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New Barbarians,
Cobo Hall, Detroit, All .
This band was to be a once-in-a-lifetime
collection of rock superstars. Formed around
a nucleus of Rolling Stones Ron Wood and
Keith Richards, the Barbarians had repor
tedly asked the likes of Jimmy Page, Jeff
Beck, Neil Young and Mick Jagger to per
form with the group. -
It didn't really seem to matter when none
of these big names showed up for the concert
at Cobo Hall in Detroit. The New Barbar
ians, a makeshift band thrown together to
promote Ron Wood's new solo album, Gimme
Some Neck, didn't need help from anyone.
Performances by Wood and Richards on
guitar and Stanley Clarke on bass were out
standing as was the strong backing from
Bobby Keyes on sax, Ian MacLagan on
keyboards and Joe Modeliste on drums.
The band's stage material is almost exclu
sively Wood's, with just enough Stones cuts
thrown in to pacify demanding audiences.
After years of performing in the shadow of
Rod Stewart and the Stones, this is clearly
supposed to be Wood's show, although fre
quently upstaged by stunning performances
from Richards and Clarke.
Richards, the all-time bad boy of rock, was
in top form, trading licks with Wood in sizzl
ing guitar duels and jamming fiercely to
Clarke's incredibly fast bass. Already one of
the world's best bassists by any standards,
Clarke proves with the Barbarians that he
can rock & roll with anybody. With Wood
and Richards doing most of the singing, the
band's vocals were not particularly strong.
Wood's "Buried Alive" and "Seven Days"
(written by Bob Dylan) were particularly
outstanding, the former containing as much
raw electricity and power as anything the
Stones have done lately.
With Wood handling most of the vocals,
the band satisfied the Stones-hungry crowd
with Barbaric versions of four Rolling Stones
' songs, including "Honky Tonk Vomen" and
"Jumpin' Jack Flash," with Richards, Wood
and Clarke exploding into an electronic fury
on "Jack Flash" equal to any recorded ver
sion of that classic.
The New Barbarians, it has been said, is
less a real band than it is a performing adver
tisement for Wood's album. This is true. The
band will probably never perform together as
a unit once its current tour is completed. But
it's also irrelevant. The Barbarians play a
brand of all-out rock that puts most contem
porary rockers in the shade.
Brad Flory
Billy Joel, Cobo Hall,
Detroit, Michigan
Detroit is supposed to be a special place for
rock & roll. Someone associated with this
concert obviously agreed: Detroit was the
only city on Billy Joel's current tour that was
soaked $15 per ticket (obstructed view in
cluded). Led by the powerful drumming of Liberty
DeVito, Joel and his five-piece band pleased
the crowd with a greatest hits package,
mostly the faves and raves off Joel's latest
album 52nd Street, including "Stiletto" and
"Zanzibar."
And it all sounded "just like the record,"
according to one breathless concert-goer.
Indeed, the concert sound was one of the best
to ever grace the interior of Cobo Hall. Addi
tionally, the concert performance had the
rough edge essential to rock & roll- that
is often missing in Joel's records.
Joel pretended to be Sylvester Stallone and
faked punches at the audience between
songs. He also alternated between shaking
and stomping on the out-stretched hands of
the people in the first row.
Joel sang his songs, drank his beer, and
smiled at the audience, delivering something
to enjoy and nothing to think about. The
emotions of "Piano Man" and "Angry Young
Man" are gone, supplanted by pop fluff. One
sensed that Joel's aim was an audience so
pleased they would again shell out $15 a tic
ket in Detriot next year.
Walt Turowski
Leonard Nimqy in Vincent, Hartke
Theatre, Catholic University,
Washington, D.C.
At first blush, the story of Vincent van Gogh
must have been a very attractive dramatic
concept indeed for Leonard Nimoy, who not
only thrives on difficult roles as an actor but
also publishes his own poetry and photog
raphy from time to time. But the life of the
great painter was hardly a great drama in
itself: it was more like one long wave of pain,
without highlight or texture. Until the last
few weeks of his life not a single one of his
works was sold, nor did he find any
acceptance among critics or exhibitors. And
his expressive talents as a painter were com
plemented all too completely by his dismal
failures as a lover, friend, son and brother.
Vincent's brother Theo, played by Nimoy
in this solo show, recounts his experiences as
the painter's chief admirer, defender and
financial backer. Theo was an art dealef, at
once fascinated by Vincent's art and appalled
by his erratic behavior, constantly mediating
the running feud between Vincent and their
parents, and always frustrated by the pub
lic's refusal to buy. In fact, Theo grew so
obsessed with Vincent's situation that he
himself went insane and died only a few
months after Vincent died in his arms.
