2016.07.27 - Georgia Dome, Atlanta, GA, USA

Melissa Ruggieri wrote:Concert review: Guns N’ Roses ignite Georgia Dome with brawny rock show

There were plenty of reasons to be skeptical of this Guns N’ Roses reunion tour.

Would there be any passion onstage or would it be a rote musical exercise with the dangling carrot of a meaty paycheck?

Could Axl Rose, a guy who admittedly joined the Bloated Aging Rock Star Club a few years ago, handle the physical and vocal rigors of a stadium show?

And, would the band notorious for starting their concerts after even Madonna has gone to bed actually show up?

The suspicion of any doubters was quickly quashed Wednesday night at the Georgia Dome when Guns N’ Roses – the heyday lineup of Rose, guitarist Slash and bassist Duff McKagan, along with longtime accomplices Dizzy Reed on keyboards, Richard Fortus on guitar and Frank Ferrer on drums and newcomer Melissa Reese on synthesizers – launched into the opener “It’s So Easy” and the crowd roared as Slash stepped forward for his first solo.

By the way, this all started at 9:30 p.m. – 15 minutes earlier than scheduled – and ended more than two and half hours and a few thousand damaged eardrums later.

From that first song, Rose proved a vital presence. Clad in ripped jeans with a flannel shirt tied around his waist and what turned out to be a series of T-shirts – likely due to the perpetual sweat that dripped from his elbows throughout the show – Rose slid from his pronounced nasal delivery during a taut, funky “Mr. Brownstone” to the mighty wails that infuse “Welcome to the Jungle” with its primal intensity.

The arrival of that song – the band’s first major hit from 1987 – was everything a fan could anticipate. While Rose’s vocals were a bit rushed on the verses, his yowling was in admirable form, as was the beautiful cacophony created by McKagan (who showcased a Prince symbol on his bass) and Ferrer during the song’s famous breakdown.

Performing on a stage stacked with tiers of stairs and flanked by a pair of colossal video screens, Rose and Slash in particular consumed the open space.

Slash struck his classic pose of right knee tipped forward as he melted strings during a solo on “Double Talkin’ Jive,” while Rose raced around the stage and spun on one leg as pyro popped behind him during “Live and Let Die,” the band’s rather thrilling cover of the Wings staple.

Watching how Guns N’ Roses appeared to legitimately enjoy playing together – was that a smile on Rose’s face during the epic “Civil War”? – you had to shake your head thinking about all of the years wasted on acrimony and bitterness when they could have been rousing fans and stuffing their bank accounts.

But at least they wised up in time – and came ready to play as professionals.

No one would have begrudged Rose if he had to take a hit off of an oxygen tank, but between these shows and his stint with AC/DC (he’ll be back with the Aussies Sept. 1 at Philips Arena), the mercurial frontman seems, at 54, re-conditioned for rock ‘n’ roll.

Rose did cede the microphone to McKagan, who churned out a boisterous cover of Iggy and the Stooges’ “Raw Power,” but he otherwise rarely rested, whether complementing Ferrer’s locomotive drumming on “You Could Be Mine” with a sneer or delivering “Sweet Child O’ Mine” with nostalgic flair.

Slash kept the 40,000-plus in attendance from flocking to the beer lines with a riveting rendition of “Speak Softly Love,” otherwise known as the love theme from “The Godfather” as well as a gorgeous guitar duet with Fortus on Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here,” which was full of fretboard acrobatics.

While Guns N’ Roses achieved their mega-platinum fame with a combination of serrated guitars married to insinuating melodies, the band could also stomp out a power ballad with the same intensity as one of Rose’s glass-shattering shrieks.

That ability was on display early in the night during “Estranged,” from “Use Your Illusion II,” and later during the pensive “November Rain.”

Seated at a piano brought to the edge of the stage, Rose, with Slash nearby, unfurled the timeless coda of “Layla” as the introduction to “Rain.” As Rose dug deeper into the sweeping 1992 hit, he sounded like man who believed what he was singing.

Fans likely chuckled when they heard that Guns N’ Roses christened the tour “Not in This Lifetime.” But not too long ago, the notion of hearing “Patience” or “Paradise City” with three of the band’s five original members seemed preposterous.

But a combination of clarity and maturity is apparently a musical jackpot.

