Led Zeppelin is having its own "Celebration" in The Rock and Roll Summer Classic Auction. "Over the years we have been fortunate to offer high-end Led Zeppelin collectibles and we are excited to once again have a most unique offering of fantastic memorabilia mementos", comments Backstage Auctions owner Jacques van Gool. "Led Zeppelin is one of the most collectible bands in the world and their fans are exceptionally loyal - and knowledgeable. All this makes for a great event and we couldn't be more pleased to be part of it".
The undisputed Crown Jewel of the auction is a John Bonham owned and worn hat (ca. 1976 - 1977), which came directly from the Bonham estate and includes unquestionably provenance. Any authentic John Bonham collectible demands attention but this will make you sit straight up!
Another piece that could easily become the highlight of anyone's Led Zeppelin collection is this original RIAA re-issued hologram award, issued to Robert Plant.
Those looking for something vintage and truly one-of-a-kind need not to look any further. The auction includes the only known to exist 1973 Tuscaloosa concert t-shirt, which was printed by the student body of the University of Alabama...and subsequently confiscated by Peter Grant and his amigos. That is for this one remaining shirt!
Other desirable collectibles are autographed CDs by Robert Plant and John Paul Jones, unique promotional items that include a tour crew jacket, the infamous gray blimp, as well as the 20th anniversary release of 'Stairway to Heaven'.
Special attention should be given to the many lots of vintage vinyl, promotional CDs and unique radio broadcast and live records and CDs. Each and any of these lots provide a fantastic opportunity to scoop up a sizeable chunk of Led Zeppelin audio that would otherwise take years to pull together.
Because there is so much to see and digest, the auction will start with a preview week, beginning Saturday August 31. The auction will start Saturday, September 7 and will end Sunday September 15.
For more information about the auction, please visit Backstage Auctions and register for your free VIP All Access Pass.
Backstage Auctions
is a boutique online auction house specializing in
authentic rock memorabilia representing a long list of notable and very
talented musicians, producers and managers in the music industry since
2003. Exclusive online auction events have featured the private
collections of
legendary producer Eddie
Kramer (Hendrix,
Zeppelin,
Kiss) and since then, we have represented Scott Ian &
Charlie Benante (Anthrax), Page Hamilton (Helmet),
John Tempesta (Exodus, Testament, The Cult), John 5
(Zombie, Marilyn Manson), Ted
Nugent, Howard Kaylan (The
Turtles), Ross Valory
(Journey) and Michael Shrieve
(Santana), Rudy Sarzo
(Quiet
Riot, White Snake), Graham
Bonnet
(Rainbow, Alcatrazz), Al
Jourgensen
(Ministry), Johny Barbata
(Jefferson Starship), Kip Winger
(Winger) as well as managers of
legendary bands such as The
Grateful
Dead, Jefferson Airplane,
KISS, Journey, Joe Walsh, Ringo Starr and His All Starr Band,Motley Crue, Pantera, White
Zombie and more. Backstage
Auctions works closely with each of their clients and incorporates their
personal stories and memories throughout the online auction event. The
end result is a unique, historical and unforgettable journey spanning
decades of music history.
Jon Oliva makes a grand entrance on Raise the Curtain. Out of the shadowy wings of the stage he steps,
drinking in the triumphant, twirling synthesizers and well-sculpted guitar lines
of a grandiose title track that could introduce royalty at some gala event.
In
a voice as radiant and angelic as Jon Anderson’s, the Savatage co-founder and
vocal wizard demands the crushed velvet drapes be pulled aside so the drama can
begin. Somebody’s been listening to Yes, the Rick Wakeman era in particular.
Oliva’s solo debut, Raise
the Curtain is a great experiment, a wildly diverse progressive-metal epic
that combines all of Oliva’s musical tastes in one extravagant movable feast, where the keyboards are as prominent as guitars and Oliva's theatrical indulgences are properly sated.
On the menu is a generous helping of ‘70s prog, heaving surges of power metal
and flourishes of jazz – the colorful and ebullient “Ten Years,” with its
full-throated horns, being most reminiscent of the Broadway-style arrangements
found on Savatage’s transformative fifth album Gutter Ballet.
Some of the most compelling material on Raise the Curtain also happens to be the heaviest stuff, such as
“Soul Chaser” and “Big Brother.” The bass lines in both are remarkably strong
and thick, circling around and around with sinister intent as driving guitar
grooves push the action forward. An evil carnival of apocalyptic images,
doom-laden sounds and crazily spinning instrumentation, “Armageddon” is by
turns majestic and hellish, but “Soldier” is an affecting, melodic ballad,
fleshed out with heartrending flute and piano, that sympathizes with a warrior
finding it difficult to return to normal life. “Can’t Get Away” is similarly
cast, but a little bluesy and more wistful, a modest cut with subtle charms.