Nimoy's gruff Theo takes the stage by
storm, enraged by the latest critical barbs
clutched in his hand, venting half a lifetime of
vicarious frustration in the broken phrases of
a quiet man at war with his times. Nimoy's
utterly convincing portrayal is made a bit less
impressive by his use of Vincent's works on a
pair of large screens behind him, evoking the
overwhelmingly positive judgment of history.
Like a stacked deck.This production was just
a couple months' diversion for Nimoy after
he finished shooting the Sar Trek flick. But if
he takes it on the road again, don't miss it: the
story of the two brothers is much more than
the sum of its parts.
John Kraut
The Tubes
The Palladium, NYC
To put it as simply as possible, the Tubes are a
sensation with a show that, apparently con
sistently, exceeds the wildest hopes of heart
felt rock & rollers who dote on great players
and riveting visuals.
In 1975, when the Tubes first "caught on,"
they wowed audiences with hilarious jokes
and an unparalleled assortment of outrage
ous props, all of which compelled press
people to use phrases like "X-rated theatre-"
rock!" As their Palladium show proved, the
alarming theatrics served to underplay their
musical talents which, man for man, are
pretty amazing. Lead singer Fee Way bill
displays unrelenting energy, a wonderful
voice and spellbinding stage presence; syn
thesizer player Michael Cotton is an absolute
wizard; guitarists Roger Steen and Bill
Spooner lick like magicians and Vince Wel
nick plays screamingly tasteful keyboards.
And this is to say nothing of the rhythm sec
tion, bassist Rick Anderson and drummer
Prairie Prince. The one weak spot is, alas,
singer (and propgirl) Re Styles.
This time around, the Tubes, in an attempt
to countermand their theatrics-before-music
reputation, have deleted props and honed in
on cult favorites, letting the music stand
almost alone. Let no Tubes fan panic
smoke machines; rampaging TV sets; giant
cigarettes, hamburgers and cameras; girls'
dressed as Marlboro boxes and large pills;
costume changes and even a motorcycle
(used in the incomparable "Don't Touch Me
There") are intact.
The Tubes have triumphed in a potentially
risky renovation. Material from the latest
album, Remote Control, slides easily into the
show; witness the Rundgrenesque ballad,
"Love's a Mystery," performed with no theat
rics, and their recent 45 rpm release "Prime
Time"
There were a few disgruntled fans. One of
them, most certainly a White Punk on Dope,
shouted "Todd Rundgren sucks" over and
over in reference, one assumes, to Todd's
production work on Control, the Tubes' latest
LP. Some others just booed- and were
drowned out. - Alison Wickwire
The Doobie Brothers,
Allen Field House, Lawrence KS
When the Doobie Brothers kicked into their
set-ending "China Grove" 90 minutes after
the lights went down inside Lawrence's Allen
Field House, the audience was already in
overdrive. But when fireworks and flashpots
began exploding in 44 time with the song,
the crowd uncorked a 12,500-voice shriek
that could have been heard in Kansas City.
Led by guitarist Patrick Simmons and
keyboard player Michael McDonald, the
band opened with a five-song medley of early
hits, including a fuel-injected version of
"Long Train Runnin.' " The song featured
some stinging lead guitar trade-offs between
Simmons and new member John McFee, and
shot the audience to its feet for the first of
many times during the course of the evening.
The band proved early in the show that the'
addition of McFee, saxman Cornelius Bum
pus and drummer Chet McCracken more
than made up for the recent loss of guitarist
Jeff "Skunk" Baxter and drummer John
Hartman. The trio of new Doobies added a
versatility suited to the band's diverse style,
with Bumpus putting in some time on organ
and flute and McFee doing some inspired
violin and pedal-steel work.
Simmons, who has a big hand in most of
the band's all-out rockers, shook the rafters
more than once with his power chording and
driving rhythms. McDonald writes heavily
syncopated, chromatic tunes charged with
the same tensions that mark his vocals his
jazz and R5? B-influenced songs rounded out
the band's amazing diversity.
The band's newer material drew avid re
sponse. On three songs from their new album
Minute by Minute, the crowd broke into spon
taneous sing-alongs not only the choruses,
but the entire songs. "What a Fool Believes"
was the most popular of the new songs with
the album's title cut a close second.
When they finished playing "Listen to the
Music" for their second encore, the old and
new Doobies walked off the stage amid a
flurry of flying drumsticks and long-stemmed
roses.
Jeff Kious & Rick Jones