My first post on this blog might as well be a gig report. No reason why not, right? My blog, my rules!
The Catalyst looks like any other bar/club from the street but inside it's pretty huge. Two levels and a full bar and an arcade. Could use more bathrooms. Griffitti everywhere. Old wood panneling. Looks like this place has been around for a while.
The opening band, Zen Vendetta, was pure 80s hair glory: cheesy, but heartfelt and sincere. Their singer was clearly excited that they were opening for Cornell, and he said so repeatedly. I enjoyed them: it's thrashy, head-bangy goodness and they're clearly rock romantics of the very oldest school. It's hard not to love some dudes who believe so fully in what they are doing, and have made peace with living according to old rules, their eyes firmly fixed on an old dream. They strut and pose and sing like rock gods, and then they cart all their own gear offstage, reduced to mortals again.
I didn't really know what to expect from Cornell, live. He's been pulling a kind of singer-songwriter shtick lately which I don't think really fits him: his songwriting chops are respectable and he's a lyricist of haunting power, but he's not a singer-songwriter, he's a frontman, and like any frontman, he needs a solid band behind him in order to thrive. I had this image in my head of an self-indulgent singer mugging for the cameras while everyone else thoughtfully avoids the spotlight.
I didn't need to worry: It might have been called "Chris Cornell" but it was everyone's night. This band was clearly a real band: they fed off each other and everyone got their moments in the spotlight. The guitarist pulled off some crazy stuff playing his ax in midair and leaping off the platforms, his band mates, even Chris at one point, who retaliated by stealing the guy's bowler hat. The drum kit was behind some sort of clear plastic barrier, I guess to protect it? Or to counteract the fact that it was so loud. It was definitely huge: I didn't catch more then a glimpse of the drummer until he walked out at the end to throw his sticks. The rhythum guitarist had a black emo-kid haircut and was playing a beautiful golden Gibson: he wasn't as flashy as the lead (didn't leap off anything either), but he held his own in a nifty dueling-solos segment. The bassist was short and bald and was making metal GRR faces the entire time, even when first Chris, then one of the roadies, then the rythem guitarist came over to fiddle with his bass, which was, apparently, not working right. Or maybe he was just miffed, not metal. The keyboardist was a young bald black man with a big smile and a tuxedo t-shirt: he was working that keyboard with as much stage flair as if HE were the big star. He was also the primary back-up singer; he had a very strong voice.
As for Chris Cornell: his entire band had taken the stage, hammed it up for the audience and donned their instruments before he showed up. My first impression was he didn't look that good. He's a sinewy guy: you can see all the veins in his neck and arms, his curly hair was kinda limp and he looked tired. The opening song wasn't one I recognized (probably off one of his solo albums) but the second was "You Know My Name" and that was his REAL introduction. After that he was noticably looser. And he has a very easy sort of banter with a crowd: making fun of us for not drinking ("Only a few beers...but from the smell in the air, you're hitting something else." He was right; it was Santa Cruz after all) and setting up a raport with someone in the very front row who was holding up request signs with the names of obscure b-sides on them. "We got about half of those...one more maybe....I don't even remember how THAT one goes. But I guess it's a good thing when your career lasts long enough you gotta relearn shit you wrote." He held one of the papers aloft: GUN was written on it. Later in the show he and the band played the chorus of that song, just off the cuff. That was fun.
Around halfway through the show he said he wanted to introduce a special friend of his: her name was Kaylee and she was very despointed when the Tulson show was canceled because of a "glass-covered football got stuck in my throat and I couldn't sing. I don't know how it got in there". He told everyone it was Kaylee's birthday tomorrow, "she is turning ten years old! And we're gonna sing her happy birthday....but not us professional singing people, no, YOU are gonna sing her happy birthday!"
The Kaylee was a little blonde girl up on the balcony who was hiding her face in her hands and turning bright red. Her mom was smiling and rubbing her back.
Chris started singing "happy birthday," then held the microphone over the crowd. So we sang. The girl was brilliant red but smiling like a maniac.
Once that was over, Cornell said; "She claimed she didn't have a favorite song, but I finally got one out of her." And he sang it, alone, with his acoustic. I recognized it as an Audioslave song, I think it was "The Last Fading Light" but I wouldn't swear by it. I will swear by the fact that it was the best his voice sounded that night. He put extra effort into that one. Maybe having kids of his own has made a softy out of the old grunge lord. Or maybe it's a cynical bid at emotional minipulation. Or maybe that's thinking about it too much.
The whole group just seemed to be having fun. The band, Chris, everyone was just having such a good time rocking out that it's hard not to get sucked in. The group was clearly on an even keel performance-wise and they where THRILLED; with eachother, with how they were doing, with us for cheering at all the right times. The guitarists kept throwing guitar picks into the crowd, causing a frenzy as people scrambled for them.
I remember watching that in dismay going "the only way I am getting one of those is if one actually crashes into me." And then something sharp and plastic hit my shoulder. So I got my pick. Then, I noticed something shiney in a beer puddle by my foot. So i got another pick. Then I found another on the ground. And...yeah, I ended up with five picks. I gave one to my friend who gave me a ride to the gig, and one to the lady in the plether nurse's outfit whose boot had been on one after the concert was over. Great karma for someone just learning to play guitar!
It wasn't a gig to change the world, and but it was a blast to attend. Cornell is a hell of a performer and his band is great fun, and....Yeah. It was just a good time. A real good time. Spreading good vibes!