Delighting in subverting audiences’ expectations with
completely unexpected twists and turns, Oliva and crew – including Jon Oliva’s
Pain drummer Chris Kinder – pull off a bait-and-switch on “Stalker,” as the
mellifluous intro gives way to thorny, menacing verses that hack their way
through incredibly intricate guitar work. And it continues to go off into
different directions, once again becoming a wonderful flow of keyboards and
six-string magic. Somewhat more Gothic, “The Witch” embarks in a similar
journey, going down strange and wonderful paths and then running off into dense
sonic thickets before emerging in bright, expansive clearings.
Composed and created with the help of friend Dan Fasciano
and born of his still lingering sadness over the death of Jon Oliva’s Pain
guitarist Matt LaPorte in 2011, Raise the
Curtain also purges the vault of Criss Oliva’s final writings. Although it
comes off as unnecessarily fussy and overblown on occasion, the album’s sheer bombast
is awe-inspiring, even brilliant. Amid the prog pageantry are powerhouse riffs and
forceful, evocative vocals that ground these shape-shifting works. Take a bow,
Jon Oliva.http://www.afm-records.de/
Nobody’s found the switch yet to turn out the lights on Pat Travers. Approaching age 60, he can still coax beautiful melodies and
electrifying power from an amplified guitar and get it to speak fluently in
multiple tongues, such as powerhouse hard rock, hot funk and cool soul grooves,
smoky blues and emotional balladry.
His conversations are simple and heartfelt
these days, like those conducted in a dark, lonely tavern between two used-up
people who don’t have the heart to lie anymore. Here’s one more for the road.
Lively, gritty and at times stylish, with spotless
production, Can Do findsthe Pat
Travers Band talking in simple languages everybody from the hopeless romantic to the working-class slob can understand, setting
hooks that have a firm grip and an easy logic. The latest studio album from the
Toronto-born guitar slinger is by turns thoughtful and reflective, as the
glassy serenity and breezy warmth of “Diamond Girl” and the wistful “Wanted
(That was Then/This is Now)” so effectively illustrate, and vigorously defiant,
shaking his fist at Father Time in rugged, driving rockers like “Stand Up/Give
It Up,” “Armed and Dangerous” and “Long Time Gone,” a nod to Mountain’s
“Mississippi Queen” where his clearly defined guitars are searing.
Nowhere near as explosive or as sweaty as the classic Live! Go for What You Know concert LP
and somewhat reserved in parts, Can Do
is still mostly a spirited romp through Travers’ past and present
circumstances, as the feverish title track surges and smolders in the heat of a
summer night and the sparkling “As Long As I’m With You” unabashedly wallows in
the joys of a real, warts-and-all love. Reinvigorated by his new relationship
with Frontiers Records, Travers brings together a band of brothers that
includes bassist Rodney O’Quinn, second guitarist Kirk McKim and the prodigal
drummer Sandy Gennaro on drums, and they serve the songs well.
It’s a tight unit that’s in perfect sync with Travers’ many
moods, weaving wonderful harmonics together in lovely figures when the occasion
calls for it and then shifting into riff-heavy rock ‘n’ roll overdrive on
Travers’ command, sliding comfortably into the utterly infectious blues grooves of “Dust
& Bone,” a delicious bite of tasty blues-rock Aerosmith would have given up
heroin for in the ‘80s, and allowing the melodic movements of “Waitin’ on the
End of Time” to breathe.
Want to hear Travers stretch out and really show the kind of
diversity and creativity he’s capable of? The beguiling instrumental “Keep Calm
and Carry On” explores every facet of his skillful, classy playing, displaying a deft touch, cleverly executed maneuvers and a nice warm feel that are as apparent in the quieter, softer moments as they are when volcanic eruptions explode from his instrument. Is slide guitar your thing? He can
reel off steely licks in his sleep. And if you want this Canadian to channel
Lynyrd Skynard and fry up some high-energy Southern rock, there’s the boisterous “Red Neck
Boogie” to scratch that itch. The charms of Can
Do will bloom, just not right away. Wait for it. Your patience will be
rewarded. http://www.frontiers.it/
Sentencing standards sometimes vary wildly from state to
state, but it’s hard to imagine anybody getting 14 years in the hoosegow just
for disturbing the peace.
That’s what the whisky-guzzling, drag-racing,
cop-baiting subject of “The Ballad of Johnny Rod,” a smoldering, swaggering
chunk of Great White-style boogie-rock off King Kobra’s latest meal of meat-and-potatoes, working-class heavy metal, gets for raising a little
hell. The judge should brace himself to be overturned on appeal.
