Roger Waters Concert Review
Roger Waters Concert Review
September 13th 2006, Madison Square Garden
Roger Waters, the eminent and internally tortured bassist and songwriter of Pink Floyd, descended on Madison Square Garden September 12th and 13th. After ponying up $80 at Ticketmaster, I was in the door for the show on the 13th. Billed as “The Dark Side of the Moon tour”, the format was a standardized two set affair in which a haphazard mix of Waters’ solo work and random Floyd tunes dominated the first set and the entire second set would be a performance of the Floyd classic. There is not much to write about Dark Side that has not already been said. Any album that stayed on the charts for more than 14 years is certainly epic enough to be named one of the best albums ever and all in attendance were there mainly to see this influential album performed live.
The crowd was an interesting mix: in front of me was a large family, in back of me were four grizzled New Jerseyites (the type who get into fistfights at the age of 40) and three seats down sat a 20-something professional couple. All have little in common, except a love for Dark Side and Pink Floyd, which meant that night, all were family. The preshow music belied Waters’ age with Chuck Berry, Elvis and Chubby Checker coming through the PA at Madison Square Garden- an interesting contrast to the psychedelic sounds we were about to experience. At 8:15pm sharp, the lights dimmed and Waters emerged to thunderous applause.
The video display was a massive screen set at the back of the stage but the light show was minimal, mostly fast color changes shot across the width of the stage to illuminate the band in a psychedelic array.
The strains of “In the Flesh” off The Wall began to fill the area, perhaps as a tongue in cheek signal to the crowd that Waters was actually there, in the flesh, and ready to amaze the sold out crowd. A high point of the first set was during “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” when, appropriately, images of recently departed Syd Barret as well as iconographic pictures of the band filled the video screen. Another highlight was a ferocious guitar solo by Snowy White during “Have a Cigar”. White’s prodigious talent shines through, and having played with Floyd throughout the 70’s, he is a great addition to this tour ensuring that the jams belted forth were contextual to the musical era in which the songs originated. “Have a Cigar” segued into “Wish You Were Here” and all of Madison Square Garden sung along in unison.
After this breathtaking high point, the needle came off the record, so to speak. Waters began singing a new song called “Perfect Sense” which was a spoken-word like tune about how killing begets killing and how money is the root cause to all of it. Included in this were pictures of Saddam Hussein, President Bush and Ronald Reagan all with their faces bruised. While that created some tension in the crowd, Waters exclaimed, “now is where it gets really controversial” and began narrating a story about his hitchhiking adventures in Lebanon during which a kind Arab family took him in and provided a hot meal and a place to sleep. He was so moved that it led him to write a song about it called “Leaving Beirut”.
During this song, as he sung, the lyrics and story were documented like a graphic novel on the video screen. However, he lost the crowd when he began to sing such lyrics as “don’t let the might of the Christian right, f**k it up for us all”. Plenty of boos competed with the cheers at the end of this song. Waters needs to take a clue from Bono about how to be politically active while on stage. The last song of the first set was “Sheep” which though played well, was a blatant effort to link his current political sensibilities (given the previous song) with those of Pink Floyd circa Animals. A neat touch was the massive pig that floated around the arena but, with the words “President Bush” painted over the buttocks of the pig, the coolness was dimmed by its obvious political leanings.
A quick 15 minute set break and Waters and crew, with surprise guest Floyd drummer Nick Mason, returned to an audience anticipating an experience unlike any other. Waters did not disappoint one iota on this front. Dark Side of the Moon was performed flawlessly and when I closed my eyes, years of experiences listening to this album came rushing back. I cannot emphasize how cohesive and watertight this part of the concert truly was and Waters’ voice sounded razor sharp. While Gilmour’s vocals were missed, his absence did not detract from the enjoyment. While there was not much improvisation, this, in my view, was a better scenario. Dark Side has become so ingrained in the musical subconscious, that any detractions, (even well intentioned jamming), would betray the vision and sheer genius of the original recording. The perfect time for jamming on Dark Side would have been Floyd’s reunion at Live 8 in 2005, not on Waters’ solo tour.
Not to be outdone, the encore held even more surprises. For “Another Brick in the Wall” ten members from the Boys & Girls Club of New York, resplendent in their "Fear Builds Walls" t-shirts, filled in for the English lads of yore and did a great job. Other encore treats included “Vera” and a spot-on rendition of “Comfortably Numb” to close out the show.
Even though Waters quit the band in the 80’s, he still has the chops, backing band and singers to perfectly replicate the magic that was Pink Floyd. Despite the politics, it easily was one of the best concerts I have ever seen and a rare chance to hear this epic music in the flesh.
Ben Harper Review
Ben Harper and the Innocent Criminals
September 5th 2006, Summerstage, New York City
By: Jeremy Willinger
Ben Harper and the Innocent Criminals always draw a crowd, and their two-day stint at Summerstage on September 5th and 6th in New York City’s Central Park was no exception. Crunchy NYU students, twenty something couples and former members of fraternities all over the northeast attended. I went to the September 5th show, under the threat of heavy rain, and while every seat in the bleachers was taken and a massive crowd gathered around the stage, there were free tickets offered outside the venue and no shortage of extras for those who wandered over looking for a miracle.
