a legendary band, like KISS or AC/DC. Watching Motley Crue, dare I say, almost felt like, you must watch them whether you like them or not.

Maybe it's the fact that Wal-Mart has been selling retro rock band shirts like Motley Crue, or maybe it's Tommy Lee's reality shows and sex tapes that kept the band relevant... or maybe, just maybe, it's the songs. Songs that stood the test of relevancy that marched beyond its own trend, songs that are still worthy of a good head bang after its shelf life had superseded.

It's hard not to notice how many kids there were under the age of 20 who were not accompanied by adults watching this spectacle. The crowd loved the show, not like watching a modern day Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan or Ozzie Ozborne, where they are simply a shell of what they used to be, but they loved the show because the Crue can still bring the heat.

Drummer Tommy Lee did his famous drum solo upside down in a circular rollercoaster like platform. Heaven knows I have little tolerance for a drum solo, but watching Tommy Lee do a drum solo on a moving roller coaster was something to remember. As dumb as it sounds, it's really pretty amazing and fun to watch, mostly because he has fun riffing with the crowd as he does it, and like him or not, Tommy Lee's personality embodies all what the 80's glam metal stood for. In fact, you can sum up that entire generation by his stories alone. Watching Tommy Lee does NOT feel like you're watching an old dude-- it feels very relevant.

Nikki Sixx being the radio show host he is had his time on the mic, which was surprisingly pretty funny, and gave the show some great entertainment value as he summed up the bands existence: "Vince Neil and I have fought fist to face over and over again, and we will never stop rocking together, Mick Mars is somehow still alive, and Tommy Lee is on a #*$&% rollercoaster!"

Mick Mars is truly the reason I believe Motley Crue is so legitimized. The riffs that drive songs like S.O.S., Kick Start My Heart, Dr. Feelgood, and so many others. I have always loved the production of those epic rock anthems that Motley Crue rocks so well. Mars is in my head one of the most underrated guitar players of all time.... and I have always felt that was because of front man Vince Neil.

If you are like me, and you like the songs by Motley Crue, but sometimes get annoyed by the high pitched screeching vibrato of Vince Neil... then watching him live will not change your mind. Vince Neil to me, sounds like Hollywood's 1950's sci-fi depictions of Alien's saying words like Earthlings with a high pitch squeal.
All the band nailed those old tunes as good if not better than the recording, but Vince Neil, it's hard to appreciate what he brings to the table. It's been said that he is the Pillsbury Doughboy of rock, and after seeing him live, I tend to agree. His vocals, although close enough to pitch to be permissable for rock, felt very airy and lacked the guts and fangs that the songs called for. Not saying he should sing like a James Hetfield of Metallica, but maybe closer to the gravel of his arch nemesis Axl Rose would do him some good. His vocal performance just didn't have the guts to rock the joint, but if you already liked him for what he sounded like in the first place, you may disagree.

All in all, if you are a Motley Crue fan, you might not be disappointed. They played well and we're probably as good as they ever were. The great question as Jaret from Bowling For Soup pointed out,
"When did Motley Crue become Classic Rock?" This was no longer watching a band who is a fad, a novelty or just a bunch of old guys with a handful of hits; Motely Crue is a good ole rock band on their way to someday being inducted into the Rock n' Roll hall of fame... for better of for worse.

Poison - an Ironically fitting name

People often times try to convince me why there is nothing wrong with being a fan of Kenny Chesney, Bon Jovi or Britney Spears. I try to meet these people halfway and say, "Dude, there is nothing wrong with having a few guilty pleasures, we are all entitled to it... I for one am a Poison fan. I hate admitting it and I will never defend Poison, but dang it I still like them."

So going to see Poison live is like going a whole day eating nothing but fast food. Sounds like a good idea, but it leaves with you the same feeling inside. Live at the Journal Pavilion, Poison warmed up the crowd for Motley Crue. Never would I think that Poison would be a warm up act for one of their Glam Metal colleagues, but Poison's music hasn't maintained its relevance the way Motley Crue's has.

Now I am not a proponent of old bands adopting the look that the kids are doing, but I am also not a fan of the ones who hadn't changed their look in 20 years.... Poison only changed their look simply because of natural causes. Image aside, I couldn't wait for one of the great arena rock bands to take stage and play Fallen Angel and Nothing but a Good Time. They blasted on stage to an awkward and slightly off beat boom of leftover KISS fireworks, and began the show with the only gritty song they have, which is, Look What The Cat Dragged In. From the start, I was very disappointed; immediately it was evident that they should be playing in a medium size club or theatre. The four piece band just didn't carry well in an amphitheater situation and frankly had a hard time rocking the joint. All my fantasies of rocking until it hurts to the classics on the Poison catalog was extraordinarily underwhelming.

