Motley Crue at the Hollywood Bowl 7/21/14: A Full Circle Alchemy of Dreams

By Randi Reed

Last Monday night (7/21/14) was Mötley Crüe’s homecoming show at the Hollywood Bowl, on the band’s final tour.

I believe the band means it when they say this is Mötley Crüe’s last tour. Nikki Sixx has spent a large part of the last decade transitioning toward other endeavors, so I’ve been expecting it. I’ve also been dreading it, because it’s hard to say “goodbye.”

I can’t be objective about this show, because I have too long of a history with Mötley. (Get your minds out of the gutter, Dirt fans. Not that kind of history.) So, instead of a review, I’d like to scribble a few thoughts and flashbacks from my keyboard…

If someone had asked my teenaged self, back when I was starting to dream about living in L.A., to close my eyes and imagine what my idea of a perfect Mötley Crüe show would be, it might have looked a lot like Monday night’s show. It was a colorful spectacle of all good things Mötley…Fantastic lights, more pyro than I’ve ever seen at one show, and lots of “atomic fireballs,” as I call them. Kudos to SRae Productions.

There were elements from the band’s entire career span—a pentagram here, Theatre of Pain colors there, the bandshell alternately flashing stripes of Red White and Crüe or playing the role of a glowing red pit of Hell. It all came together into a wonderful version of Mötley Crüe’s Oz…but thrown in a blender and whirled around a bit, and then spit out into something that actually made sense.

As a kid I’d dreamed of going to shows at the Hollywood Bowl, and it’s still my favorite venue in L.A.. Mötley Crüe began their career epitomizing the Hollywood club scene, and I can’t think of a more fitting place for their homecoming show on their last tour. It was the perfect backdrop, and it’s not lost on me that the bandshell at the Hollywood Bowl is shaped like a stylized rainbow. And there was no better place in the world for them to perform “Saints of Los Angeles”.

Somewhere in all that, obscured by their own smoke at times, was the band. Given Mötley’s history, that was fitting, too.

Were they flawless? No. You don’t walk into a Mötley Crüe show expecting flawless. But they delivered, and they were perfect in their own wonderfully, humanly-flawed imperfect way. It was light years beyond the show by a woefully messed-up version of themselves I’d walked out on during the Girls Girls Girls tour, and I’m proud of them.  Monday night’s show was a hell of a ride.

As I write, I find myself struggling to find the right words. I’ve now written, scrapped, and re-written this paragraph six times. (Maybe “six” is fitting, too…)

How do you say goodbye to a band you idolized as a kid, whose members you later came to see as people because you were fortunate enough to have a job that occasionally put you on their periphery?

How do you say goodbye to a band who gave you the dreams that put you there? --And made you realize that maybe, if you worked really hard at them, you could make a lot of them come true?

Mötley Crüe taught me that not only did I have dreams, but to fight for them. Hard. 

I learned it from watching them become rock stars, from afar, from a tiny Southern California town in the middle of nowhere, which I referred to as “Hell”.

My town had no school (it was thirteen miles away) but it had two liquor stores, a convenience store, and a tiny post office that didn’t even deliver the mail. Most of the residents were retirees from Hollywood’s Golden Age, of which I had no appreciation until later. For a kid far too young to drive, it was planets away from civilization, and I was surrounded by “interesting characters” and messed-up people. Did I mention my town also happened be on a Meth Route?

Having moved there from the outskirts of a large Midwestern city, I was really pissed off at my parents. On a regular basis, I accused them of “stranding us in Hell” and plotted my escape. 

A hint of Salvation came when a guy my parents knew found out I liked rock music. He showed me how to connect my stereo’s radio to cable, as you’d do for cable TV. So now instead of just reception for Big Band and Muzak, I could listen to every L.A.radio station. He also gave me a stack of rock magazines and told me where to find the current issues, which were hidden in an obscure rack at the convenience store.

“Hell” was still hideous, but at least now I had something good to listen to, and new décor in the form of rock star wall paper.  