Evidently, Johnny Rod, who also happens to be the band’s
bassist, was given work-release privileges to rumble and roll through King Kobra II, the second LP released by
King Kobra since the hard-nosed ‘80s metal underdogs reunited for their 2011 self-titled
barroom brawler. Carmine Appice, King Kobra’s founder, had a hand in producing
the new record; so did powerhouse vocalist Paul Shortino, the only non-original
member now in King Kobra, having replaced singer Mark Free – now Marcie Free,
after dealing with her gender dysphoria and coming out as a woman. And while
modern recording technology was almost certainly used in bringing King Kobra II to life, the album feels
as if it was not made for these dull times.
A throwback to the ‘70s hard rock of Deep Purple and
Montrose, it’s got guts and integrity, with a blue-collar work ethic – courtesy
of Shortino’s sweaty soulfulness and gritty rasp – and a thirst for raw,
dangerous excitement, the kind that’s probably illegal and found only in the
bad part of town. Appice’s drumming is purposeful, clever and propulsive,
driving forward the chugging, locomotive opener “Hell on Wheels” with a
steam-powered pace, before strutting with all the painted confidence of a burlesque
queen through “Have a Good Time” and breaking rock like a chain gang on “When
the Hammer Comes Down” as the circling guitars of Mick Sweda and David Michael-Philips
crack the whip.
Toughening up their melodies, with six-string riffs and leads that sting like
alcohol poured into a bullet wound, King Kobra comes out swinging on “Knock Them Dead” and
“Running Wild” – the reference to a “raging bull” in the
latter track a particularly apt image. When they want to dance, they grab girls
of loose morals and do a little bump-and-grind in “The Crunch,” with its
down-and-dirty guitar boogie, but underneath that stained, sleeveless
denim-clad sound beats a vulnerable heart, broken to pieces in the
regret-filled “Got It Coming.” In desperate need of repentance, King Kobra
trudges down to “Deep River,” a mesmerizing, crunching Zeppelin-like epic, to
wash away its sins with gospel background singers and climbing guitars that
sear one’s conscience like guilt.
That’s as ambitious as King Kobra gets on the
straightforward II, a sturdy, if unspectacular
set of tracks as burned-out as the most desolate parts of Detroit. A dimly lit corner bar of a record sound-wise, it’s riddled with metal clichés, devoid of real
imagination and yet it is built on solid, though somewhat bland, songwriting ground. And the performances are tight, welding together strong hooks that have a firm grip, like a steelworker’s handshake.
Too
often, though, the choruses are ineffectual and uncertain, although that’s not
the case in the well-constructed closer “We Go Round,” a fully formed pop-metal
diamond that sparkles in the right light.
II may sound like a bunch of old friends getting together to relive the
glory days and bang it out in the garage, but there’s a certain amount of charm
to that. A round of applause then for King Kobra, a band who refuses to bow to
what’s trendy and keeps on doing what feels good. http://www.frontiers.it/
There’s a special place in Valhalla reserved for AmonAmarth. Brandishing guitars like gleaming, freshly sharpened blades, the Swedish death-metal war party and Iron Maiden descendants have earned it with an admirable body of brutally
heavy wet work. Obsessed with Norse mythology, Amon Amarth is known for drawing scenes of bloody battles
forgotten by history and paying tribute to courage in close combat on rough terrain
strewn with stinking, decomposing corpses. Gird your loins once again, because the relentless Deceiver of the Gods has come to pillage
and plunder with songs armed to the teeth with beast-like riffage, hell-spawned vocals and strong, dynamic melodies forged in steel that survive massive storms of transfixing sound and fury. The squishy,
gurgling noises of a man bleeding out and breathing his last after being
stabbed is heard right before the rampaging “Blood Eagle” storms whatever
territory it is that Amon Amarth must take by force, and it is sobering. A revenge
song, replete with the ghoulish moaning of Viking ghosts, “Blood Eagle” is
typical of Deceiver of the Gods, thick and intense, but always serving its conflicted masters of shifting,
tightly wound harmonies and immense power surges.
Nothing on Deceiver
of the Gods has the massive tonnage of “Hel,” a death march that slogs through mud and
gore to find the glory of war, if there is such a thing. Immersed in
traditional metal and doom elements, “Hel” is a black mix of different vocal
textures, comprised of Johan Hegg’s usual hoary growl, deathly background
wailing and the operatic histrionics of Candlemass guest singer Messiah Marcolin, who sounds
like Bruce Dickinson’s evil twin. Those thick, burly guitars
that smash “Hel” into kindling also crush “We Shall Destroy,” and they come in mammoth waves. But it’s the
melodic spirals of guitars that lift the soul of that track above the instrumental
chaos and violence on the song’s terra firma that really astound, as they do on
the pummeling closer “Warriors of the North” and the punishing, explosive “Shape
Shifter.”
