Showing posts with label Montreux. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Montreux. Show all posts

DVD Review: Deep Purple - Live at Montreux 2011

DVD Review: Deep Purple - Live at Montreux 2011
Eagle Rock Entertainment
All Access Review:  A-


Deep Purple has tried this before. Back in 1969, when the idea of a rock band sharing the stage with an orchestra seemed absolutely ludicrous, especially to so-called “serious musicians” who wanted nothing to do with anything besides classical music, Jon Lord’s ambitions were realized. The long-time Purple keyboardist had composed the three-part movement epic Concerto for Group and Orchestra, and plans were made for the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra to perform the piece at Royal Albert Hall … with Deep Purple, mind you.

Not surprisingly, as singer Ian Gillan recalls during a lengthy interview included with the new separate concert DVD and two-CD packages Live at Montreux 2011, many members of the orchestra “… had an air about them” and were not keen on cooperating with Purple in any capacity. At that time, classical musicians did not play well with others, which was somewhat understandable. There really wasn’t much precedence for this sort of thing, The Nice’s Five Bridges being the only other deal with the devil hatched between an orchestra and a rock band around that time. A forward-thinking conductor by the name of Malcolm Arnold wasn’t having any of it, however. Gillan remembers Arnold giving the whole orchestra a rather “… brusque ‘pull your socks up,’” which evidently is British code for, “stop acting like bratty snobs and get back to work before I give you what for.” The mutiny quelled, Deep Purple, still clinging to its progressive-rock approach while edging ever closer toward the more straightforward, riff-heavy attack they would unleash on 1970’s In Rock and 1972’s Machine Head, and the Royal Philharmonic ultimately joined forces to produce a performance that – perhaps because of the publicity the event generated – unexpectedly landed their collaboration on the charts.

What was once a groundbreaking proposition, reserved for only the most classically inclined bands of the progressive movement, has become old hat for Deep Purple, having performed with an orchestra several times over the years. Last year, Gillan, drummer Ian Paice, bassist Roger Glover, guitarist Steve Morse and keyboardist Don Airy, Lord’s replacement, went down to Montreux, the Swiss community forever linked to Deep Purple by catastrophe and the classic song, “Smoke on the Water,” inspired by the ruinous casino fire started “by some stupid with a flare gun” at a Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention concert. Backing them this time around at famed Montreux Jazz Festival was the 38-piece Neue Philharmonic from Frankfurt, Germany – under the blue-collar, workmanlike direction of Stephen “BK” Bentley-Klein – and in all likelihood, over time, Purple has learned a valuable lesson from other, more disastrous pairings such as this, and that is, don’t let the armada of cellists, violinists, and whatever other instrumentalists happen to be in the room play pretty and decorate these full-on, hot-blooded rock anthems with a lot of flair and ornamentation.

The buzz word for Gillan and Paice regarding this project is “augmentation.” Comparing the Neue Philharmonic’s purpose to that of Count Basie Orchestra, the two Purple war horses talk about how the orchestra swings and puts a strong shoulder to the grooves of the band’s classic hits, and the orchestra does indeed expand on and enhance them with huge, sweeping waves of sound that seem to lift and carry to heaven tracks like the lushly exotic “Rapture of the Deep” and the swooning instrumental “Contract Lost” – featuring Morse’s soaring, beautifully sketched guitar solo – that opens the doors of perception to a reflective, emotionally powerful “When A Blind Man Cries.” And when called for, Neue provides additional horsepower to “Woman from Tokyo,” “Space Truckin’” and a blazing, brightly lit version of “Highway Star.”

It all comes together on “The Well Dressed Guitar,” where Morse grinds away in brutally heavy fashion while glorious strings radiate blinding light as the crowd, in dazzling unison, raises their hands overhead to clap along with Gillan. Coming down however briefly from that incredible high, the two units launch into a powerful, majestic version of “Knocking at Your Back Door” that’s surges with dark melodic energy. On “Lazy,” Purple takes over, their bluesy breakdowns and uprisings needing no color or nuance, although Bentley-Klein does come down from his perch to offer up a scintillating violin foray to Morse’s clinical six-string dissection and Airey’s smoldering organ blasts. Between that and Airey’s needlessly showy, but nicely balanced solo blend of futuristic keyboard sounds and jazzy piano, “No One Came” works up quite a sweat, with Morse’s tricky lead finishing the job in spectacular fashion.