At the end of every week, L.A. rock stations used to read off a list of which bands were at what clubs. I remember hearing Palomino Club* ads for Mick Mars’ band Spiders and Cowboys and Starwood ads for Nikki Sixx’s band, London. London was in a couple of the rock rags, and though I’d never heard them, I was fascinated by them. Nikki Sixx had hair that looked like a cool sheepdog, and to me, he looked like a star. I also heard ads for Vince’s band Rock Candy, and not long after that, ads for Mötley Crüe, with that Nikki guy from London.

Mötley Crüe was even more fascinating than London. In stage gear they looked like cartoon characters out of a nightmare…more so than KISS, who I liked but had never thought of as dangerous (Sorry, Gene). I had no idea what Mötley Crüe sounded like but was dying to see them, because word about Mötley was spreading fast.  But going to shows was out of the question; in those days, concerts weren’t for kids. So when Mötley did an in-studio appearance on an L.A. radio show for Too Fast for Love, it was appointment radio. I posted a “Homework—Keep Out” sign on the door to my room so I could listen in peace.

The Shout at the Devil album and “Looks That Kill” came along just when things were getting really crazy at home. It was primal scream therapy, to the tune of Mötley Crüe, and “Too Young to Fall in Love” could be heard emanating from my room at the back of the house on a regular basis.

How do you say goodbye to a band who gave you a way to cope when you were weighing your options between chaos at home or becoming a thirteen year-old runaway? –-A band whose music provided a mix of "F***k you" angry lyrics and “you can do it” musical optimism just when you needed it most? The irony of living in “Hell” and being “Saved” by a band whose image included fire and pentagrams still makes me smile.

Little did I know, at the time, that learning how to deal with an interesting but troubled assortment of people would become an important skill for my future career in the music industry. And starting from age sixteen, the Mötley guys and I would have a lot of crisscrossing paths as I began to build my resume.

Little did I know, Nikki Sixx would be one of those troubled people. He’s talked about and written about this period of his life, but at the time few people knew he was slipping back into his own version of Hell. Nikki was always nice to me, even giving me badly needed career advice once when I was stuck, and I felt guilty for not seeing how far he’d fallen again. Thank God Allen Kovac did--and is the kind of manager who doesn’t let addicts get away with the tricks they’re known for. And that Nikki stepped up and did what he needed to do to pull himself out of Hell. (Meanwhile, I finally stepped up and set out to learn about drug and alcohol addiction, which had claimed the lives of several people close to me.)

Allen Kovac helped Nikki Sixx and his Motley cohorts find their dreams again—just like the band had helped me find mine as a kid, and probably countless others.

All those things were in my thoughts leading up to Monday night’s show. And when the band hit the stage, I put it all on “pause”. I didn’t even take photos during the show, because I wanted to just experience and enjoy it. It was all a perfect alchemy of dreams coming true, and life, and triumph, and bittersweet joy.

So how do you say “goodbye” to a band who gives you all that? 
 
Maybe you don’t… Maybe you just say, “Thank you.”

Thank you, Mötley Crüe: Nikki Sixx, Tommy Lee, Mick Mars, and Vince Neil.

*The club where Mick’s band played when he met Nikki Sixx has been called the Stone Pony in various sources, including The Dirt and Chronological Crüe, The Stone Pony is in New Jersey and is where Jon Bon Jovi started out--not Mötley Crüe. The Palomino Club on Lankershim Blvd. in North Hollywood is the club Mick was referring to. The name confusion may have been because Linda Ronstadt’s band, the Stone Poneys, had famously played there. It also may be that perhaps legal clearance to use the Palomino Club’s trademarked name couldn’t be obtained for publication in The Dirt. There were several Liquor stores on Lankershim within easy walking distance from the Palomino, including Circus Liquors, which seems exactly like the kind of place a young Nikki Sixx would have chosen to work.


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Letter to a Rude Guy: How Not To Treat People at a Concert (And What Happens When You Do)

Last week I aggravated an old ankle injury at a show in Anaheim, necessitating the use of a cane. For Bon Jovi’s Staples Center show a couple of days later, I was still on the cane so I used the opportunity to see what it’s like to be a differently-abled audience member (no industry perks, and without venue staff knowing I’m industry). I’d planned to post about that, but first I need to address an audience member who was at that show. At least six people saw what you’re about to read. To any guys reading this,  please be assured this is no reflection on your gender. There were plenty of rude women there, too. This person just happened to be the worst I saw. I wrote this the morning after the show.