Known for his ability to heighten the impact and sonic
aggression flooding out of his client’s amplifiers, producer Andy Sneap increases the voltage of Amon
Amarth on Deceiver of the Gods. Electricity courses through the veins of these tracks, riding old-school power chords into the night. Their
grooves are somehow even more muscular than ever on the turbo-charged “Father of the Wolf” and
the title track’s furious thrashing, and the melodic parts – see the intro to
the fast progressive-metal maze “As Loke Falls” – are assertive and magical,
almost spellbinding at times.
The devilishly playful Norse god Loke inhabits this
indomitable fortress of metal, and Amon Amarth only encourages him, following
his melodic whims and destructive tendencies. Similar in character to
previous releases, Deceiver of the Gods
finds Amon Amarth sticking to a formula that works for them, adding power and definition to every unexpected, expertly executed maneuver and rich tonality to their remorseless attack. This is a well-plotted battle plan, the likes of which Rommel might have conceived. Whatever game of thrones Amon Amarth is playing, they are winning. http://www.metalblade.com/us/
Laura Wilde is touring with Ted Nugent
and recording an LP in 2013
Winning over a crowd that’s come
to see Ted Nugent is no mean feat. By sheer force of will, Aussie spitfire
Laura Wilde and her band of sleazy, glammed-out rock ‘n’ roll outlaws did it, and she was asked
back.
Wilde may not be a household name
in the States, but she’s quickly gaining the kind of bad – that’s “bad” as in
really, really good – reputation that Joan Jett has cultivated over years and years
of musical rebellion. At 23, she’s already opened for the likes of Shinedown
and Fuel, and when she was only 19, she moved to Los Angeles and recorded her
debut album, Sold My Soul, a platter released by the Vice Grip Music Group that had a swagger and an attitude that older artists would give their eye
teeth to get back.
A native of Melbourne, Australia,
Wilde was a presenter for the Down Under TV show “Beat TV” and played in the “Australia’s
Got Talent” house band, but she needed to spread her wings. Her desire to be a
serious songwriter and performer was too strong to resist.
Influenced by the likes of Jimmy
Page, Jimi Hendrix and Suzi Quatro, Wilde is looking forward to getting back in
the studio later this year to create the follow-up to Sold My Soul. And there are plans for her to write a song with none
other than Black Sabbath bassist Geezer Butler.
So get ready world. Wilde, chosen in 2012 as one of the “25 Hottest Chicks in Hard Rock” by Revolver magazine, may
look all sweet and innocent, but she plays a mean guitar and those who
underestimate her do so at their own peril. Wilde talked about her background,
touring with Nugent and her plans for world domination in this recent
interview.
The rest of 2013 promises to be pretty
exciting for you, what with you planning on recording the follow-up to Sold My Soul and touring again with Ted
Nugent. Are you where you thought you’d be in your music career by age 23?
Laura Wilde: I feel very grateful for the opportunities that I have had so far in this musical journey. I am so privileged to have been able to release my debut record last year and do three national tours opening for such amazing artists.
Where are you at in the process of making the
next LP? Can you give us some idea of what it will sound like?
LW: I'm still in the writing phase of the next LP, continuing to add to the pool of material to select from. With the next record I'll be drawing more from my older influences but still keeping the punk-rock 'n' roll-glam fusion.
You’re going to be writing a song with Black
Sabbath’s Geezer Butler. How did the idea for this collaboration come about?
What excites you most about working with Geezer? LW: I have been a huge fan of Black Sabbath for as long as I can remember. Their material is legendary and has stood the test of time. It's such an honor that he would consider collaborating with me.
When did you know you were going to be a
songwriter? Does the process come easy for you or is it a struggle in some
ways? LW: I have been writing songs since I was about 8 or 9 years old; they weren't exactly fabulous, but I have always used the songwriting process as a creative outlet. I find that some songs can pretty much write themselves if you're really in the zone, but otherwise, it can be a struggle. For me, it's best to just let the process flow naturally and come back to something later if you get stuck.
