THE STOOGES
THE DICTATORS
SCOTT MORGAN'S POWERTRANE
AC/DC
BLUE ÖYSTER CULT
TELEVISION
THE SOUNDTRACK OF OUR LIVES
THE DRONES
TURBONEGRO
Various venues
March-April 2003

WORDS: Geoff Ginsberg
STOOGES PICTURES: Peter Whitfield

March and April were so loaded with iconic, I-94 Bar legends that I thought I’d write up a little
report from the road for y’all. I was in a new house, in a great new neighborhood and I suddenly
found myself inspired to get out and hear some music. The winter had been completely dead here (Philadelphia) as far as live music went and I was the Chairman of the BORED.

I knew that Scott Morgan’s Powertrane was playing in Cleveland, and although I love going to shows in Cleveland (it really does ROCK, and one of my closest friends - Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Museum Curator Howard Kramer lives there) I hadn’t seriously considered going. It’s about a seven-hour drive from Philly. On the other hand I had been smoking relative shit for months after I had left a bag of outrago-bud in Ann Arbor my last time there (like an idiot). If I went to Cleveland I could not only hear my fave current band, but be reunited with my bag as well! Now we are talking motivation!!

So I cruised out to Clevo a day early to hang with Mr. Kramer who would not be able to make the show, due to an influx of out-of-town relatives and the fact that he was leaving early Sunday for NYC where the Rock Hall would be inducting their latest batch of musos the following day. (This year’s crowd actually included AC/DC, The Clash, Police, and some other worthwhile stuff.) The next day it was off to an in-store meet-and-greet at the very cool My Mind’s Eye Records. Some people came down and they were really into it - getting their Scott Morgan shit signed, hanging out and chatting etc. I even sold some Real O Mind stuff and found a way cool Alice Cooper T-shirt (cover of "Be My Lover" single).

Then it was the gig at the Beachland Ballroom. This was in the "pub" room as opposed to the big ballroom. After several very loud bands (when the band’s called "Amps II Eleven" what did I expect?) my boys came on and opened with the brand new, "Chilly Willy Is Missing." Crunching riffs filled the room and we were off to the races. They played plenty of hits: "RIP R&R" "Love & Learn" "Runaway Slaves" "Sweet Nuthin’" as well as a few more newies: Box Taylor’s "Aint No Time," "Beyond The Sound" - a Morgan/Nick Royale co-write, and "Interflight Head Royale" a little ditty about, well, the Mile-High Club penned by ace guitar slinger Robert Gillespie and Rob Tyner from the 5.

The band was completely ON. Andy Frost pounded furiously, Gillespie was loud as shit and right on the money (no surprise there - this guy rips) and Box was holding it all down, in spite of the fact that we couldn’t find his trademark bubblegum anywhere. "NO I DON’T WANT JUICY FRUIT YOU IDIOT!" could be heard coming from inside the mini market. Oh well, we had a gig to get to and trooper that he is Box did the gig without bubblegum - a real man. Morgan? What can you say. He sings so effortlessly and plays such phat rhythm - it’s always a thrill to see him in action. This band is absolutely lethal. After finishing with, what else, "City Slang," it was back to the hotel and my old friend the bag of good weed.

The next morning (Sunday) we were going to meet up at Bob Evans but everyone got lost, the wait was endless (with Christians rampantly eating bad food following their brainwashing session), and I had a day of driving in front of me so I hit the road. It was a VERY pleasant ride home.

On Monday I was looking at Pollstar and somehow stumbled onto the fact that AC/DC was doing a club gig in NYC the following night at the Roseland Ballroom. Surely it was already sold out. After all, we’re talking AfuckinC, DfuckinC!!! How could I swing this? Of course!!! Howard was in NYC for the induction. I would have called him right then and there but it was literally the middle of the ceremony so I figured that wasn’t the best time to beg for a favor. First thing Tuesday morning I called his cell: "AC/DC’s playing tonight at the Roseland - how do I get tickets??!!??"

"Call me back in half an hour," he said. I did just that and he had two tickets in his hand when I did! Fuckin’ A!! I boogied up to NYC, parked on the West Side and walked cross-town to Kramer’s hotel. I was riding on air. (I must have good AC/DC karma since on the last tour I had a similar stroke of luck - Dave Champion called me on a Sunday night as I was about to settle into a night of TV with my mom telling me to get my ass down to South Philly as he and his GF had front row seats and backstage passes for AC/DC. We saw a killer show, met the band, got photo’d with all of them etc.)