Dear Rude Guy in Floor 1 at Bon Jovi Staples Center, Los Angeles, CA, October 11, 2013:

If your behavior at the above-mentioned show is any indication, there’s nothing “dear” about you.

Out of human decency I will do you the courtesy of not mentioning our row number, or your seat number, in a public forum. But don’t think I’m not tempted to. You’re probably lucky I’m the one writing this instead of someone who does not consider the power of his or her words.

In the middle of Jon Bon Jovi’s Circle Stage* performance to my right, you barreled your way down our row to get to Jon, passing in front of everyone in our row without so much as an “excuse me.” As you pushed past, you inappropriately ran your hand over BFF @Jinjer ’s hip area, then knocked my cane off of the back of the chair in front of me, sending my purse flying and nearly toppling me over as I balanced on one foot. Had that chair not been in front of me to grab onto, I would have fallen; the only thing that kept me from it was a hopping lurch toward it on my good foot.

Someone with less mobility would have gone down. Someone with manners would have noticed their error and apologized and perhaps helped the injured party retrieve her purse and cane, or, at the very least, said a simple “excuse me.” You did none of those.

If you’d made a beeline toward the restroom after your loutish behavior, I might have been more forgiving, because you may have been ill. (You looked sober.) But no…

You proceeded to stand in the aisle that was next to me, blocking my view, and then you attempted to crowd me out of my spot in front of my aisle seat and claim my seat as your own. (My seat was a full-price ticket, bought through normal channels, by the way. I wanted to have fun and not feel obligated to “network” so I didn’t even use an industry buy. Your seat was at the other end of our row.) Then you had the temerity to nudge me and smile and try to be my concert buddy while I stood my ground (on my one good foot) and tried to ignore you as I clapped along in support of my favorite frontman.

Oh, but wait…There’s more.

When I shouted in your ear, “I’m balanced on one foot. Please move!” and held up my cane to show you--yeah, the one you never noticed you’d sent flying a minute ago--you ignored me and continued to crowd me while I balanced precariously.
  

This is why you were at the show without a date. And if you think that trolling Bon Jovi concerts for female companionship is going to help you, you are sadly mistaken.

Do not think for a millisecond that gold Rolex you were attempting to show off by pushing up the sleeves of your cashmere sweater will help you. It won’t.

Do not try to blame my icy glare--some might call it “the stinkeye”--and my lack of any friendliness toward you on the fact that Jon Bon Jovi was standing a mere few feet away. While that certainly wouldn’t help your case, Jon’s not your problem.

It’s you. More specifically, the problem is your behavior and demeanor.

You, sir—note the omission of a capital on that “S,” because you clearly don’t deserve one-- are an ass.

That is why, unbeknownst to you, while you were busy pulling out your camera, I caught the eye of the usher working the aisle, gestured toward you, and gave her the Security “he’s outta here” hand signal. She gave me a nod of recognition and came toward you immediately.

Until that show, it was unthinkable that I’d ever use it as an audience member. Even while working various artists’ shows over the years I’ve only had to use it twice, because most people are truly good people who just get a little carried away. I do admit to feeling more than a little gleeful when I used it on you, however. You groped my best friend’s *ss and nearly knocked me over, remember?

You then proceeded to stand in the aisle pleading with the female usher, which only made you look more asinine (I didn’t think that was even possible). You had no case, and she got rid of you as two members of Security--who’d silently moved in behind you without your ever noticing--stood ready to escort you out as necessary. (As it always does when I see Security move in on someone, the theme from “Jaws” ran briefly through my head.)

Let me guess: you didn’t get laid after the show that night, did you, Rude Guy?

While Security was dealing with you, I just rolled my eyes and shook my head and went back to watching my favorite frontman sing. You know…the guy who inspired me to want a music career in the first place. You know…the career where I learned that signal that made them send you packing.

Ain’t the Circle of Life grand?

And while all this was going on a few feet away from him? Jon, pro that he is, kept singing and didn’t miss a note, despite multiple audience distractions.

Amen.

“Have a Nice Day,” Rude Guy.

RR

P.S. The ushers and Security were very busy dealing with seat stealers and rude people that night. Thanks and kudos to them for doing such a great job.