Listening to the song “Sold My Soul,” you
seem to have fallen in love with America. You moved to this country when you
were 19. What was that experience like, and how did it influence that song? LW: It was so freaky leaving for the airport and pondering the fact that I had a one-way ticket to Los Angeles and would be over there indefinitely. I was so excited to be moving over to the United States; however, nothing can really adequately prepare you to leave behind your family and friends. "Sold My Soul" was written in that euphoric state that I was in after moving to America and mentions all of the places that i wanted to visit whilst on tour.
Being from Australia, what do you think of
the rock ‘n’ roll scene in this country, as opposed to your homeland? LW: The Australian pub culture brings along certain elements of a rough-and-tumble camaraderie that is very conducive to writing rock music. Australia has given birth to rock 'n' roll greats such as AC/DC, Jet, Wolfmother, Silverchair and INXS. America has a different history and different influences entirely. Also, America has a far greater population and therefore a greater mix of different genres.
Australia has such a fascinating musical
history, but it’s one that’s always been a bit of mystery to Americans it
seems. If there’s one thing U.S. audiences should know about Australian rock
‘n’ roll, what do you think that is? Do you feel any kind of responsibility to
open doors for other Aussie acts in the States? LW: Australia, over a long period of time, has amassed a cultural fusion from many different parts of the world. This, of course, applies to our music scene, too. Our rock 'n' roll has a certain sound that is inherited from many different influences. Our Australian rock 'n' roll forefathers certainly paved the road to international success for the rest of us, so there is naturally a responsibility to pay it forward to other Aussie artists.
You’ve toured with Shinedown and Fuel. What
did you learn from those experiences? LW: Being selected to open for Shinedown and tour with Fuel was such an honor, but with such incredible opportunities, the pressure is really on! It makes you really step up and work a lot harder to deliver a high standard if you are going to be sharing the stage with such industry greats.
What’s your favorite memory of touring with
Ted Nugent from the first tour? Is he at all different from the public persona
we’re used to seeing? LW: The best memory of touring with Ted Nugent last summer would have to be the Ohio Rib-Fest in Maumee. We were able to sample all of the delicious local food and the turnout for the show was huge! I think they counted about 15,000 people. Being able to perform to that sized crowd was the most amazingly surreal experience. Ted is a larger-than-life character who is passionate about music and has been a pleasure to work with. It has been an honor to share the stage with him.
How did the Nugent crowd receive your
material? LW: Initially, last year it took the first half of our set to win over Ted Nugent's audience. Usually, by the end of the show, everyone was getting into it and having a great time. This year we have had a far warmer reception from the start of the set, which has been a lot of fun!
Talk about the making of Sold My Soul. What was the toughest song to record and what song
most represents what you’re all about? LW: Sold My Soul was recorded over a four-year time period. The first song, "All Alone," was recorded in 2008, when I had just finished high school in Melbourne and the last track, "Sold My Soul,: was done in Los Angeles. The title track, I found, was the most challenging as I played all of the instruments and produced it myself. But overall I really enjoyed every step of the process, from writing the songs to recording demos to the production of the whole thing.
You’ve done some TV work, playing in the house band for “Australia’s Got Talent” and being a presenter on “Beat TV.” What did you enjoy about it, and ultimately, do they help turn people on to the kind of traditional rock ‘n’ roll that you love? LW: These opportunities were such a wonderful experience as I was able to stretch myself musically by playing a vast range of styles and having the chance to experiment with different sounds. It was great to be able to see the scene from a different perspective by interviewing other artists.
How did being included in Revolver magazine’s “Hottest Chicks of Hard Rock” 2012 affect your career? LW: Being selected to be in Revolver magazine's "25 Hottest Chicks in Hard Rock" was such an honor, especially when I saw the company I was in! It was very helpful in increasing the awareness about my music and the tour schedule at the time.
You’ve cited Jimmy Page, Slash, Hendrix and Suzy Quatro as some of your influences. What’s the best concert you’ve ever been to, and who do you wish you’d seen play live in their prime? LW: Dave Grohl's Sound City Players' concert was one of the best live shows that I've seen so far. It was the coming together of so many different legendary artists, everyone from Dave Grohl to Stevie Nicks to John Fogerty and many more. I would have loved to have seen Elvis in his prime. That would be an epic show! He remains the "King of Rock 'N' Roll."
What’s the plan beyond 2013? How do you
envision your career unfolding from here on out? LW: That's the funny thing about life ... it's all a big mystery! The current wish list is just to be able to expand on what we've done so far. To be able to write and release more music and perhaps even eventually tour internationally would be a dream!
CD Review: Whitesnake – Made in Britain/The World Record
Frontiers Records
All Access Review: A-
Whitesnake - Made in Britain/The World Record 2013
David Coverdale is not a man without a country. He calls two of them home. Always the charming
rascal, with lust in his heart, a bawdy sense of humor and the restless,
romantic heart of a drifter – the type of character he seems to identify with
the most – perpetually looking for true love, Coverdale is English through and
through, even if he now has dual citizenship in the United States. He probably
stills takes his tea in the afternoon.
Taken literally, the title to the new package of rousing live
recordings from pop-metal warhorse Whitesnake is self-explanatory. Undoubtedly
it refers to material culled from a massive 2011 tour that included nine sold-out U.K. shows and as many as 87
other concerts from around the globe for the boisterous, pulse-pounding Made in Britain/The World Record, but it
could just as well describe Coverdale the man – worldly, cultured and yet
clearly a product of his native environment.
Ever the likeable rogue, Coverdale is in his element on the
25-track, two-disc Made in Britain/The
World Record, singing with surprising clarity and as soulfully as ever –
especially on wistful, beautifully rendered versions of “Fare Thee Well” and a
softly acoustic “One of These Days,” the warm rasp in his voice dripping with
nostalgia and longing. Time hasn’t ravaged his voice one bit; it still rings
out clearly amid the bluster and charged electricity this Whitesnake outfit
brings to classics like “Fool for Your Loving,” “Bad Boys” and an exuberant,
testosterone-fueled “Slide it In” that practically reeks of cheap sex – just as
Coverdale intended.
Radioactive meltdowns occur as Whitesnake takes on Deep
Purple’s “Soldier of Fortune” and a satisfying medley of “Burn” and “Stormbringer”
to end the set, but they mean business when they grind away, like a desperate stripper
short on rent money, in “Lay down Your Love” and “Snake Dance.” Much like those
two STD-infested sonic brothels of pure bluesy nastiness, both of them sleazier
and more infectious than the originals, “Can You Hear the Wind Blow” certainly smolders
and “My Evil Ways” smokes, with mean, biting riffage courtesy of guitarists Reb
Beach and Doug Aldrich, whose slide guitar work in the intro to “My Evil Ways” has an edgy drawl
and sharp aspect to it.
Without their heaviness, their feel, their stylistic diversity, their vibrant tones and rich variety of orgasmic solos, Made in Britain/The World Record wouldn’t be nearly as vital or as fiery, and
when melody and harmonies are called for, as they are on “Here I Go Again,” “Love
Ain’t No Stranger,” “Is This Love” and “Give Me All Your Love,” Beach and
Aldrich play with style and taste, making their presence known but not in an
overbearing manner. The songs are allowed to breathe, as the six-string killers sneak around
stealthily under dark, spellbinding atmospheres, like that which envelopes parts
of “Still of the Night.” They make the epic arrangements of “Forevermore,” off
the 2011 album of the same name, soar, but without
the remarkably dynamic drumming of Brian Tichy, a definite star in the making, they would go nowhere.
A worthy and quick successor to Made in Japan, an equally dazzling, if not quite as expansive, Whitesnake
live album released earlier this year, Made
in Britain/The World Record will seduce and overpower longtime fans and new
converts alike with superb sound and indefatigable instrumental vigor. http://www.frontiers.it/
2011 was a horrible year for Japan, what with the tsunami
and all the death and destruction it wrought – not to mention the radiation
bleeding out from the Fukushima nuclear plant meltdown.
Months after the
tragedy, Aerosmith, putting fears for their own safety aside, touched down in
the small island nation, ready to bring the soothing balm of blues-fired,
rough-and-tumble rock ‘n’ roll evangelism to a wounded people in dire need of a
good time.
Aerosmith was not able to raise the dead on their “Back on
the Road” Japanese tour that fall, nor could they repair the massive damage and
trauma Japan suffered. They are not superheroes. They were, however, able to help out in their own small way. Doing what they do best,
Aerosmith played a series of raucous, high-energy live sets that made it seem
like 1977 – the first year they invaded Japan – was only yesterday, and their mission
of mercy is detailed in a lively new documentary titled “Rock for the Rising
Sun” that’s part life-affirming tour diary and part electrifying concert film.
The mood is celebratory and not at all subdued in barn-burning
performances of rollicking classics like “Mama Kin,” “Toys in the Attic,” “Rats
in the Cellar” and “Draw the Line.” Out front and as cheeky as ever, Steven
Tyler struts and preens about like the screaming gypsy he’s always been, his voice
full of swagger and hardly eroded by time, as Aerosmith confidently swings
around “Monkey on My Back,” snarls like junkyard dogs on “Sweet Emotion” and
takes a spirited, raunchy romp through “Walk This Way” as the thousands who
braved the cold and snow of Sapporo to see the band roar in appreciation.