The Roseland ticket said you had to be there by a certain time (8, I think) or they would not let you in. We got there in time. We suffered through the awful Vendetta Red. This band will be big - mark my words, they have it all: young, handsome, dynamic on stage and absolutely horrible music. The whole package.

Then it was DC time. When they opened with "Hell Aint A Bad Place To be," I was levitating. The were soooo fucking tight, and no nonsense. Plus, it sounded perfect. Loud and Proud. They didn’t bring all the gear - this was a club show. If you like the Powerage album this was the show for you as they broke out "R & R Damnation" "What’s Next To The Moon" and "Gone Shootin’," which was my highlight of the night. Also stunning was "If You Want Blood." Beyond that they did the hits. All of ‘em. The song "Stiff Upper Lip" was unbelievably great also and I was singing it for days afterwards. Great album too that "Stiff Upper..."

Everyone there either won tickets or was invited so the vibe was unreal. Everyone felt so lucky to be seeing and hearing this you could feel the joy - it was palpable. We followed the show with a trip to the Carnegie Deli, by far the world’s best, and a glutenous late night feast. All I remember about driving home was my ear to ear grin.

I was aware the amazing Blue Oyster Cult were doing gigs in the area later that week. They were playing in Harrisburg, PA that Thursday and Trenton, NJ (which is a little closer) that Friday. I resolved that if I could muster the energy I would do both. I knew nobody would go to H’burg with me so I went myself.

I learned a long time ago never to miss BOC if you could avoid it and never go see another band over them. They are ALWAYS great. Some nights they are better than great. I decided to bring my recorder with me since I collect live BOC stuff, and although it’s a pain in the ass, I knew I’d be glad after it was over and I could catch all the Cult subtleties in the comfort of my own living room.

As I was entering the club I noticed that they were not only frisking people, but "wanding" them as well. I had a fucking tape recorder in my pants! I was fucked!! What should I do? Go out to the car now and get rid of it? It was too late - they had torn my ticket. So I waited my turn, shitting bricks all the while. When it got to me the guy starts frisking me: "Do you have any knives?" No. "Do you have any guns?" No. Then he wanded me and....I was in!!!! I had passed the metal detector!!!! I was a happy Jew.

BOC has always had a healthy respect for their catalog and even in the darkest times (they went 10 years without a record deal) never became an oldies act. They always surprise me with something. Last year it had been Allen Lanier playing the killer solo in "Last Days Of May." They opened the show with "Dr. Music" maybe the stupidest song in their entire catalog. Why they have chosen to open with this (sometimes) over the years I have never figured out. I’ve looked for subtleties in the lyrics and concluded that sometimes dumb is just dumb. R. Meltzer - this is NOT your best song! Anyway, from there it was onto "Before The Kiss," now we were talking! It was a very esoteric set, with less stuff from the first three LP’s than usual. Normally that would be a problem for me, but I was glad to hear the obscurities they were pulling out, such as "Tattoo Vampire" and "Divine Wind."

There is a slot in the show that almost always goes to "Last Days" or "Astronomy." For these shows they broke out "Shooting Shark," a Patti Smith co-write that was way after the fact when it was recorded, but was now back in the set. As always they finished up with "Burnin’ For You" "Godzilla" and "Don’t Fear The Reaper." They encored with another obscurity, "Black Blade."

The next night in Trenton would be the first time I had ever seen the Oyster Boys gig back to back. Did they really change it around from night to night like they claim? Answer: Yes. They shifted a couple of songs out and a couple in. For example, they did "Teen Archer" in place of "Before The Kiss," and a beautiful version of "I Love The Night" in place of the totally obscure "Perfect Water." For the encore they did "Buck’s Boogie" and "Dominance & Submission," the song Radio Birdman got the title Radios Appear from.

