2002.11.17 - Mark Of The Quad Cities, Moline, USA

Retooled Guns N' Roses thrashes The Mark

By Sean Leary
Entertainment editor

MOLINE -- A surprisingly small crowd of about 6,500 turned out for perhaps the best rock concert of the year at The Mark of the Quad Cities Sunday night.

The retooled Guns N' Roses blew away the audience with a set fat on the classics, heavy on decibels and bursting with musical highlights provided by an all-star band.

Given, it isn't the same Guns that soared to multi-platinum heights in the late '80s and early '90s with the CDs ''Appetite For Destruction'' and ''Use Your Illusion I'' and ''II.'' The only remaining members are lead singer Axl Rose and ''Illusion'' keyboardist Dizzy Reed.

However, considering the pedigree and skills demonstrated by the current act, it's pretty much the next best thing. Featuring former members of Nine Inch Nails, Primus and The Replacements -- not to mention the inimitable guitarist Buckethead -- the new band can bring the thunder, as proven by its savage swing at Guns faves.

Predictably, but appropriately, the show exploded into being with a vicious take on ''Welcome to the Jungle.'' Mr. Rose's vocals ripped from his throat over a dueling guitar attack shoved around by an ominous bassline and primal drumming.

Powered by growling guitars, ''It's So Easy'' pulsed from the speakers as the singer bounded about the stage. There are few performers more adept at playing to an entire arena than Mr. Rose, who zipped from one end of the platform to the other throughout the night.

Curiously, he kept zipping backstage during the show, only for a few seconds at a time, and for reasons never explained to the crowd. It didn't particularly detract from the concert, since his departures were so short, but it just seemed odd. My guess is that it had something to do with technical problems, since his microphone went out at various times during the evening. No matter -- the show's momentum wasn't altered.

One of the concert's highest points, ''Live And Let Die'' was propelled by venom-filled vocals, stage-burning pyrotechnics and a mammoth wall of sound as the audience echoed the chorus.

Fans went mental as the first familiar notes of ''Sweet Child O' Mine'' jangled through the speakers. The bittersweet love song built momentum on its chiming, insistant melody and ended on a tough crescendo that flung the band into the diabolical thrash-fest, ''You Could Be Mine,'' a killer track that pummelled eardrums with its unstoppable triple guitars slashing the air like whip cracks.

Ending the night, ''Paradise City'' decimated the arena with adreneline-fueled guitars, an earthquake of glam-rock percussion and Mr. Rose's larynx-shredding vocals, joined by thousands of voices chanting in unison.

Confetti rained on the crowd, fireworks spilled from the rafters and flames rose from the stage as raucous cheering filled The Mark.

In all, it was a fan-pleasing evening that lived up to the hype. Only four new songs were offered with the rest of the two-hour-plus set devoted to good chunks of the ''Illusion'' discs and pretty much every track on ''Appetite.'' The set list was nearly perfect (with the notable omission of ''Don't Cry''), the sound was great and the performance was terrific.

It's been more than a decade since Guns N' Roses was the biggest band on the planet, an 11-year span that has seen the rise and fall of grunge, teen pop and rap-rock.

With the current musical landscape lacking a Next Big Thing, many pundits have tabbed good, loud rock as a possibly ascendant genre. If that comes to pass, Guns N' Roses may find that it picked the best possible time to return with its upcoming CD, the long-awaited ''Chinese Democracy.''

At the very least, if all its current round of live dates are as potent as its show at The Mark, Guns should prove to be a force to be reckoned with on the concert circuit for a long time to come.

Opening the night, the neo-metal act CKY (a.k.a. Camp Kill Yourself) got things going with 30 minutes of Black Sabbath-ish sludge rock. Mixmaster Mike -- the Beastie Boys' DJ -- followed with a very cool 40 minute set of rock-fueled hip-hop dance mixes. Song snippets from Rush, Jane's Addiction, the Beasties and more poured from the speakers as he scratched up an addicting sonic hybrid.

GNR jumps back into the jungle

Metal band CKY and DJ Mix Master Mike open show

By Sean Moeller
QUAD-CITY TIMES

One look at the crowd at Sunday night’s Guns N’ Roses show at The Mark of the Quad-Cities and you got the feeling that they had been waiting nine long years to again sport the bandanas and sleeveless T-shirts that they had mothballed since the Use Your Illusion tour.

What the medium-sized crowd lacked in bulk, they made up for in frenzy, testiness and volume. They turned Moline into the world's karaoke bar as they echoed Axl Rose's beautifully ranging and much-loved wail on all of the band’s staples with a ferocity that almost made his microphone redundant.

After a 40-minute gap between the final opener. Rose and his recruited new band cut straight to the chase with the unmistakable reverberating first notes of “Welcome To the Jungle" ringing from the left side of the stage before a spurt of white fireworks ovaled the back perimeter of the stage.

Rose, decked out in a brilliant orange University of Tennessee football jersey and black basketball warm-up pants, proved that time away does indeed make the metal hearts grow fonder, as female coos and fist-pumping were rampant. He showed that his patented stutter-step move is still in working order as he slid from to elevated side stages with monitors scrolling the lyrics in case the layoff proved too long.

His new crew admirably replicated the energy and electricity of the original cast. Guitarists Tommy Stinson. Richard Fortus and Bucket-head, who sports a KFC tub and a mask, took turns with the solos Slash had brought to life almost a decade ago.