Also, Staples Center Guest Services staff, you rock! Thank you for helping me get around that night. You went above and beyond, and you did it with a smile. I wanted to see what differently-abled concert goers really experience, so you didn’t know I’m industry ‘til now… Surprise! :-) Thanks again. I had a great evening, despite Rude Guy’s antics.

“The world is only broken into two tribes: The people who are as*h*les, and the people who are not.”—Arnold Spirit Jr., The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

*For those not familiar with the show, that’s the part of the stage where Jon comes down front with his acoustic guitar to sing a few songs.

©2013 Randi Reed and MusicBizadvice.com .All rights reserved.

Concert Review: Adam Lambert / Orianthi/ Allison Iraheta Pacific Amphitheatre, Costa Mesa, CA 7/28/10

by Randi Reed
 
Adam Lambert: 
 
Having been a cheerleader of Adam Lambert from his first audition on American Idol, it was easy to say yes when a friend asked me to come along to see his show at the Pacific Amphitheatre...
 
…but I also didn’t know what to expect. Would it be the pseudo electronica alterna-dance Adam of his current CD, For Your Entertainment? Would it be the guylinered, leather-and-black-nail-polished “Rocker Adam” my girlfriends and I all crushed over during his early American Idol episodes?

What about the music? Would it sound like the album, or would the arrangements be the slightly guitar-heavier sound of his TV talk show performances of late? So many questions! Between you and me, after years of working in the live concert business and seeing “the man behind the curtain,” it was nice not knowing what was going to happen going in.

Adam Lambert is so good at what he does, and has such a commanding stage presence, it’s easy to forget this is his first major tour as a solo artist. He has a beautiful voice, which has become clearer and richer since Idol. His stage persona morphs easily from slightly dark magician-esque court jester, to gay cabaret rave dance host, to concerned friend of teens who are worried about feeling like a freak…all while somehow seeming to remain uniquely himself.

Watching him, I kept forgetting that, musical theater experience aside, he’s still pretty new at this. In fact, in my notes I’d just written “Adam Lambert is the male Cher”--which is a good, cool thing by the way; Cher is a fantastic performer--when I was reminded of his newness by a far-too-long “quick” change, complete with empty stage. That would never happen to Cher. Why weren’t the dancers sent out? Since the long “quick change” seemed planned into the production, here the problem stems from poor planning in production design and stage management, not necessarily Adam Lambert. Unfortunately, Adam’s name is the one on the ticket.

Until this point, I’d almost forgiven him for the fact that the show’s opening intro--a recording of “For Your Entertainment,” his CD’s title track--went on too long and that his entrance needed reworking. The logical thing would have been for Adam to go live and pop out from somewhere unexpected on the line “I’m here for your entertainment.” But that never happened. Instead, we were left staring at an empty stage with a backdrop of Adam’s face (from the CD cover) as the song played on…an unnecessary disappointment, and a waste of precious set time.

Additionally, though his musical theater experience serves him well, it hinders his performance as a pop star when it comes to crowd energy management. He commands the stage, but has not yet mastered the crowd. He had them, then the spell--and its accompanying energy--was broken by the long quick change, and then again later by an awkwardly placed introduction of every dancer (individually, by name) in the middle of a high energy dance number that had the crowd dancing only seconds before.

These issues likely stem from the fact that musical theater requires its performers to ignore crowd distractions and keep going according to script. Conversely, being a great live pop or rock star requires paying attention to everything happening in the crowd and ad libbing it to your advantage. … It’s a tough switch, but with his talent, Adam Lambert can do it. Until then, a few changes to the production design could help him out.

Oh, and as for the guylinered, leather-and-black-nail-polished “Rocker Adam”? I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss seeing this side of him live. But sometimes guylinered, leather clad rock and roll guys are a dime a dozen. Unique artists like Adam Lambert are needed in this world. Adam’s message that it’s OK to be different is especially important for gay teens…or for that matter, for anyone who’s ever felt awkward or out of place. And that’s every bit as cool.

Orianthi:

One has to give guitar phenom Orianthi and her team a lot of credit for pulling together an album and tour after what was undoubtedly a difficult blow, both personally and professionally: Orianthi was the guitarist for Michael Jackson’s ill-fated This is It tour, which was in rehearsals when Michael died suddenly.