Opening the Atlanta date was The Cult, the venerable British punk-goth-rockers.

Singer Ian Astbury was a vision in black – including sunglasses – as he and the band slammed through “Lil Devil,” the dark and foreboding “Deeply Ordered Chaos” and “Sweet Soul Sister,” with its reverberating chorus.

Astbury’s vocals often echoed uncomfortably in the half-filled stadium, and, despite his neck-vein-popping vocal performance on “Fire Woman,” the song was audibly mucky. The tunefulness of “She Sells Sanctuary” was better discerned and by the time they wrapped with “Love Removal Machine,” Astbury’s hair was freed from its ponytail and the crowd was primed for the main event.

Kelly Kazek wrote:9 thoughts of a middle-aged woman at a Guns N Roses concert

I've never been a fan of '80s hard rock bands, other than to admire their choice of hair-care products. My AquaNet would have never held up under all those hot lights.

Even when I was in my teens and early 20s, when bands like Guns N Roses, Poison or Motley Crue were at their height, I couldn't handle the high-pitched vocals, screaming guitars and videos in which the lead singers competed with blonde models to see who could perform the most hair-flips without permanent neck injury.

Seeing those groups in concert was out of the question. For one thing, in those days, you could get high just standing in the parking lot outside the concert ... in the next state. Not my thing. Plus, they required staying up past midnight and a willingness to forego the ability to hear for the next week or so. In short, I was the middle-aged woman of my group long before middle age.

I thought I had escaped the rock-n-roll-concert phase without ever being sprayed with the sweat of a long-haired rocker ... until Sweetums decided he wanted to see the reunion tour of Guns N Roses.

With 30 years separating me from my teens, I felt a renewed sense of optimism that I could survive such an event and, with a can-do attitude, I agreed to accompany him and a group of our younger friends. On Wednesday, July 27, 2016, we headed to the Georgia Dome and a second chance at youth.

How did it go, you ask? I thought you might, so I just happened to have this list handy.

9 thoughts of a middle-aged woman at a Guns N Roses concert

I can't believe that girl's mother really let her out of the house in those. They'd need another yard of fabric just to be called "shorts." Wait ... I think she is the mother.
What do you mean I can't bring a purse into the Dome? Where am I supposed to carry a flashlight so I won't trip in the aisles? Earplugs to protect my hearing? The Tiger Balm for my arthritic knee and my AARP card? You know, just in case.
If one more person bumps into me and my arthritic knee, I will be forced to write a strongly worded letter to Georgia Dome representatives, gently "suggesting" they install chair lifts on the stairs. If that doesn't work, I'll play the AARP card.
Look, Singer-Dude for the warm-up band, there's no need for that kind of language. Does your mother know you talk like that in public?
Is that how Axyl Rose used to look? It's difficult to tell, since I never followed him in Tiger Beat magazine. Plus, my eyesight is failing. He looks strange, though. I hope I don't look like that when I'm his age ... in, like, three years.
Seriously, did he always look that way? His face looks waxy. Like a wax figure. A waxy statue of Axyl Rose ... wait ... Waxyl. Waxyl Wose.
I really like those giant screen-thingies that show close-ups of the band. Back in the day, sitting in the balcony meant the band looked like tiny scurrying ants down there playing tiny ant guitars with tiny ant guitar picks. It was like watching "Honey, I Shrunk the Rock Stars." On the other hand, without the screens, no one would be able to see Waxyl Wose's face.
Axyl Rose wardrobe change count: T-shirts 8, headgear, 6. I wonder if he was making an artistic statement about rock music by alternating between designs of snakes, skulls and women's behinds. Whatever. It worked for him. Maybe – and I'm thinking out of the box here – he is just a really sweaty guy.
What did Sweetums say? I can't hear anything over what sounds like bees buzzing in my ear. Or maybe I just have wax in my ears ... or could it be the dying strains from Waxyl, Waxyl Wose?

Oh ... I almost forgot: The music was banging, which I have been told means "far out" and "groovy." They sounded a-MAY-zing. Plus, I was old enough to appreciate the talent on the drums and guitars.