GNR front-loaded the first half of the show with the radio and video hits from "Appetite For Destruction” and both “Use Your Illusion” albums, coursing through “Live and Let Die,” "Knockin' on Heaven’s Door,” "You Could Be Mine” and "November Rain” in the first dozen songs. Blasts of fire spewed up from spouts on the stage increasing the temperature in the arena 30 degrees and putting a toast in your cheeks every time Brian "Brain" Mantia stepped on his kick drum during "Live and Let Die.”

Each member took turns showcasing, as the rest of the band took breaks in between songs, causing gaps of up to five minutes.

Opener Mix Master Mike of the Beastie Boys did what he could to warm up the crowd with a masterful closed house party set that spliced together Rage Against The Machine, Missy “Misdemeanor" Elliott, Led Zeppelin, House of Pain and the recently gunned-down Jam Master Jay. but he seemed out of place when up against the impatient GNR fans.

Philadelphia’s CKY churned out their Metallica and Disturbed-ish brand of nu-metal to start the night.

Don't judge the man by his bucket

By Sean Leary

The war on terrorism has inflicted another deadly tragedy.

This time the casualty was an area man's right to party. More specifically, his right to party with a fried chicken bucket on his head.

This is the story of Guns 'N' Roses fan Tim Seward. But indeed, it is the tale of each of us, of our individual liberties that have been compromised by the tightened grip of fear and increased security measures brought about by wanton acts of violence perpetrated by evil-doers.

This is not a story for the weak-hearted. Nor is it a tale suitable for children (we don't want to be responsible for nightmares). Some relatives of Colonel Sanders may find it quite disturbing as well (see previous nightmares comment).

Our epic begins on the cold evening of Nov. 17 -- a night that would grow more frigid with the subzero breeze of repression.

On said evening, the popular rock 'n' roll band Guns 'N' Roses was playing a concert at The Mark of the Quad Cities in Moline. For those who haven't kept up with the group in the last decade, the new Guns lineup features a unique individual appropriately named Buckethead. Mr. Head, or ''Bucket'' as his friends call him and ''Bizucket Hizead'' as Snoop Dogg calls him, is one of the new guitarists, taking the place of Slash, who was also no stranger to oversized headgear.

Along with kudos with his musical prowess, Mr. Head has gained notoriety for his impeccable and unorthodox fashion sense. Typically, the guitarist goes on stage wearing an oversized jacket and pants, accompanied by a white mask covering a face framed by long, curly hair. One of his hands is typically clad in a sock puppet, through which he ''speaks'' during interviews. On top of his noggin is perched his crowning glory -- a Kentucky Fried Chicken bucket overturned and emblazoned with a ''Funeral'' sticker.

Yes, I know what you're all thinking: Isn't that what J. Lo wore to the Oscars a few years ago?

Well, no, she wore a Burger King crown and a roll of ''Police Line: Do Not Cross'' tape. However, the KFC topper is what Tim Seward -- often confused for J. Lo by the blind and near-blind -- tried to wear into The Mark on that November night, before security personnel at the arena forced him to doff the makeshift cap and leave it outside.

''I read that many fans came to the show with a bucket at the other venues,'' Tim said, paying tribute to his hero by doing this interview speaking through an Alf hand-puppet. ''Why did The Mark make me take it off before I went in? I was having a bad hair day as it was and then to have to see my favorite band bucketless, well it was pretty bad, trust me.

''I was only trying to express myself. Some people pierce their tongue and nose, some people get tattoos of 'Baywatch' babes on their inner thigh (not that I know anything about that) and some even act out Jerry Springer's shenanigans at their own trailers. Not me. I wear a bucket on my head. It's harmless fun, really. I wouldn't lie.''

Neither would his Alf puppet, people. Neither would his Alf puppet.

Tim noted that other fans wearing more conservative headwear also had their lids checked for security reasons, but none were told to remove them.

Common sense might tell us that that's because a baseball cap wouldn't quite block the view of fans sitting behind a person the way a large, cardboard food container would.

However, Tim's hand puppet would tell us that more insidious reasons were behind the haberdashery horror -- reasons having to do with a loss of personal liberties during these tough days. Reasons that make both Tim and his puppet yearn for kinder, gentler times.

''All I know is that I had to throw my bucket away,'' he said, stifling a sob. ''I had been through a lot with that bucket. Good and bad times. I had it on during my first Scritti Politti concert back in the day. I had it on during my first date ever two weeks ago. I had it on during my first communion, first bike ride and when I caught my first fish. But, there it was, in the trash as I walked through The Mark doors.

''I still enjoyed the show, but I really feel I was cheated when Buckethead did his solo. He was throwing rubber chickens out to the fans and I really, truly believe he would have winged one my way, but since I wasn't wearing a bucket and I didn't lift my shirt like some of the girls who did get rubber chickens, he didn't even acknowledge me.''

Tim let out a heavy sigh and dabbed his welling eyes with the Alf puppet. Truly, his is a tragic tale. Because people, if a man can't attend a rock concert with a fried chicken bucket on his head, then the terrorists have already won.

Damn you, Osama. Damn you.

However, Tim Seward has a dream, and indeed all of us must share it. He imagines a day when he can have the guitar solos at a Guns 'N' Roses show echo through the cardboard chamber secured upon his melon. When he, too, can compete with the hot and topless for rubber chickens. And when the smells he savors are more than the stenches of cheap pot and Aqua Net -- they are the scent of grease, the aroma of of a secret blend of herbs and spices.

On that day, my friends, they will smell like ... victory.