A bit glitzy, as if begging for a residency at some tacky Las Vegas hotel, and at times losing touch with the earthiness and guts that have always kept Deep Purple grounded, the lengthy Live at Montreux 2011 is, nonetheless, a lively, brilliantly filmed document of a magic night in the life of Deep Purple in a place that’s become to them a second home. The sound has great clarity and richness, while the high-definition cameras, shooting from a satisfying variety of angles and distances, provide a visual feast for the eyes. Packaged with in-depth, and quite candid, interviews with every current member of Deep Purple, plus a smattering of new and vintage footage, Live in Montreux 2011 is a heady rush of concert excitement. And when “Smoke on the Water” rises up like some sleeping giant awakened after around 40 years of dormancy, it fills Montreux with monstrous riffs, massive walls of strings and blaring horns trumpeting what feels like a new dawn for Deep Purple. It isn’t, actually, but for about 115 minutes, it seems as if the band, now having so much fun together, has dived right in to the Fountain of Youth and come out younger and full of vitality. And the Neue Philharmonic had something to do with that.

- Peter Lindblad

CD Review: Paul Rodgers & Friends - Live at Montreux 1994

CD Review: Paul Rodgers & Friends - Live at Montreux 1994
Eagle Records
All Access Review:  A-


In 1993, Paul Rodgers was a free man. The Firm had dissolved, the legendary front man was above and beyond The Law, Bad Company had become a distant, but still treasured, memory and the revered Free was long gone. Left with nothing to do, the singer with the brawny, torn-and-frayed pipes and expressive, denim-clad delivery looked again to the blues, his one true love, for inspiration. He found it in the music of Muddy Waters.
Keen to pay homage to the great man, Rodgers didn’t break character. Muddy Water Blues: A Tribute to Muddy Waters may have contained the spark of the Chicago-style electric blues that Waters once perfected, but it was powered by the blues-rock combustion of Rodgers’ work with Bad Company and Free. Not all of the tracks on Muddy Water Blues, the second of Rodgers’ solo albums, were Waters covers, but his spirit haunts the record, inhabiting its grooves and inspiring Rodgers and his collaborators. In 1994, a year after Muddy Water Blues’ arrival, Rodgers brought much of that record to life in a blustery, sweaty concert at Montreux, where he was joined onstage by the likes of Journey guitarist Neal Schon, drummer Jason Bonham, guitarist Ian Hatton and bassist John Smithson, as well as several guests, including Queen’s Brian May, Toto’s Steve Lukather and blues veterans Luther Allison, Eddie Kirkland, Sherman Robertson, Robert Lucas and Kenny Neal.
Though a star-studded affair, Live at Montreux 1994 has more of a blue-collar feel. This is a workingman’s record, with dirt under its fingernails and calluses on its hands. Sprinkled with plenty of songs that Rodgers made famous with Free and Bad Company, Live at Montreux 1994 also finds Rodgers digging his hands into the earthy soil of blues classics like Waters’ “Louisiana Blues,” which simmers with menace and pure nastiness on the stove here, letting all the rich flavors – including a particularly tasty guitar solo – sink into its meaty textures. In a surprising turn, May gets down and dirty on the Sonny Boy Williamson number “Good Morning Little School Girl,” his distorted guitar becoming a careening crop duster that dives and climbs with all the daring of pilot with a death wish. The highlight of a sensational set, “Good Morning Little School Girl” is simply mean, burning with intensity and passionate playing. To finish off the night, Rodger and crew slam into Robert Johnson’s “Crossroads” and the closer, “Hoochie Coochie Man” by Willie Dixon, with all the force of a hurricane. The guitars sound like switchblades on and cut deeply with every note on “Crossroads,” as the rhythm section works up a mean, mean thirst crawling through the gutter on “Hoochie Coochie Man.”
Three of the songs Dixon wrote for Waters, including 1954’s “Hoochie Coochie Man” and “I’m Ready” and 1961’s “Let Me Love You Baby,” are included here and performed with all the righteous fervor of a tent revival ministry, as is Booker T. & the MGs’ “The Hunter.” Just as propulsive and muscular are the Rodgers’ classics “All Right Now,” the old Free hit, and rust-covered Bad Company diamonds “Can’t Get Enough (of Your Love)” and “Feel Like Making Love.” Ever the professional, Rodgers’ nuanced vocals add richness and depth to each track, while his handpicked group of hired guns plays the daylights out of this material almost all the way through, with the exception of the rare uninspired moment. The recording quality is pretty sound and world-class music writer Malcolm Dome does the show justice with well-written, informative liner notes. All of this makes you wonder if, or when, Rodgers will delve even deeper into the blues down the road.