Drummer Ricky Rocket unfortunately fell victim of being from an era of drum solos in possibly the least placed emphasis of drummers in rock history. That being said, Ricky Rocket was no exception, and his drum solo was not entertaining, or even very good. Drum solos are possibly the worst thing you can do at your concert unless your drummer is famous like Travis Barker, Alex Van Halen, Buddy Rich or Neil Pert. Only drummers might like drum solos, but even a good drummer would have chuckled at Ricky Rocket's attempt. After this many years, it would probably be a good idea to leave the drum solo out of the song list... particularly when they are the warm up act.

On to C.C. Devile. Deville also fell victim of an age of guitar solos, and particularly guitar shredding masters. Now, it's hard to knock C.C. Deville for being a good guitar songwriter. Deville wrote some of the most memorable and catchy licks of the 80's, but he was by no means someone you would go to a show just to see him play. That being said, why would he insist on a guitar solo? His guitar solo lived basically at a slight variation of Eddie Van Halen's Eruption--I say variation because his variations seemed to mostly stem from his inability to play the song accurately. Watching him play is like watching your 17 year old nephew play Eruption and you say, "Dang dude thats pretty good! Sounds just like Eddie, keep it up!" When you say those words to a 17 year old, you are sincere, but when you see it from a man who has to be in his 50's, you say, "C.C., it's time you just skipped that part of the show."

All that can be forgiven, but what is hard to get past is Brett Micheals.

There was a promo on TV for the Apprentice with Brett Micheals that said, "Trump meets the bad boy of rock n' roll." Anyone who knows Brett Micheals could not have heard that and not thought something like, "That's like calling Chris Rock the family man of comedy." Michaels has become a parody of himself and he doesn't even know it. Much like William Shatner, except Shatner is pretty aware of how the world views him, along with Hasselhoff. Brett Michaels doesn't seem to know that it's been 22 years since he has been relevant, and talks about himself like they are still all over the radio. His vocal performance wasn't much to write home about, but what can you expect if you know the recorded material. He talks like an 11 year old's perception of what a front man sounds like and he made unwanted refrences about his health. As much as I don't care for a frontman who has nothing to say, it's five times worse when he has nothing to say and insists on speaking anyway. If you need a clearer picture of what it is like, imagine what Dog the Bounty Hunter would sound like. Michaels is possibly one of the worst on stage frontmen to make a successful career. To his credit, I will say after watching him, I tend to think Kenny Chesney and Tim Mc Graw may have learned a thing or two from him, and I don't mean that to be a bad thing.

All critizisms aside, even a jaded fan as myself can laugh off the ridiculousness of the show and just put his arm around his woman and sing along to Every Rose Has its Thorn and Something to Believe in. And couldn't help but really get into singing as loudly as I could to Talk Dirty To Me (which I still believe to be one of the greatest rock n' roll anthems ever). So, even if Poison really offers nothing culturally to the world, I think they give a solid and accidental meaning to their song, "Nothing But a Good Time!"

Social Distortion kick off their 2011 Tour in the Land of Enchantment

Live at the Sunshine Theatre in Albuquerque, NM, Sharks and Chuck Ragan join Social D for a sold out rock n' roll experience.

Sharks from England announced their first American show and first time watching Social D. The members couldn't have been older than 24 years old, if that, and they came revved up and ready to rock. Their music sounds very indicative of the British punk rock scene, reminiscent of bands like Buzzcocks and Stiff Little Fingers. The charismatic singer had a voice that sounds like he could be the son of Joe Strummer, and I am not yet convinced there isn't some connection. They were tight, aggressive and very listenable; they had a great sound. However, their songs lacked the memorability for me to walk to the merch table and buy a demo. I don't expect I will hear from them again, but I hope I do, and I hope they return with some killer tracks that get you singing along.

Chuck Ragan, a backwater punk trio with an acoustic guitar/harmonica, fiddle and string bass. You might want to grant them country or Cajun music, while stylistically they do resemble those genres, but they are all punk in the attitude. They prove you can be aggressive without effects. Tough, gritty cowpunk is possibly their most accurate pigeon hole. Ragan has a voice that can make Springsteen weep and a bear back down. They played second and took a 45 minute set. While they were unquestionably good and entertaining, they over stayed their welcome by about 15 minutes. Any Social D fan can jive with their sound and what they are doing, but we didn't pay $40 a ticket to see this band take up precious headliner time. They didn't leave anyone wanting more.