Had Michael lived, Orianthi would still be out on that tour as I write this. Knowing what it takes for a relatively unknown to put together an album and tour--let alone having to suddenly switch marketing plans while dealing with the death of your boss--I have a lot of respect for her.

Orianthi has fast fingers, good stage presence, and an interesting look. She clearly has strong rock roots—influences of Eddie Van Halen, Jimi Hendrix, and even a little Slash are evident in her playing. Yet interestingly, she comes off as cheerful, not angry. In fact, Orianthi reminds me in a way of a blonde Suzi Quatro, if Suzi Quatro had a chirpily happy stage persona, sang songs with poppy choruses, and wore white or pastel leather…or perhaps she's like a young Lita Ford, without the F-you attitude.

Much of Oranthi’s music is radio friendly, which her voice fits perfectly. She sings it well, though her voice isn’t unique…not bad at all (if anything, she makes it look too easy), just not unique. Her first single, “According to You,” has a good, poppy chorus with lyrics delivering a surprisingly serious, positive message against emotionally abusive relationships. The juxtaposition works well, making the song stand far above the rest of the songs in the set.

On the negative side, her guitar work was a distraction rather than a plus at times, being a little out of tune and a bit sloppy on a couple of songs that had a more demanding vocal. On “Give Me the Bad News” it was…well, perhaps writing the word “atrocious” in my show notes was too strong, but close. Her vocals were fine, though, so reworking the guitar parts a bit would do the trick here.

Overall, Orianthi delivered decent songs, good stage presence, and a good performance, but her set still needs a little work...perhaps reworking the order of the set list or changing some of the arrangements to vary the tempos. But ultimately, Orianthi seems a good, accessible “starter rock star”…especially for girls who are past Disney but who aren’t quite up to someone more edgy and angry.

Allison Iraheta:

One of the frustrating things about American Idol has been its skill at killing a good artist’s rock cred. Idol’s core audience tends to be frightened by anything edgy or angry, and the audience that would usually like the edgier contestants is kept away by the perception that anyone who’s been on American Idol can’t possibly be cool.

This, I fear, may be the nemesis of Allison Iraheta’s career: the girl is just too cool for American Idol.

With powerful stage presence and a flirty-cool rocker chick stage persona, she comes off wise beyond her years. Her naturally raspy voice sounded a little tour –weary, but it somehow works for her, and sounded edgy and cool rather than tired.

In fact, she reminds me a little of the Divinyls’ Christina Amphlett, but with her own unique vibe, and I can see her potential to develop a similar cult following. But then there’s that damn American Idol thing hanging on her back.

She performed a good set overall, with a decent band, albeit with some “help”: it bothered me that I could hear her voice on the backup vocals and not just on the lead. With her talent, Allison Iraheta doesn’t need to resort to such tricks, which only further lessen her credibility in the rock world…which is a shame, because without the Idol mark on her back, I feel she could be a contender to be huge in the rock world. (A colleague remarked, “Maybe she could change her name and start over to get rid of the Idol thing?”)

All in all, I enjoyed Allison's set and would see her again; frankly, I enjoyed her performance more than Orianthi’s. Aside from the vocal help, the only major flaw I could find with Allison Iraheta’s performance was that it came to an abrupt end; she ran offstage with nary a “thank you”, bow, or goodnight.

But first tours are for learning that sort of thing.

RR


Follow me on Twitter @MusicBizAdvice.



ETA 7/14: a broken Twitter link and to correct a typo in Alison's review.--RR




© 2010-2013 Randi Reed and MusicBizAdvice.com. All rights reserved.

Springsteen gets his location wrong, media has a field day? WTF???

You'd think all my years in the music business would make me immune to the stupidity of some of the media, wouldn't you?

Surprise. At times, they're the gift that keeps on giving.

I refer to the media flurry over Bruce Springsteen greeting his audience with the wrong location the other night. The man said, "Hello Ohio!" to a crowd in Michigan. Horror of horrors (!)


For those unfamiliar with unusual punctuation marks, the above exclamation point in parenthesis denotes sarcasm. (Handy little guy, isn't it?)