Joe Perry tears through them all with reckless abandon, giving
fire-and-brimstone guitar sermons that could either save souls or send them
straight to hell. His playing is inspired and passionate, flashy and mean but also
full of substance and drive – see the captivating, almost hypnotic “Movin’ Out”
for proof of his wicked powers. And then there’s Brad Whitford, unassuming as ever,
working out deceptively tricky combinations of chords and notes in his own
quiet, yet lethal, manner on a funky “Last Child,” as Joey Kramer and Tom
Hamilton keep the rhythmic pot on a rolling boil throughout.
Director Casey Patrick Tebo deftly captures all the action with
fluid, flowing camera work and editing, compiling a warm, vivid love letter
from Aerosmith to a Japan the band fervently admires. His shots are beautifully
cropped, never too tight on the individual personalities of Aerosmith but
always close enough to see how they handle their instruments. And he rarely, if
ever, cuts away too quickly, preferring instead to let his lenses drink it all in before slipping away to the next subject.
While the live footage is exhilarating and vibrant, with
expansive, potent sound that ought to be tested for steroids, there is also a
great deal of humor, heart and drama in Tebo’s film. A sobering visit to the
Hiroshima Peace Memorial allows for moments of deep reflection. Tyler talks
respectfully about how Japanese audiences “hang on every word and note” that Aerosmith
dishes out and reveals how the song “Boogie Man” was created. And then there’s
the moment where Hamilton and Tyler spar over whether to leave “Hangman Jury”
in the set.
These behind-the-scenes vignettes offer a peek – and only a
peek – behind the Aerosmith curtain, giving a taste of what life on tour in
Japan is like for a band that isn’t getting any younger but still has an effervescent
personality that draws people to them. Osaka, Kanazawa, Fukuoka, Sapporo – Aerosmith
hit as many places as possible on this jaunt, and “Rock for the Rising Sun”
follows them everywhere, including a knife shop where Perry spends hours looking at collectible blades. It’s hard to shake the feeling, however, that the
filmmakers left a mountain of compelling material, both onstage and off, on the
cutting room floor in their zeal to tie the movie up in a neat, tidy package. A
trickle of bonus video showing Aerosmith barreling through “Lick and a Promise”
and “One Way Street” and a booklet of colorful concert photos and sparse liner
notes do not alleviate these concerns.
Understandably, Aerosmith is not as raw as they used to be, but
Tyler and the boys are still ballsy and exciting, even if their shows these
days are more glitzy spectacle than down-and-dirty barroom bashes. What they did
for Japan was a good thing, and “Rock for the Rising Sun” is a thrilling visual
scrapbook of their historic visit. (www.eaglerockent.com)
For those about to die in the most gruesome, horrific ways
imaginable, Exhumed salutes you. As gory as the busiest of abattoirs, records
from these grisly Bay Area grindcore ghouls take a backseat to no one when it comes to
painting revolting scenes of blood-splattered, dismembered corpses and how they
got that way.
The sicker the better for guitarist/vocalist Matt Harvey,
the lone original member of Exhumed left standing after more than 20 years of
lineup instability, and he appreciates the sacrifice of those who have shuffled
off this mortal coil in shockingly violent fashion. For without them, he’d have
nothing to sing about – well, except politics, that is. And relationships, societal
decay and economic distress … see there’s more going on with Exhumed than meets
the eye. Take Necrocracy, Exhumed’s
upcoming release for Relapse Records, for example.
Decomposing flesh and maimed bodies make for not-so-subtle
metaphors of a bloated U.S. political system being drawn and quartered by
corruption, greed and the erosion of civil rights in the punishingly heavy,
high-velocity death-metal of “The Rotting,” the title track and “Carrion Call.”
Or maybe Exhumed just enjoys a good lyrical blood feast now and then.
Whatever the case, Necrocracy
– due out in August – also happens to contain some of the meatiest riffage of
Exhumed’s tortured lifespan. Mauling, churning guitars, back-breaking tempo changes, frenzied
blast beats and cave-deep growls and feral screeching reanimate an Exhumed that still
looks to traditional thrash and death-metal misanthropes like Carcass and
Entombed as mentors of death-metal mayhem. Thatching together a multi-layered
bulletproof vest of overlapping, ever-evolving guitar parts and low-slung bass rumbling,
Exhumed mines an infectious, visceral groove in “Coins upon the Eyes” that’s
resistant to antibiotics, while “Dysmorphic” grinds flesh, tendons and bones
into hamburger with flesh-tearing hooks of great tensile strength, unstoppable
momentum and searing guitar leads – all of it bridged briefly with a rickety
acoustic passage of evil that portends doom.