- Peter Lindblad

Purchase CD: Artist Link 

Collectible Vintage Posters:

Bad Company
Queen


DVD Review: The Rolling Stones "Ladies And Gentlemen...The Rolling Stones"

DVD Review:  The Rolling Stones "Ladies And Gentlemen...The Rolling Stones"
Eagle Vision
All Access Review:  A


The shock and horror of Altamont had subsided, and to avoid a tax hell in England, the Rolling Stones had reluctantly taken their rock and roll circus to France. And somehow, in that crumbling palace of sin and dissolution known as Nellcote villa, where Keith Richards lived and did an obscene amount of drugs and parties went deep into the night, as did the occasional recording session, the Stones created a masterpiece, Exile on Main Street.

As the recently released documentary “Stones in Exile” so eloquently illustrates, the hazy, elegantly wasted atmosphere was hardly conducive to focused, intense work. Indeed, the Stones took their own sweet time in finishing the album, and by all rights, considering the environment, Exile on Main Street, a double album of all things, should have been a mess. And it was … but what a glorious mess it was.

Released to lukewarm reviews initially, the fabled Exile … would, as everyone knows, become one of the most revered albums in rock history, but then came the supporting tour. By Mick Jagger’s own admission, the far-flung band, spread out all over France, wasn’t always on its game every night. They could be sloppy and uninspired, but by the time they got to Texas, the Stones had transformed, once again, into the raucous, energized and tight-as-a-corset unit that made them one of rock’s greatest ever live acts.

Filmed over four nights in the Lone Star State in 1972, “Ladies And Gentlemen … The Rolling Stones” was original released theatrically for limited engagements in 1974. Few eyes have seen it since. Hidden from the public for 35 years, “Ladies And Gentlemen … The Rolling Stones” is an absolute treasure, a beautifully shot concert film – the colors rich and dark, and the camera angles varied and placed just right – that captures the Stones at the height of their live prowess. If previous shows on the Exile tour didn’t exactly set the world on fire, the performances here are the work of gleeful arsonists, the Stones blazing from the onset through such spirited numbers as “Brown Sugar” and “Bitch.” 

Cameras hone in on the flashy Jagger as he prances and crows with undisguised enthusiasm for the material, and he never lets up, even when sharing the spotlight with Richards on a rip-roaring, horn-splashed version of “Happy.” And his deliciously mischievous drawl wraps around every word of the acoustically tangled country gold of “Sweet Virginia” and “Dead Flowers” with equal doses of pleasure and pain.

In sharp contrast to Jagger’s attention-grabbing histrionics, Mick Taylor stands in stony silence off to one side, fluidly wringing out guitar leads that curl up and around Richards’ rhythmic stabs like ivy, while drummer Charlie Watts and bassist Bill Wyman set a quick pace for every song, handling their melodic contours with grace and toughness. An absolutely joyous “All Down the Line” chugs into the evil blues of “Midnight Rambler” like a runaway train, and the Stones inject a shot of adrenaline into Chuck Berry’s “Bye Bye Johnny” to name just a few of the many highlights here. And though the absence of the soaring female backing vocals on the recorded version of “Gimme Shelter” might be missed here, the band’s electrically charged performance will make you forget they were ever there. Every song is pure dynamite, the playing dynamic and forceful and Jagger rallying the troops with that trademark herky-jerky vim and vigor is a total delight.

An “Old Grey Whistle Test” interview with Jagger that’s included with the DVD isn’t very interesting, except as a piece of nostalgia from the period. Jagger’s 2010 interview about the film serves as a better companion piece, as do tour rehearsals from Montreux that find the band working through “Shake Your Hips,” “Tumbling Dice” and “Blueberry Jam.”

A deluxe edition box set of “Ladies And Gentlemen … The Rolling Stones” is also out. It includes additional bonus material and memorabilia. But if that’s a little out of your price range, this DVD is an essential historical document all on its own. 
-         Peter Lindblad