DKT-MC5
The Palace, Melbourne
23 July 2004
By
PATRICK EMERY
Like so many other MC5 fans, I had been waiting in eager anticipation for
this gig since it was announced. Not even the ideological disappointment of
the Levis sponsored show in London could diminish my enthusiasm. MC5 recordings
were on high rotation in the lead-up to the gig, and I successfully taught
my 3 year old daughter to say 'Kick Out the Jams, Brothers and Sisters' (the
uncensored version can wait a few years yet), and my 10-month-old son some
air guitar moves. The fact that I'd had three wisdom teeth removed earlier
in the week didn't put a dampener on expectations.
The evening began with a ceremonial drink in the front bar of the Esplanade
Hotel to pay tribute to the recently-departed Arthur Kane, and to remember
Tim Hemensley (a big MC5 fan) on the first anniversary of his unfortunate
departure from our rock'n'roll world.
The Palace is a good venue to see a band, though still charges like a wounded
bull for green tubes. We missed the first opening act (Specimens), but managed
to catch all of Young Heart Attack. I admit to little prior knowledge of Young
Heart Attack, but was (all cliches aside) blown away. Maybe it was just the
enormity of the occasion that sucked me in, but this seemed like 40 minutes
of high adrenalin rock excitement.
The duelling male-female vocals (which kept reminding me of Meatloaf and Martha
Whatshername), and the Choreographed Rock Moves 101 performance from the lead
guitarist (everything from high kicks, to trading licks to throwing the guitar
in the air) kept me enthralled. We were left with a montage of Peter Frampton
mixed with Robert Plant with a hint of an Ian Hunter wash, playing against
Debbie Harry tinged with Sharon O'Neill. I would like to have seen a full
show, but alas was unable to see them during the rest of their Melbourne visit.
That all said, some other people I spoke (whose appreciation of rock'n'roll
is without question) dismissed the set as "too much of the one thing".
So take your pick.
MC3/5 came on around 11.30pm, with little fanfare (in my most paranoid moments,
I'd wondered if they'd try and recruit a 21st century JC Crawford impersonator,
which would've destroyed the credibility of the show in a single moment),
before launching into Ramblin' Rose. This was a much more laid back, jazz
tinged version than the brutal live version. I will admit to being disappointed,
maybe 'cause I was expecting to be taken back to the Grande Ballroom in 1968.
But this wasn't a Fantasy Island sponsored reunion gig – it was a celebration
of the music.
Wayne Kramer looked miles away from the afro-ed Detroit hood of the late 1960s.
These days he could almost pass for the cop who busted him for drugs in the
1970s. But he was obviously happy to be here, and his pouting and posturing
showed he retains a sense of performance. Dennis Thompson's drumming still
fires like a Baghdad street battle, and his Detroit shop rat attitude permeates
the band's on-stage sound. On stage right, Deniz Tek – taking on the
unfamiliar role of rhythm guitarist – achieved nothing less than pristine
perfection (doing yet more justice to Fred Smith's aged Epiphone).
Michael Davis assumed vocal duties for "I Can Only Give You Everything",
still one of the definitive 1960s garage tracks (see the Pebbles version for
confirmation). Davis' voice was a bit strained, but the band (including his
own bass playing) carried it through. Anyone who's seen "A True Testimonial"
will testify to the significance of actually seeing Mike Davis play.
Mark Arm and Evan Dando then joined the band for "Sister Ann". This
is where the show took off. Arm is rarely spoken of in the same glorified
tones as Kurt Cobain, Frank Black or Thurston Moore. But he has such an understated,
unpretentious punk rock kool that he is a walk in entrant for the Punk Rock
Star Hall of Fame. His harmonica solo in "Sister Ann" drew roars
from the crowd, which were regularly repeated throughout the show.
Evan Dando's performances during the North American leg of the tour have been
roundly criticised. Maybe it's his love of Australia, but tonight he showed
none of that. From underneath his Prince Valiant haircut (allowing him to
read the carefully disguised lyric sheet), Dando's soft vocals perfectly suited
the more melodic tunes like "Shakin' Street" and "Teenage Lust".
Punctuated through the show was some great jazz augmentation from two young
guys in brown t-shirts. Maybe I was misty-eyed with excitement, but I could've
sworn the trumpet player was cloned from a teenage Rob Tyner.
The set list was taken from across the three albums. A personal highlight
was Mark Arm's chop, chop, chopping in "Human Being Lawnmower",
followed (closely) by Arm's crowd wander during "I Want You Right Now".
Kramer sauntered up to the microphone and invited us to "Kick Out the
Jams" (Mother Fucker), which we all duly did, with much exuberance.
For the first encore the band was joined by Marshall Crenshaw for covers of
Ray Charles' "I Believe to My Soul" and Sun Ra's cosmic flavoured
"Starship". The band returned for a second encore of Sonic Reducer
No.62 (with Kramer channelling Paul Stanley for an amusing audience round),
before finishing with American Ruse.
After the show many of us queued to buy live CDs of the show (which unfortunately
didn't include the second encore set), and then hung around longer to get
autographs. Compared to the angry young men of the 1960s, Davis, Thompson
and Kramer were pleasant, approachable and pleased to be on a journey of celebration,
not revolution. After tonight's show, it's clear there is plenty to celebrate.
1/2
