Showing posts with label portland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label portland. Show all posts

December 3, 2012

Bound for Glory

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band
Rose Garden Arena
November 28, 2012

(Top and bottom photos by Mary Layton, center photo by Eric Layton; click to enlarge)
"I said this train...dreams will not be thwarted...this train...faith will be rewarded!" assured Bruce Springsteen in his concert opener, "Land of Hope and Dreams." In a world where trials, tribulations, and loss are too commonplace, this New Jersey hero and his music continue to summon a gravitational pull of encouragement. There have been inspirational figures throughout history—beacons of light that remind us to persevere. It's in this archetypal position that Springsteen finds himself; as his legend deepens over the years, and as newer generations are drawn to his communal uplift through strife-scarred yet hopeful anthems and songs of unabashed joy, it is difficult to name a peer of his not only doing what he does, but doing it so smashingly. At the Rose Garden, facing another screaming multitude that is just another day's work, "The Boss" lived up to his almost saint-like expectations, delivering over three hours of hope, reflection, and fun.


Touring in support of their new album Wrecking Ball amid an election year, the Jersey Shore-devastating hurricane Sandy, and continuing economic turmoil, Springsteen and the E Street Band (guitarists Stevie Van Zandt and Nils Lofgren, drummer Max Weinberg, pianist Roy Bittan, bassist Garry Tallent) honored their mission and recognized their fallen brothers, saxophonist Clarence Clemons and keyboardist Danny Federici. And as Springsteen's lyrics often remind, no one walks alone, so 11 additional musicians were on hand, including Clemons' talented sax-playing nephew Jake, to help raise spirits and the roof.

With the large head count onstage, not to mention the high amount of energy exchanged between the audience and the performers on this night, it must be observed that Springsteen's concerts, taken historically, just don't achieve parity with this 2012 show. That's not at all to say this is the best tour he's done, it's just that the current Springsteen live experience is a vastly different, more immense animal than in the past. It is a more frequently joyous communion now, in contrast to earlier periods where the reliable rock n' roll party was often acutely tempered by a purposeful, singular, and serious vision being telegraphed from the stage: there was the prove-it-all-night, walk-on-tables seaside bar band era; his redemptive mid-1970s arena takeover after Born to Run; his college auditorium tour for Darkness on the Edge of Town, an album born out of creative and legal struggles; his mercenary Born in the U.S.A. global takeover; his dark, contemplative solo tours behind Ghost of Tom Joad and Devils & Dust; his E Street reunion tour/rock n' roll revival of 1999-2000; his solemn post-9-11 trek forThe Rising; the Seeger Sessions Band folk hoedown; and the late-2000s Magic tour which, while expectedly euphoric at turns, at certain points dutifully referenced stacked bodies of war dead and "the bitter fires of the devil's arcade."


In 2012, Springsteen could have understandably turned the gloom dial to 11 in response to our times, and particularly due to the landscape-altering death of the larger-than-life Clemons, whose absence onstage, and how Bruce would address it, weighed mightily on every fan as they anticipated the E Street Band's future. An answer to this came on this night during "My City of Ruins," a gospel-tinted number where Bruce asked us all to remember our dearly departed, and, to stirring effect, he turned the Clemons-referencing lyric from another song, "The change was made uptown..." into a brief mantra. Ultimately, a pair of spotlights shone down on empty spaces that both Clemons and Federici once filled. It was a heart-rending moment that urged healing and gave both the entire Bruce juggernaut and his audience permission to live on and move on, if for nothing else to honor the dead.

Indeed, life and movement were in order here, with many exhilarating sing-alongs (a brisk "No Surrender," the swelling, horn-driven "Spirit in the Night," the insistent "Badlands"), fresh new material (the punchy reminder "We Take Care of Our Own," the Irish folk stomper "Death to My Hometown"), and the pensive, solo-Bruce highlight "If I Should Fall Behind." The Wrecking Ball ballad "Jack of All Trades" found Springsteen singing "There's a new world coming, I can see the light/I'm a jack of all trades, we'll be alright," lyrics that distill the man's entire ethos in short order.