Towards the end of "Reaper" I checked my recorder to make sure it was getting the searing solos Buck was laying on me. Just as I checked this bald white guy with a yellow shirt and a flashlight was right on top of me looking at my gear. I was...BUSTED. I started bumming heavily. "Is that a camera" he asked. I just kind of grunted and hoped he’d disappear. It wasn’t to be. "IS THAT A CAMERA!" he demanded. No, I replied. He looked at me like I was completely full of shit. "Let me see it!" Oh great, I thought, and took out the recorder. There it was, bright green light on, meters registering, clock ticking, microphone attached. He stared at it for what seemed like an eternity. "OK" he said and walked away. What a fucking maroon!!! I had survived.

Meanwhile, early the next week I get a call from the Cosmic Commander. Melbourne’s Drones are s’posed to be playing at the Khyber Pass (Philly’s long running real rock room), but the club had been shut down by the city’s Licences and Inspections Bureau in a post-Great White attempt to look like they were doing something. In fact it was really just another opportunity to shake down club owners. The folks who run the Khyber were at the SXSW conference so they didn’t get the sitch straightened out right away.

When Cosmo called me he was trying to find out if the club would be re-opened in time for the show, if not where could they play etc. He also had to pick the band up at the airport and take care of his little tike. He was having a pretty intense day! So it turned out the club did not reopen and Cosmo got them an early slot at another bar, where at least the faithful could get to see them play and the band could relax with a few beers. They wound up being very good. I had heard comparisons to the Birthday Party, who I personally cannot stand, so I was a little dubious going in. In reality they were more reminiscent of the mid-‘80's vintage Scientists and they did a killer version of the Cramps’ "New Kinda Kick." There were only a few people there, but we all enjoyed it immensely.

I was planning on seeing the first "Montrose" show since the ‘70's that weekend, but Ronnie Montrose turned out to be a pussy who was afraid to get on a plane due to Bush’s war and possible terrorist repercussions. Gimme a fucking break! What a coward. You might as well never take another shower since the odds are MUCH higher of slipping and killing yourself than a terror strike on your plane. (Dave Alvin cancelled his shows that weekend as well).

The good news was that Soundtrack of Our Lives was playing in town that night. I had missed their sold out show at the Khyber a couple of months previously. Don’t laugh, but I had never even heard them before. I had been given a cdr of some stuff but hadn’t played it. All I really knew was that they were nothing like Union Carbide Productions, their old band. Man, this band was good, and unusual. It was so nice to hear something different AND good. Plus, there were a lot of young people there - very rare for good music. And chicks seemed to really dig it, in spite of the lead singers huge beer gut. This was all very encouraging! They were in a pretty big room and didn’t come close to filling it, but they played like crazy anyway. The tunes were memorable and I resolved to hear more of their shit in the future.

The next night was Television’s first Philly gig in over 10 years. I had seen them in NYC last year so I knew just how amazing this was going to be. Television is one of those bands that you have to see live to "get." The records just don’t do them justice. Especially the third LP (the white album), which is pretty much of a complete waste. Live the songs hold up with their classic material, however. Television and BOC have a lot of similarities actually. Within their separate genres they are light years more complex and heady than their peers, combinations of perfectly interlocking parts. Richard Lloyd is such an amazing guitarist and he really does save his best playing for Television. Verlaine plays the tasteful parts and then Richard rips up the fretboard. It’s a good arrangement. They played lots of old stuff, including "See No Evil" "Venus" "Prove It" "Marquee Moon" and "Little Johnny Jewel." The encore of "Glory" and a Richard Hell-esque reading of "Psychotic Reaction" sent all smart people smiling into the night. It was a winner, all agreed (except a few idiots).

Hard to believe, but there’s more. Turbonegro was invading Philly a few days later. I actually got my mom to go over and pick up a ticket for someone from out of town. Can you imagine the humiliation for a grown woman - a senior citizen no less - to ask for a TN ticket?? She got the last one, literally. What surprised me most about the show, besides just how good they really were (and they were!), was the almost AC/DC like devotion of the crowd. Certainly these people had listened to this music thousands of times. The band never had to ask anyone to sing along, everyone did automatically. The singer was decked out in early Alice Cooper make-up with a top hat and a cane! Not too derivative!! One of the guys looked like Deep Purple’s Roger Glover. Was it deliberate?? I have no fucking idea. It was a great night, lots of out-of-towners visiting and much debauchery. Highlights (for me) were "Don’t Say Motherfucker, Motherfucker" and "I’ve Got Erection." Due to the post-Great White tragedy there were no indoor fireworks at this show which, frankly, was fine with me. Men inserting things into their rectums is not really my idea of entertainment anyway.