Hope to catch him again sometime. See him if you can!
The Catalyst looks like any other bar/club from the street but inside it's pretty huge. Two levels and a full bar and an arcade. Could use more bathrooms. Griffitti everywhere. Old wood panneling. Looks like this place has been around for a while.
The opening band, Zen Vendetta, was pure 80s hair glory: cheesy, but heartfelt and sincere. Their singer was clearly excited that they were opening for Cornell, and he said so repeatedly. I enjoyed them: it's thrashy, head-bangy goodness and they're clearly rock romantics of the very oldest school. It's hard not to love some dudes who believe so fully in what they are doing, and have made peace with living according to old rules, their eyes firmly fixed on an old dream. They strut and pose and sing like rock gods, and then they cart all their own gear offstage, reduced to mortals again.
I didn't really know what to expect from Cornell, live. He's been pulling a kind of singer-songwriter shtick lately which I don't think really fits him: his songwriting chops are respectable and he's a lyricist of haunting power, but he's not a singer-songwriter, he's a frontman, and like any frontman, he needs a solid band behind him in order to thrive. I had this image in my head of an self-indulgent singer mugging for the cameras while everyone else thoughtfully avoids the spotlight.
I didn't need to worry: It might have been called "Chris Cornell" but it was everyone's night. This band was clearly a real band: they fed off each other and everyone got their moments in the spotlight. The guitarist pulled off some crazy stuff playing his ax in midair and leaping off the platforms, his band mates, even Chris at one point, who retaliated by stealing the guy's bowler hat. The drum kit was behind some sort of clear plastic barrier, I guess to protect it? Or to counteract the fact that it was so loud. It was definitely huge: I didn't catch more then a glimpse of the drummer until he walked out at the end to throw his sticks. The rhythum guitarist had a black emo-kid haircut and was playing a beautiful golden Gibson: he wasn't as flashy as the lead (didn't leap off anything either), but he held his own in a nifty dueling-solos segment. The bassist was short and bald and was making metal GRR faces the entire time, even when first Chris, then one of the roadies, then the rythem guitarist came over to fiddle with his bass, which was, apparently, not working right. Or maybe he was just miffed, not metal. The keyboardist was a young bald black man with a big smile and a tuxedo t-shirt: he was working that keyboard with as much stage flair as if HE were the big star. He was also the primary back-up singer; he had a very strong voice.
As for Chris Cornell: his entire band had taken the stage, hammed it up for the audience and donned their instruments before he showed up. My first impression was he didn't look that good. He's a sinewy guy: you can see all the veins in his neck and arms, his curly hair was kinda limp and he looked tired. The opening song wasn't one I recognized (probably off one of his solo albums) but the second was "You Know My Name" and that was his REAL introduction. After that he was noticably looser. And he has a very easy sort of banter with a crowd: making fun of us for not drinking ("Only a few beers...but from the smell in the air, you're hitting something else." He was right; it was Santa Cruz after all) and setting up a raport with someone in the very front row who was holding up request signs with the names of obscure b-sides on them. "We got about half of those...one more maybe....I don't even remember how THAT one goes. But I guess it's a good thing when your career lasts long enough you gotta relearn shit you wrote." He held one of the papers aloft: GUN was written on it. Later in the show he and the band played the chorus of that song, just off the cuff. That was fun.
Around halfway through the show he said he wanted to introduce a special friend of his: her name was Kaylee and she was very despointed when the Tulson show was canceled because of a "glass-covered football got stuck in my throat and I couldn't sing. I don't know how it got in there". He told everyone it was Kaylee's birthday tomorrow, "she is turning ten years old! And we're gonna sing her happy birthday....but not us professional singing people, no, YOU are gonna sing her happy birthday!"
The Kaylee was a little blonde girl up on the balcony who was hiding her face in her hands and turning bright red. Her mom was smiling and rubbing her back.
Chris started singing "happy birthday," then held the microphone over the crowd. So we sang. The girl was brilliant red but smiling like a maniac.
Once that was over, Cornell said; "She claimed she didn't have a favorite song, but I finally got one out of her." And he sang it, alone, with his acoustic. I recognized it as an Audioslave song, I think it was "The Last Fading Light" but I wouldn't swear by it. I will swear by the fact that it was the best his voice sounded that night. He put extra effort into that one. Maybe having kids of his own has made a softy out of the old grunge lord. Or maybe it's a cynical bid at emotional minipulation. Or maybe that's thinking about it too much.
The whole group just seemed to be having fun. The band, Chris, everyone was just having such a good time rocking out that it's hard not to get sucked in. The group was clearly on an even keel performance-wise and they where THRILLED; with eachother, with how they were doing, with us for cheering at all the right times. The guitarists kept throwing guitar picks into the crowd, causing a frenzy as people scrambled for them.
I remember watching that in dismay going "the only way I am getting one of those is if one actually crashes into me." And then something sharp and plastic hit my shoulder. So I got my pick. Then, I noticed something shiney in a beer puddle by my foot. So i got another pick. Then I found another on the ground. And...yeah, I ended up with five picks. I gave one to my friend who gave me a ride to the gig, and one to the lady in the plether nurse's outfit whose boot had been on one after the concert was over. Great karma for someone just learning to play guitar!
It wasn't a gig to change the world, and but it was a blast to attend. Cornell is a hell of a performer and his band is great fun, and....Yeah. It was just a good time. A real good time. Spreading good vibes!
Hope to catch him again sometime. See him if you can!