There is melody to be found in the surprisingly
well-sculpted twin-guitar figures planted throughout Necrocracy and the rare progressive passages unearthed in
“Sickened,” but there’s gold to be discovered in the mountains of furious, doom-laden
riffs on Necrocracy, not to mention the
demented, contorted dynamics that twist the dizzying “The Shapes of Deaths to
Come” and “(So Passes) the Glory of Death” into impossible metal yoga
positions.
Not addicted to speed anymore, Exhumed takes obscene
pleasure in witnessing the trudging, writhing agony of their complex instrumental movements, but when the time is right to go on a murderous sonic rampage, they never hesitate. Necrocracy is a pit of sinister, angry pythons slithering all over each other and ready to squeeze the life out of anything that engages it. It goes down a maze of dark scary alleys that reek of death, and it runs with the bulls, almost hoping to get gored. Though they
add demonic texture at times, the terrifying vocals can be a little much, as are the
excessive and sometimes gratuitous lyrical autopsies performed here. Dig past
that, and Necrocracy rewards bravery
and a strong stomach.
Garbage had a different kind of “seven-year itch” to
scratch. Whereas that phrase usually refers to the desire for an extra-marital
affair after a lengthy period of wedded bliss, Shirley Manson, Steve Marker,
Duke Erikson and Butch Vig decided earlier this decade that seven years was too
long to be apart.
In 2012, Garbage came storming back, releasing the sharply
focused, electro-rock flash grenade Not
Your Kind of People and embarking on their first world tour in what seemed
like forever. They were missed.
On Oct. 6, 2012, Garbage gave a packed
house at the Ogden Theatre in Denver all it wanted and then some in a brilliant,
high-voltage performance that should have caused blackouts throughout the
metropolitan area. Multiple cameras deftly bring to life the electric action with
clarity, color and a keen sense of what the home audience wants – wide shots of the band in
full roar, engaging close-ups of Manson and back-and-forth editing that captures the intense creative
chemistry of Marker and Erikson – in a raucous, dynamic new concert film “One
Mile High … Live,” out now on DVD and Blu-ray from Eagle Rock Entertainment that smartly tacks on a handful of music videos and short, but sweet, featurettes on
the making of some of Garbage’s latest techno-rock viruses from Not Your Kind of People.
The focal point, of course, is Manson, her striking red
hair, brash demeanor, stunningly expressive vocals and magnetic charm
impossible to ignore. Remarking with amazement how every one of their shows on
that tour seemed on the verge of devolving into a “f- -king ruckus,” and how it
was the women in the audience riling everybody up, a confident Manson lets her
raw sexuality bleed out as she plays up the unhealthy desires, lust,
alienation, pain and feelings of betrayal of the dysfunctional people and their
broken relationships living in her lyrics, becoming vulnerable or predatory depending
on her mood.
She is bruised and unbalanced in tales of romantic obsession
such as the gloriously noisy “Control” and the dreamy, hypnotic “#1 Crush,”
both versions on “One Mile High … Live” so gripping and unsettling. Confident
and charismatic, she is “Special,” and on that melodically thorny Garbage
anthem, as well as the punched-up, ultra-violet techno-shockers “Big Bright
World,” “Battle in Me,” “Push It” and “Blood for Poppies,” Manson is a
galvanizing force of nature, her powerful vocals somehow rising above the
danceable, futuristic din of crunchy guitars and angry, moody electronica
cooked up by Marker and Erikson. At once abrasive and blaring, but also stylish
and atmospheric on the elegant, James Bond-like “Milk” and “The Trick is to
Keep Breathing,” the heady rush of bent sounds produced by Marker and Erikson
– propelled forward by Vig’s clean, crisp drumming – are loud and full of vitality, whipping
up an addictive cacophony in “Supervixen” and “Only Happy When it Rains” that’s
beautifully disorienting.
Garbage knows where
all the hooks in their catalog are buried, and as an incredibly tight live act,
these alternative-rock veterans – with bass mercenary Eric Avery, from Janes
Addiction and Nine Inch Nails, enlisted to plow rumbling grooves – make damn
sure they gleam and stand up to be counted, even as squalls of squealing,
squirming techno threaten to consume the earnestly infectious set-closer “Vow”
and everything else on “One Mile High … Live.” Vibrant and bracing, Garbage
classics and newer stuff coexist easily on “One Mile High … Live,” and riding a
wave of ‘90s nostalgia, their return was, perhaps, predictable. Whether that’s
the reason for their triumphant comeback is immaterial. They’re here, they’re
“Queer” – yes, they played that slinky number, too, and it is a seductive mistress – and they’re not going anywhere.
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