They’re Outta Get Me! : Getting Shut Out for Speaking the Truth

So it started like any other day.  I grabbed my coffee, popped my Prozac (yes, I’m a spaz), and settled in for another day of hard rock and heavy metal blogging.  I worked all morning like normal and managed not to piss anyone off and suddenly, I received an e-mail from Guns N’ Roses’ PR person telling me I was a persona non grata (in case you’re wondering how I know such a fancy word, thank Mrs. Brainfart).  Well, before I go on, let me give you some back story.

About a month or so ago, I put in a press request for the Guns N’ Roses “reunion” show here in Atlanta at the Georgia Dome.  Now you might be asking yourself, “Don, why on Earth would you want to see Guns N’ Roses after you said some pretty gnarly shit about their last Atlanta show at the Tabernacle and their Coachella appearance?”  Well, here’s the thing.  Opinions can change and as a writer, I love to be challenged by bands.  If you didn’t blow me away or I just flat out thought you sucked, I more than welcome giving them the opportunity to try and prove me wrong.

About a week or so ago, I got an e-mail from Guns N’ Roses’ PR person (who by the way is a REALLY kick ass person and someone I love working with) confirming my press request.  I was very excited to see if they would prove me wrong and show me that Guns N’ Roses was indeed back to form and in great shape.  I had seen some clips of this tour online and I have to say that I was pretty fucking blown away.  I was really looking forward to seeing this show… until I received word that I my credentials had been denied based on the commentary I had posted previously. I have no hard feelings towards the PR person.  The PR person is merely the messenger and again, we have a great relationship that goes beyond this so I knew that it wasn’t her call.  My past write ups were snarky and opinionated but I’m a small time blogger from Atlanta! While I was really disappointed, some journalist friends said, in so many words, “Dude, you’re a success.  Guns N’ Roses (or at least their management) actually gave a fuck what you had to say.”

All of this got me thinking about other times where I had been “blacklisted” from shows.  It was because of the same reason: sharing my honest, snarky, asshole opinion.  Here’s the deal.  I’m sure there are things I could say nicer but c’mon, I’m a fucking writer who runs a metal blog.  I’m here to write and to entertain and it’s all part of my natural personality.  Those who know me personally know that the way I write truly is me.  I’m not a close minded jerk. I’m just a passionate and opinionated fan of bands.

If I wanted to, I could blow smoke up everyone’s asses and I could fluff the mighty egos of these people.  If I did, I would have no problems getting free tickets, free CDs, and other swag.  That’s not why I do this.  I do it because I have strong opinions and I want to share them with people who generally don’t get to hear this kind of brutal honestly from a publication. And I don’t get paid for this shit so I can say whatever the fuck I want.

While I understand that it might not be easy for all journalists to speak their unabridged opinions (this may be their livelihood), why do so many bands get butthurt to hear someone’s honest reviews?  I’ve seen this first hand.  They love you when you are praising them but the minute they put out something subpar or put on a bad show and you call them out for it, you are public enemy number 1.  You are a shitty nobody blogger and you are off the guest list.

At the end of it all, I still find it shocking that Guns N’ Roses or their people even care about what I have to say.  Most of all, I find it interesting that they weren’t willing to give the band an opportunity to prove me wrong.  Who knows?  Maybe I would’ve given it an awesome review.  Maybe I would’ve praised it and called it a contender for tour of the year.  Will I take back the things I said in the past?  Absolutely not.  Why?  Because at that moment in time, that was what I saw, that was what I heard, and that was what I felt. . That being said, I’m quite flattered that Guns N’ Roses even knows who I am.

Earlier this year, I attended a Sebastian Bach show here in Atlanta and gave a scathing (and deservedly so) review resulting in a literal war of words on The Great Southern Brainfart Facebook page that went on for a few days.  It received mainstream media coverage, Blabbermouth ran it, and it even made the morning radio show here in Atlanta.  Because I didn’t like his show, he physically threatened me, trolled my readers, and even trolled my photos on my Facebook page.

At the end of it all, Sebastian threatened me with this: “I will make sure you’re banned from every show here on out from Guns N’ Roses on down.  You will never get into another show.”  Well, since then I have covered numerous shows as press but  I did just get blocked from the Guns N’ Roses show.  So did it really happen?  Did Sebastian Bach actually poison the well?  Was I actually… BACH BLOCKED?  Hm.  If so, well played Sebastian.  Well played!