The Dictators have just come out of Handsome Dick’s paternity leave and are gigging again. They did a little show at the Court Tavern in New Jersey a few weeks ago. I went up with a couple of friends and we prepared for the cigarette smoke capital of Jersey. The Dictators are now a four-piece due to Top 10 moving out west, but they can handle it. After all, Ross IS the Boss. They basically had a new show worked up, which was great. They opened up with "Young, Fast & Scientific," which was very appropriate for the Jewish holidays. Also in the set were "Speedball" "I Want You Tonight" "Cars & Girls" (!!!!!) and on the encore fucking "Teengenerate!!" I had never even heard OF a live version of that and I was please as punch to hear it. But the big one was still coming up.

A couple of weeks earlier I was talking to my man Cosmo and he mentioned the upcoming Stooges reunion in the California desert. I hadn’t seriously considered going since I just don’t go to those kind of shows (a Lollapalooza/Big Day Out type of affair) and neither had he. Now Cosmo and I always enjoyed traveling together and we resolved on the spot to look into plane fares and see if it was do-able. Next thing you know, he’s got flights, a hotel and a car. I got the concert tix. After making sure there was no secret warmup show we arrived the night before the big gig.

We got out to the desert and I gotta tell ya - there was a fuckload of people there. We made a move before the White Stripes came on. We were pretty far away and the ol’ end around (going around the side of the crowd to the front and then working your way in) didn’t seem possible since I couldn’t see the sides of the crowd - it went out that far. When the Stripes finished (not bad, but ultimately disappointing due to the thinness of a two-person band) we ran what in American Football is known as the draw play. We hesitated for a few seconds as some people made their way out of the crowd. Then we just went right straight up the middle. And damn if we didn’t gain serious yardage! Now we were set. We could see, and the sound would be crushing.

I’m not sure how to describe seeing the Stooges to you. What I can say is: It met expectations.

It was pure bliss. It was like I’d seen them 500 times already. No surprises. It just sounded like the
Stooges. Nothing else. They opened with "Loose," and as Scott Asheton played the fills at the beginning of the song I thought I’d lose it. Iggy wasted no time in getting up on Mike Watt’s amps and humping for all he was worth. His growls, screams, and groans were perfect! And his singing was even better.

Ron played better than I have ever heard him - and that is saying a lot! His guitar and Iggy’s voice just go together like chocolate and well, peanut butter. When the Ig was doing his Real O Mind rambling in "Down On The Street" I was ecstatic. I noticed that Watt was wearing a Dave Alexander T-shirt - how fucking cool is that? And he played the bass he hadn’t used since the Minutemen days. This was SERIOUS!

When they started "Dirt" it wasn’t quite on the one so
Iggy stopped it and had the band start again. What followed was one of the most sublimely perfect things I have ever heard in my life. They were not doing note-for-note versions, but the SOUND was Funhouse to a T. It was obviously the Stooges. It couldn’t be anything else. During "No Fun" when Iggy exhorted "come on Ron and tell ‘em how I feel!" - Ron did. Only he could.

Watching the Ig and Ron together was overwhelming. As he started pounding away on "1970" there was a moment of realization - this is the best and most inventive rock drumming ever on any song. Rock Action made this shit up. It’s no accident that he’s been in two of the 10 best rock bands ever (Sonic’s Rendezvous Band being the other). Sure he was a little tentative, but hell, it’s like his
fourth gig of the millennium!! Then I hear Iggy screaming "blow, Steve, blow." It couldn’t be....it was. Steve Fucking MacKay wailing out on tenor sax. I almost shit myself. They closed with "Funhouse" definitely the highlight among highlights. The whole band was on fire - let it last forever, I thought. And then it was over.

I will go to a lot more rock and roll shows in my life, of that there is no doubt. But after the Stooges, I don’t ever NEED to see another show. I have seen it all folks. Word is that they will play festivals in Europe this summer. If you are one of those people (like me) who doesn’t go to "those kind of shows" all I can say is make an exception. You’ll be glad you did.

Geoff Ginsberg is the head of Real O Mind Records and you can visit them here.

The Stooges, post-gig, with saxophonist Steve Mackay.

(and the rest!)

BACK TO THE BAR

BACK TO THE REVIEWS PORTAL