Harper and company have a knack for distilling regional sounds down to their essence- southern rock, reggae beats and African percussion come to mind, but they are also adept at interweaving these forms of musical expression into a sound that is identifiable and enjoyed by all. Taking the stage at 7:30pm, precisely as advertised, BHIC launched into a rocking “Faded” with a fantastic 6+ minute guitar solo by Michael Ward that could have been mistaken for Warren Haynes if one closed their eyes. This classic track from his 1997 album, The Will to Live is a great opener to get the crowd ready and excited. The cheering had barely died down when he launched into the title track from his new album, Both Sides of the Gun. This poignant song is blatant in its message, with Harper crooning, “we don't know quite what this is, other than a war that can't be won”. Harper is never one to shy away from his putting his feelings into song, and if “Both Sides…” was not conspicuous enough, a new song, “Black Rain”, includes such lyrics as “You left them swimming for their lives/ Down in New Orleans/ This government business is straight up sadistic.” BHIC is a perfect band to perform songs of condemnation- with Harper’s voice straining to push his emotions out and into the collective mind of the audience and his band’s soothing melodies and perfect timing as a showcase. He is everything Lenny Kravitz wishes he could be.
Harper and the Criminals worked through other tracks off the new album such as “Please Don’t Talk About Murder While I’m Eating”, “Get it Like You Like It” and “Waiting for You”. All did not deviate from Harper’s soulful sound that all have come to recognize. Other first set favorites included “Steal My Kisses”, “Diamonds on the Inside” and “With My Own Two Hands”, the latter of which closed out his only full set of the evening.
Returning for his first of two encores, Ben Harper came out for a quick solo set and began with the moving “Another Lonely Day”. What distinguished this performance, was Harper throwing down the microphone and yelling the lyrics into the damped crowd. This not only highlighted Harper’s extraordinary vocals but also personalized the performance, as the audience soaked up the experience silently. The three-song encore ended with “Where Could I Go”, a wonderful song for anyone going through heartbreak, still lovely after its 1993 debut.
Harper brought back the Innocent Criminals at 9pm for the second and final encore, covering Neil Young’s epic “Heart of Gold” as their first song and going through crowd favorites as “Burn One Down” and “Please Me Like You Want To”. The show ended with their new single “Better Way”, an upbeat and optimistic conclusion to an evening that despite a brief downpour proves that not all music has lost its direction and that truly, we all believe in a better way.
The Freemont Street Experience
Last time I was in Las Vegas, already a destination I hold as the pantheon of lowbrow culture, I decided to take in “The Freemont Street Experience”. Freemont street is home of the original casinos, like Binion’s Horseshoe and the famous Golden Nugget. However, as Vegas expanded and the new Strip was formed, Freemont Street was passed over and the surrounding environs became dilapidated and festered with the type of people who have criminal records and are proud of it- almost like Atlantic City but without the ocean.
To compensate for Vegas eclipsing the need for this area of town and what was I am sure a hemorrhaging of money and hotel guests, the 10+ casinos still in business built a massive LCD canopy over Freemont street and designated it a pedestrian mall. The LCD screen is impressive, easily 50 feet off the ground and over 200 feet long with enough speakers to make one go deaf.
Seeing as how it was Saturday night, I thought a good outfit would be in order. Plus I didn’t know if I wanted to go out after Freemont street and decided to go the extra distance with my ensemble. I chose my new pair of Loomstate jeans, constructed out of organic cotton made from sustainable farms in dark indigo denim. I had not worn these before and to say they were tight is an understatement. In fact, they constricted my ability to have children for the next two years. No belt was needed, of course. On top, I settled on a wispy yellow linen button down from John Varvatos. While the fabric was a bit sheer, it was comfortable and perfect for a light breeze, should I encounter one. I gelled my hair, slid on my great John Varvatos slip ons, and was out the door.
To get to Freemont street from my hotel on the strip, I decided to save some cash and do what most New Yorkers would appreciate- take public transportation. Getting on the bus was not much of a big deal and I purchased a fun pass that would allow a round trip for only $5. The bus driver was an overly portly gentleman with the kind of resigned look on his face that let you know he had been doing the job for too long and grew tired of it years ago. I grabbed a seat on the second floor of the double decker bus and we started slowly moving down the strip, crawling along at 5 mph given the traffic of Saturday night.
