Guns n' Roses, 'No Trickery! An Evening of Destruction' -- Live Review
Today's review comes courtesy of regular poster HIM. If you'd like to share a show review, email me at allyson@bringbackglam.com.
REVIEW: Guns N’ Roses, No Trickery! An Evening of Destruction, The Joint at the Hard Rock Hotel, Las Vegas, NV, March 31, 2014.
Let me start with some sketches of the locale for those of you not familiar with this venue. The hotel/casino is what one would expect: Ed Hardy meets Affliction meets disposable incomes and, from the looks of it, hourly girlfriends. Cramped and muggy after a near-100 degree day, the Hard Rock is best envisioned as a hallway leading to The Joint, not a destination unto itself (especially in Vegas).
Capable of fitting 4,500 people (and packed that night with nearly that many from the looks of it), the sight-lines, acoustics, and layout of The Joint are an object lesson in good design. No seat is farther than 150 feet from the stage and most offer unobstructed views. In fact, a view from the balconies or the seating and standing areas along the sides of the upper floors rivals the view from the ground floor/general admission area. Bars are easy to locate, bathrooms are clean, and the staff were—to the one—helpful and polite. Walking into The Joint was like sloughing off the hair mud and spray tan stank of the hotel.
Settling into our seats, my friends and I were joking about when this concert would actually begin (the late/scheduled 11:45pm start was no issue for us). As the clock ticked closer to midnight my friends started suggesting a plate of humble pie. It was I, after all, who had defended the Axl Rose Road Show as of late (not having seen this version): puffier, but dependable, the 52 year old Rose made it to concerts on time, sang well, and played for more than two hours.
Fate intervened on my side as, just close to midnight, the lights dimmed. In the near dark, the band assembled on stage to blast out “Chinese Democracy.” This was followed quickly by—as many YouTube videos show is the routine—guitarist Ashba teasing out the licks to “Welcome to the Jungle” several times, with Rose then belting out with near perfection that wail that signals the beginning of the song and the frenzy that follows. But that wasn’t the most amazing thing about the start of the show. Standing there on the stage where Stinson (former and current Replacements bassist) should have been was a tall, scruffy, shaggy blonde vision of the past: Duff McKagan! With my jaw slowly placed back where it belonged, the rest of the evening was amazing for a variety of reasons.
As I suggested, the acoustics in this place don’t hide what is going on on stage. I would hate to be a band with less to give because it would be more than noticeable in The Joint. Guns N’ Roses weren’t that band, regardless of what haters treated to phone grab photos and tinny iPhone audio-and-video captures would like or want to believe. They put on an amazingly tight and energetic show that went on for two-and-a-half hours.
Axl might not cut as many manic semi-circles as he moves across the stage anymore. But he cuts them nonetheless. He tosses the mic/mike back and forth between his hands like a pro, stomps his leg like a dog getting scratched, and even manages that odd “sailor line-dancing” move from days of old. Who cares though? What about the voice? In a word: incredible. Whether a function of a few days—and a bit of weight—off, or the “jams/solos” that were liberally sprinkled throughout the set, or the base-camp foundation of a residency, Axl rarely sounded like anything but Axl (and I mean that in a good way). He was hitting notes during that first hour that made me fear for the encore. Not to worry. He came out mid-way through the show and launched into “Catcher in the Rye,” another song from the overly dissed Chinese Democracy. It sounded a bit “meh.” No worries again. By mid-song, he had ramped the damn thing back up and was well on his way to utterly demolishing “You Should Be Mine,” replete with Terminator imagery on the hi-def screens behind him and on both sides of the stage.
The rest of the band? Tight and focused, with only one really noticeable slip during “Patience” (which Rose, in one of his rare moments of talking to the audience, duly noted). Lead/rhythm guitarist Thal, looking as one might expect, managed to gain attention without detracting from the star(s) on the stage, playing with clear skill and flair. Stinson (a former supporting act for and later member of The Psychedelic Furs) played the role of rhythm guitarist like a pro, stepping up for a flourish or two while showing a sense of the stage that he has gained in the twelve years being with the band. Ferrer, who has played with Fortus in several bands, had just the right amount of slam and style to approximate Sorum and Adler. We aren’t looking for Peart, are we? Keyboardists Reed and Pitman, also decade-plus members, showed real skill, with Reed in particular justifying why he has hung around for so long. Lead guitarist Ashba (ex-Beautiful Creatures, Sixx:A.M.)? He is no slouch. He knows how to create the sounds one wants to hear. But Ashba felt out of place, occasionally mugging for the crowd as if they were there for him and dressed, as is typical, like a tornado blew through Hot Topic and then vomited on him.
Those jams/solos, something I feared would take away from the show? There were a lot of them (eight by my count). But they only occasionally felt excessive, helped (I assume) keep Axl in fine voice, and were at times surprisingly enjoyable: the Reed piano solo, with a strong backing beat by Ferrer, was actually an object lesson in instrumental power and feeling; the jam of Zeppelin’s “Babe, I’m Gonna’ Leave You” was a perfect bridge into, and way to set the stage for, “November Rain” . . . featuring a dollop of Elton John tinkling as a riser lifted Axl off the center stage and led to one of the stronger performances of the evening. In fact, the only flat solo was Ashba’s (another riser ride, this one behind the drums). He needs to watch Thal or Fortus and crib some lessons in scope and context from them. Really, the lil’ Slash hat doesn’t endear you to the fans. And you are far too talented to act like you are the reason people are in the audience. A nod to humility in a review of Guns N’ Roses? Yeah, I went there.
The other highlights for me? “It’s So Easy” with McKagan standing behind Axl and helping with backing vocals. McKagan leading the band in the cover of Iggy and The Stooges “Raw Power.” The powerful delivery of Illusion-era classics like “Don’t Cry” and “Civil War” later in the set. And most impressively—amidst the fog, the fire, the lasers, the strippers (yes, strippers and their poles), and the engorged confetti cannons that signaled the finale—the fact that Axl and the band sounded as good launching into “Chinese Democracy” as they did concluding with a crowd-thrashing “Paradise City.”
Granted, this isn’t a set that they change up too often these days, replacing one or two classics and one or two covers every now and again (this night’s cover of The Who’s “The Seeker” can easily become AC/DC’s “Riff Raff” another night). I don’t begrudge them that. It’s like casting stones in a world of stable (some would say atrophied) set lists by a host of band, many of whom couldn’t pull off a show of this length and power today.
This isn’t the Guns N’ Roses many people want. But this is the Guns N’ Roses that we get. There was “no trickery” in Axl’s impressive performance. The band didn’t act like they were punching a clock. In fact, I barely noticed that the other "classic" members weren’t there to round out the 2/5 that were. That says something. Leaving the show, I have a new degree of respect for what Guns N’ Roses are doing. They are keeping a legacy alive; moreover, they are respecting that history as well. Whether they make new music or not, Guns N’ Roses were—at least this night—Guns N’ Roses. No qualifications needed.