And any air of separation between fans and artist? Left at the door. Springsteen crowd-surfed during "Hungry Heart," and when he wasn't literally playing Santa Claus and wearing a red hat (the seasonal imperative has them playing "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town"), provided Santa-like wish fulfillment to several lucky fans by heeding song request signs (The River-era songs "Drive All Night" and "Loose Ends" were the finest of these) and by pulling a virtual Courtney Cox dance troupe onstage during "Dancing in the Dark"; it's a safe bet that Cox could have never predicted that her awkward dancing with Bruce in a music video would still be reenacted 28 years later.

The E Street Band origin story "Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out" ended the show with the Boss on a center-arena catwalk and a dramatic pause/video tribute to Clemons prior to Springsteen's famous shout-out, "When the change was made uptown/And the Big Man joined the band..." Big Man is no longer onboard, but this train is still racing toward glory.

November 2, 2008

Broken, Beat and Scarred


Metallica/Down/The Sword
Rose Garden Arena Portland, OR
November 1

"What don't KILL YA makes ya more strong!" sang frontman James Hetfield during Metallica's pummeling metal avalanche in Portland. Older, wiser and returning from the edge of near-implosion with their new song cycle Death Magnetic, the leonine singer, drummer Lars Ulrich, axeman Kirk Hammett and bassist Rob Trujillo summoned the thunder and rode the lightning for two merciless hours.
While deafening ovations and arena-wide, synchronized fist-pumping were the norm, you can mainly credit timeless, male adolescent angst and Metallica's mere presence for that. Metallica, three decades in, is a tad predictable, especially for longtime fans. The guitars? Thrashing and speedy. The drums? Precise and insistent. The amps? Loud. The bass player? Inaudible. The surprises of today's Metallica mainly reside in eye-popping stage effects (the dancing lasers and multi-hued flames were undeniably impressive) and their well-advised dusting off of deep cuts in concert.
After opening with the hell-bound speed-coaster of Death Magnetic's "That Was Just Your Life," the band leapt right into the spiraling grind of "The End of the Line." Clearly, finality is on Metallica's mind these days. With a resurrection like the one they experienced after their near-breakup and almost universally despised last record, St. Anger , it's no wonder.
With a building full of forgiving, cross-generational fans fueling them, the metal legends thrashed away at songs both dusty and shiny, giving the house a fairly representative sampling of their songbook. Shockingly, only a single song from consensus favorite album Master of Puppets was performed (the title cut), but their previous effort Ride The Lightning was mined repeatedly with the truly unexpected title track, the ominous "For Whom the Bell Tolls" and the vicious yet most welcome "Fight Fire with Fire," which boasted the evening's most spectacular flame effects.
Throughout, Hetfield was in strong voice and displayed remarkable energy, headbanging and stomping about the in-the-round stage. Ulrich was metronomic in his drumming, reliable yet less spectacular to watch than when he was a seemingly eight-armed younger man. Meanwhile, Hammett and Trujillo were on point, plucking and slashing through riff-bombs like "No Remorse," "Sad But True," the latest single "The Day That Never Comes" and, at the encore, the covers "Last Caress" and "Stone Cold Crazy." Three decades on, and a shoo-in for a Rock And Roll Hall of Fame induction next year, Metallica may be broken, beat and scarred, to paraphrase one of their new tunes, but they die hard.
Opening this major concussion of an evening was The Sword, a gang of longhairs that offered a fleet, hair-toss-worthy brand of thrash that recalled early Metallica. After The Sword was run through the Rose Garden, the quite intimidating Down, fronted by ex-Pantera singer Phil Anselmo, offered a slower, sludgier brand of metal that gradually won the crowd over, big time. It didn't hurt that Pantera's bass player was also onstage, nor that a tribute to the defunct band's late Dimebag Darrell was included. Perhaps the most striking thing about Down's set was Anselmo's very noticeable evolution from Pantera's drunk, belligerent junkie to what looked to be a clean-cut, thinner Glenn Danzig. The deep-voiced menace, while still a badass, now exudes a gracious, humble bearing towards his fans, bowing down to them and applauding them throughout the show. Who says metal is a dead-end road? If Anselmo has a new lease on life, there's hope for us all.