50% of the crowd wearing Social D T-Shirts chanting "SOCIAL D!" left a tough expectation to walk onto as the mass of crowd began pushing and swaying before the band strutted their way on stage. The band took the stage with Mike Ness coming out last wearing a Chicago Prohibition era bank robbers trench coat and fedora, looking like a true bad-ass, taking the crowds excitement level up to an almost inconceivable level. Breaking the tension with hard driving punk rock sound of Road Zombies, the testosterone that runs through the veins of all the men (and women) began their moshing and crowd surfing immediately. Don't be confused, this crowd isn't like a Slayer crowd where there is an unhealthy amount of machismo with thousands all simultaneously trying to prove which one is the true alpha dog in this pack. These are sincere fans who know the words to every song and foolishly sing along as if that song was written to supply their own lives' soundtrack. The band had a massive crowd singing along with every song. Hit or not, they were all hits to the fans, songs like, Sick Boys, Bakersfield, Ball and Chain, Bad Luck, Down on the World Again, etc. And to keep the show interesting and to break-up the monotony of crunching power chords and predictable songs, they played altered arrangements of some of their classics like Prison Bound, Reach For the Sky, and Cold Feelings. Approaching the end when they played Story of My Life, Ness addresses to the crowd, saying when he wrote it he thought it was the story of HIS life, but later he realized through the fans that it was the story of ALL of our lives. Which is why all the fans choose to identify with all the songs, because maybe the fans feel it could have been for them.

It's interesting that Social Distortion's career with hits on the radio seems to have peaked in the early to mid 90's; however, if you go to a show, they seem to be at their peak when you are watching them. They get bigger audiences every time you see them. They no longer have to tag themselves with another name to fill up a large theatre/music hall and sell tickets for $40 plus. And with the advent of social media, the fans know when the record comes out much faster and don't have to stay glued to a radio (which will probably not support your favorite bands anymore, anyway). You can speculate that Social D's songs at the peak of the MTV days were a bit ahead of their time or were too mature for the teenage audiences to appreciate, and now the audiences have grown up and began to see the light. It's no longer particularly cool for skater-punks to wear the Social D Skelly shirt or logo on the board. The fans are clearly not the Raider fans of Rock n' Roll who wear the shirts to show their street cred like a Dead Kennedy fan--these fans can't help but love the songs.

Buddy Guy once said, "Blues is easy to play, but is hard to feel." If you can believe the same could be said about Punk Rock, than Social Distortion would epitomize that statement. Mike Ness has walked the walk, which is why his music is so authentic. He wears his influence of Johnny Cash on his sleeve (and did so long before it was cool to be a young person who loves Johnny Cash), which is fitting because he has become the Johnny Cash of punk rock, and he actually gets cooler with age. There is a certain timeless-ness about his music that grants them the longevity. Social D is not like watching old rockers like Brian Setzer sing teenage hits like, "Sexy and Seventeen" or Alice Cooper sing "Schools out for Summer", and heaven knows what Blink 182 will look like in 20 years. Social D's songs just seem to mean more as people get older.

Although the band has seen more drummers than Spinal Tap, the acquisition of Brent Harding (from Deke Dickerson and the Ecco-Fonics) and Johnny "2 Bags" Wickersham (Cadillac Tramps) and Dan McGough on keys, legitimizes the band, giving the band an elite sound. What they play isn't particularly awe inspiring in musicianship, but it's the intensity, the exactness of delivery, and the sound that grants them deserved respect. They don't stare at their shoes and play--they still jump and walk onto the edge of the stage and rock as hard as Social D ever did.

The tour of course is in support of the New record "Hard Times and Nursery Rhymes," which is a very optimistic, almost capstone, like piece to sum up the career of Social D. Probably isn't most of the fans' favorite record, but still likeable. Luckily the band didn't force you to listen to every song on the album; they played the songs the fans wanted to hear first and foremost.

If you have not seen Social Distortion live, don't miss the chance when they come to your town. It's an experience like Rock n' Roll was meant to be. But prepare yourself by picking up a few CD's, it's not hard to listen to for new listeners and not difficult to learn the words. And it's definitely not hard to become a fan, especially after a Social D show.