I was trying to catch the 10pm show at Freemont street so the slow pace began to become irritating as we inched along and pedestrians strolled by the bus as if it were standing still…which for the most part we were. After about 20 minutes, yelling erupted from the downstairs part of the bus. From what I could gather, an older man had taken issue with something the bus driver did and began railing about his younger years as a bus driver and something about the younger generation “having no respect”. While I agreed with the older man on that point, the motley crew of people on the bus seemed to enjoy it when the bus driver exchanged insults over the loudspeaker and then kicked the older man off the bus at the Wynn casino. Settling back into my seat, it was not 10 minutes later when a flurry of angry Spanish began emanating from downstairs. I know the difference between angry Spanish and friendly Spanish and this did not seem like it would end up with hugs and rainbows. One woman began yelling in English, bellowing “that is my seat you nasty b**ch” and then more melodic Spanish and I distinctly heard a word that is not to be repeated. With that, the other side of this argument began threatening, “Ill slap your mouth, ill slap you right in the mouth”. The aggressor was summarily kicked off the bus, much to my relief and everyone else’s disappointment, but she did take the opportunity, once outside the bus, to slap her own rear and give us the bird.
Driving further, the streets became less well lit, and the only business on either side of the street were motels (many renting by the day and hour), wedding chapels- including the drive through wedding chapel I had read about, and Bail Bonds places. They were all so close together that I could envision a woman bailing out her boyfriend, waiting for the bail bonds man drop him off at the chapel and then for the happy couple to adjoin a nearby motel for some wedding night bliss and a vibrating bed where they would conceive a future criminal.
Thankfully, no more bouts of pugilism initiated on the bus and we arrived at Freemont Street. Once there, the bus driver gave decent instructions about where to find the bus for the return trip. I disembarked and noticed that a lot of the surrounding area was quiet. A parking garage was to my left but I did see people stumbling down the block to my right and followed the crowd. Entering Freemont Street, I knew I had made a mistake of grave proportions. The crowd seemed…angry. There was a palpable tension in the air, as if all that was needed was one opportunity or one more beer for an eruption to occur. It was mostly bikers in leather jackets and pants, peroxide blond women with too small shirts, families with matching tattoos, and ghetto teenagers yelling and smoking cheap cigars. I also realized that the next bus was not going to come back for another hour so I might as well enjoy the Freemont street experience of the LCD show and see about gambling a bit at the Golden Nugget.
I grabbed a Coors Light and walked to the exact middle point of Freemont Street. As I got there, the lights of the casinos went dark and the LCD screen fired up. It was neat to see an entire strip of casinos shut off their garish lighting and hearing the music fire up welcoming people to Freemont Street. Out of the several shows that they project on the LCD screen, I of course, was there for American Freedom which celebrated everything America. I thought I would see people lined up for an all you can eat buffet on the LCD screen and maybe a digitized Paris Hilton waving to the peons below but it was all prairies, mountains, the Blue Angels, the space shuttle and a mighty eagle swooping around. I felt like a total dipstick in a sea of jingoistic, love your country hate the French mindset. Perhaps I would have been more tapped in, but the graphics were not that good. For a country who are used to movies made entirely on the computer and video game graphics approaching photo-realism, this display felt decidedly 1994. The pixels were not sharp and the circles had square edges. I was bored. The show ended with a billowing American flag running the whole way down the screen, and whooping and hollering from the crowd. I know I heard at least one “U-S-A, U-S-A”. The lights came back on in a flourish and everyone got in line for another drink at the many bars.
When the lights came on and I began walking to the Golden Nugget, knowing I had another half hour, I began to catch “the eyes”. These eyes came from most everyone on the street. They said “who is this little queer?” or, more sinister, “I would love to beat him up and take his money”. Perhaps the fact that I could speak a little French would help my case. No, probably not. What about if I told would-be assailants I had been to Per Se in Manhattan and had the tasting menu (which was divine)…also, odds are, a big no.
I strolled into the Golden Nugget and immediately saw a woman who had about two teeth with which to masticate her food shrieking about her recent loss at a 25-cent slot machine. How she balanced her Kool cigarette in her mouth, I will never know. I made an immediate about face and walked briskly back to the bus stop.
The bus came soon after I got there and the driver, who couldn’t have been over 23, launched us away from the curb heading back to the strip. En route, he got on the microphone and announced “ok so you are on my bus, the pimp bus, and I like making fun of people. So I am going to turn on the outside speaker and we can all have a good laugh”. The crowd seemed into it. Driving by a group of guys outside the Stratosphere, he yelled “hey Brokeback mountain, are you guys gonna have some fun later?” The bus passengers erupted into howls. A woman whispered to her kid “that means those guys are gays”. Slowing down to pick up a group of Mexican’s in clothes suggesting they had been working construction jobs all day, they stood up anticipating the doors of the bus opening. The driver swerved away from the curb at the last minute and yelled through the speaker “no habla espanol, too bad”. More howls from the bus passengers. This scene repeated itself, with other gems such as “hey cuties, I am single and I drive a bus” to groups of women. When people got off, they told the driver he was “hilarious” and “we should just stay on the bus all night”. Mercifully 40 minutes later, I had come to my stop on the strip and once on the sidewalk watched as the bus lurched away, with more proclamations coming out of the speakers, fading into the warm desert night.
My experience at Freemont Street was not the Freemont Street experience, but thankfully, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas and I was content to get back to my life in the Big Apple.