What the media either doesn't know--or what the media may know full well but may be choosing to ignore in order to create a "story"-- is this:

Shouting out the wrong location happens to nearly every performer. It's an occupational hazard that comes along with faced-paced tour schedules, jet lag, and concert venues that often look a hell of a lot alike and are sometimes even named identically. Shouting out the wrong location doesn't even mildly qualify for my Music Business Blunders column on MusicBizAdvice.com, simply because it happens to pretty much every touring musician at least once. It happens to comedians, too.

A little embarrassing? Yes. But "left shame-faced", as some of the media, including the Mirror, reported? Puh-lease. "Shame-faced" is what the media should feel for reporting such a thing. (Google "Bruce Springsteen wrong state" and see what comes up: over 71,000 results as I write this.)

Anyone who's ever worked backstage at an arena has seen the temporary signage posted by the crew of that night's artist. In the production office, the dressing rooms, on the walls of the hallway leading to the stage, pinned to the fabric of the quick-change tents at the side of the stage, and sometimes even taped to mirrors and telephones are reminders: "You are in Phoenix, Arizona." "This is Buffalo!" "Cleveland!!!"

You can't tell me the media has never seen them.

But for the artist, who's accustomed to being on the road and makes his home on it for weeks or months at a time, it's like anything else that becomes familiar: after a while, you just don't notice it.

There's no offense intended, either to the town in which the mistake occurs, or to the audience. It just happens.

I can't count the number of times backstage when a musician or crew member, in the middle of a conversation, has asked me, "This is [such and such city], right?" Or, accompanied by a nervous laugh, a sheepish, "Where are we?" Most of them were stone-cold sober at the time.

But here's the most important, and in my opinion, the coolest, thing: Many musicians never forget a face, and a lot of them even remember the name that goes with it...

especially a reporter who exaggerates a common occurrence for the sake of creating a story.

(Oh, and psssst! By the way, Reporter, the correct name of the venue, which you bungled in the midst of your railing on Bruce, is The Palace of Auburn Hills. I'm sure the good people of Michigan would like to see that corrected.)

Cheers!






Disclosure of Endorsements/Recommendations/Financial Compensation or Business Relationships per FTC Blog Disclosure Regulations in effect December 1, 2009: In the 90's I worked for a concert promotion company that presented many Bruce Springsteen shows. Additionally, MusicBizAdvice.com website (and by extension, this blog) sells Amazon products as an Amazon Associate.

Are You Kidding Me??? (aka How Not to Play Live)

Heard on the car radio by MusicBizAdvice.com's Researcher Extraordinaire on the ride home tonight:

A guy from a signed band who's currently an opener was saying how he's getting quite an education from Dave Grohl on how to work an arena. Then came the kicker: "Hats off to him, because I don't think I could play for two hours straight."

WTF???

Loyal readers, if this is you, we implore you...

Get crackin'.

We can't even imagine stamina being a factor with the bands we grew up listening to (or even the first bands we were in or managed), because they were constantly either practicing or jamming. And being the 80's, there were pretty good odds they were um...impaired.

What the hell are you doing? Get off the computer and go practice.

New Section Over at MusicBizAdvice.com

Hi Everyone,

When I'm coaching someone in live performance, and in articles I write over at the main MusicBizAdvice.com site, I often refer to specific artists, songs, or performances as an example to get the point across...

...And since the beginning of MusicBizAdvice.com 10 years ago, we've wanted to implement video examples into the site by including video of artist's specific performances. Until recently, performance royalties and bandwidth expense made it impractical.

Therefore, we give you The MBADC Performance Coach. You'll find it in the left-hand menu over at MusicBizAdvice.com.

When you click on it, you'll find links to video clips, along with what you can learn from each performance, and what to look for that made us cite it as an example. (Where applicable, you'll also find a link to the MusicBizAdvice.com article in which we've cited it as an example.)

Each clip, and each artist, has something you can learn...whether or not the artist is in your musical genre, or whether or not you even like that particular artist. It's all about learning from the best, and expanding your creativity.

More links to video are coming weekly, as we find them. In most cases have specific performances in mind, so it sometimes takes a little while to track it down and find the best version.

In fact, as soon as I post this I'm off to continue the search for a clip of this one band that...well, I'll leave that for you to see later.

Make something great happen today,
Randi Reed
Founder / Editor in Chief, MusicBizAdvice.com