The rock and roll lifestyle is not an easy one, and the obits and rehab stories litter the edges of the path taken to achieve (or attempt to achieve) widespread fame. Chrissie Hynde has seen that up close with the loss of half her band early on, both Pete Farndon and James Honeyman-Scott leaving this earth long before they'd fully left their musical mark. Chrissie (and drummer Martin Chambers) have more than soldiered on, and the effects of Chrissie's well-publicized clean living lifestyle were clearly visible. She's very active with PETA and had a less than cordial greeting for any omnivores in the audience, and the new song 'The Last Ride' was an ode to fellow Akron, OH native and Alcoholics Anonymous founder Bob Smith.
Other new songs were received pretty well by the crowd, especially the rockabilly shuffle of "Boots of Chinese Plastic" with guitarist hotshot James Walbourne flashing notes all over the place; when he kept in the pocket he was effective but his John Mayer fantasies were a bit overbearing at times. Still, for a band with an aging audience which likely doesn't buy much new music, it was the older songs that were met with a more raucous response. 'Message of Love' and an unexpected cover of Juice Newton's "Angel of the Morning" were early highlights, and demonstrated that Chrissie's vocal range was still quite impressive, going from a dusky whisper to a clarion high easily. The big US radio hit of "Back on the Chain Gang" really shows her songwriting strengths when it moves from a light, bouncy pop song into a whole new world at the bridge. The last portion of the set list was prefaced by a "Let's rock! That's why we're here!" call from Chrissie, and there were absolutely no quibbles with the song choices.
Kicking off with the highly underrated 'Night In My Veins,' the set closed with the thunderous passion of "Mystery Achievement," with a bass line clearly in line for hall of fame enrollment. The encore was more early stuff, including 'The Wait' and a highly unexpected 'Up The Neck,' which nearly caused an aneurysm of joy as it's my favorite song of theirs. 'Middle of the Road' closed the deal, capping a great night. It was a bit surprising that they didn't play 'Brass In Pocket,' arguably their biggest hit, but they made the right decision as the momentum would have been lost. Rock first is always a wise strategy in the live setting.
Cat Power didn't get that memo. Over the last few records, Chan's been concentrating on interpreting others' songs, usually in a slow-burn, soulful manner. She's got a great, sympathetic band behind her (including guitarist Judah Bauer from Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, and Jim White from The Dirty Three and Will Oldham's touring band, looking like a crazed Gene Shalit behind the kit), but the energy level (following the nitro-charged vamping of Juliette Lewis) and total non-interaction of the audience (including playing her set mostly bathed in darkness) just wasn't there at all. I would have been better off sitting at home in the dark, listening to my LP version. You know the plan has problems when a strident protest song like 'Fortunate Son' is reduced to a breathy blues number, only catching fire at the very end with White's arms windmilling all over the place. Personally, I think that this phase of her career is played out, and I enjoyed the 2007 and 2008 shows. The only original she played, 'Metal Heart', also sounded the most genuine, and she even ruined her stellar reading of the Stones' 'Satisfaction,' wringing out the subtleties and desperate longing that her original recording had in spades. I have a feeling that the audience was wondering who was the polished karaoke act on stage. Chan, please return to your songbook. It's beautiful. Don't ignore it.
Opener Juliette Lewis (she lost the 'and The Licks') is more familiar to most on the silver screen rather than on stage, having starred in major roles from auteurs such as Woody Allen, Quentin Tarrantino and Martin Scorsese. She's clearly got the capability for entertaining and demonstrated the stage presence of a minor league Iggy Stooge (not intended as a slight, just that there's very few who can equal Iggy). Her band was capable but just that; it was clear who the star is, and she took the spotlight with leg kicks, mic cord whips, focused stalking and plenty of vocal histrionics. Her makeup and feathered shoulder outfit recalled the mohawked-rider of 'The Road Warrior', the right hand man of Lord Humongous and Mel Gibson's nemesis. The music itself isn't too distinctive from the pack of high-energy rock music, but her vocals are more than passable. This isn't just a diva-fueled side project for her. She takes it seriously and for the most part, delivers.
The show in photos:
