Post by Sully on Sept 7, 2005 9:28:07 GMT -5
Here's a review of the Vancouver show that I really enjoyed reading. I'm not sure whether anyone posted it so here's the full text. The link follows the article.
www.straight.com/content.cfm?id=12562
Concert Reviews
Concert Reviews Archives
Garbage makes a charismatic connection
By Mike Usinger
Publish Date: 1-Sep-2005
At the Commodore on Tuesday, August 30
Talk is cheap, but that didn’t stop Garbage’s Shirley Manson from spouting off at the Commodore on Tuesday. The diminutive Scottish dynamo had plenty to say over the course of a flawlessly executed set, musing on everything from George Bush Jr.’s warmongering to the fact that every second word out of her mouth is a four-letter one. But nothing resonated more than the introduction to “I Nearly Died”, a single released when grunge was in its final days and rave was just beginning to rise in North America.
“We’ve spent 10 years in an industry full of pigs, backstabbers, and Judases,” Manson announced, crediting fans with helping Garbage persevere through the bullshit. “It’s because of you that we’ve been able to do our own thing, and we thank you.”
Garbage showed its gratitude on this night by making an unassailable case that it’s one the best live bands in rock ’n’ roll. Making that doubly surprising is that the group’s recorded output has been spotty at best. After delivering a legitimate classic with its self-titled, 1993 debut, Garbage lost it for the rest of the decade, returning to form only recently with the unofficial comeback that is Bleed Like Me.
Early on, Manson apologized for not having visited these parts since Bill Clinton was getting his dick sucked in the White House. Garbage atoned for that by immediately delivering the good stuff, kicking things off with a smashingly sultry “Queer”, and then charging hard into “Bad Boyfriend”, the distortion-jacked first single off Bleed Like Me. The latter set the tone for the evening; with celebrity skinbeater Butch Vig packing the song with tommygun fills, guitarists Duke Erikson and Steve Marker provided awesomely metallic, two-guitar crunch.
Sporting fishnet stockings, Jessica Simpson–issue cutoffs, a black cap, and enough eyeliner to impress Avril Lavigne, Manson took control early. Smart performers know that the key to a great show is making a connection with the crowd, and to that end Garbage’s official supervixen had a number of tricks, including letting the fans take charge on the chorus to “Only Happy When It Rains”. Manson is also a master at making eye contact. If half the crowd went home with hopeless crushes after “Bad Boyfriend”, that was understandable; when a trash-talking tuff-grrrl stares at you while singing “So ripe so sweet, come suck it and see”, resistance is futile.
While the crazily charismatic Manson is the unchallenged star of the show, everyone stepped up to the plate. So while the flame-haired frontwoman shadowboxed, kung-fu kicked, and writhed like a Mustang Ranch pole dancer throughout the set, her axemen were determined to give her some competition. Marker was into it, but it was Erikson who went above and beyond in songs like “I Think I’m Paranoid” and “Stupid Girl”. The balding, decidedly un–rock ’n’ roll–looking guitarist hit the stage in a blazer and tie. An hour and a half later, he was down to a sweat-soaked and untucked button-up blue shirt, styling like a Des Moines accountant celebrating fiscal new year. It was a strangely inspirational sight.
The greatest thing about a great show was that, as much as the fans loved Garbage, Garbage clearly loves its fans. In the middle of the set, Manson stopped the proceedings to ask an audience member about a sign she’d been waving around all night. After learning there had been a screwup with tickets where members of the official Garbage fan club had troubles getting into the show, the singer seemed genuinely horrified, promising to get to the bottom of things. As a make-good gesture, she then demanded that Vig leave his kit, jump off the stage, and plant one on the lucky disciple. Talk is cheap, and Manson knows that action—like the sight of an alternative legend smooching with the common people—speaks louder than words. With Garbage playing the second half of a Commodore double header the next night, that was enough to make you want to get up the next morning and do it all over again.
Concert Reviews Archives
Garbage makes a charismatic connection
By Mike Usinger
Publish Date: 1-Sep-2005
At the Commodore on Tuesday, August 30
Talk is cheap, but that didn’t stop Garbage’s Shirley Manson from spouting off at the Commodore on Tuesday. The diminutive Scottish dynamo had plenty to say over the course of a flawlessly executed set, musing on everything from George Bush Jr.’s warmongering to the fact that every second word out of her mouth is a four-letter one. But nothing resonated more than the introduction to “I Nearly Died”, a single released when grunge was in its final days and rave was just beginning to rise in North America.
“We’ve spent 10 years in an industry full of pigs, backstabbers, and Judases,” Manson announced, crediting fans with helping Garbage persevere through the bullshit. “It’s because of you that we’ve been able to do our own thing, and we thank you.”
Garbage showed its gratitude on this night by making an unassailable case that it’s one the best live bands in rock ’n’ roll. Making that doubly surprising is that the group’s recorded output has been spotty at best. After delivering a legitimate classic with its self-titled, 1993 debut, Garbage lost it for the rest of the decade, returning to form only recently with the unofficial comeback that is Bleed Like Me.
Early on, Manson apologized for not having visited these parts since Bill Clinton was getting his dick sucked in the White House. Garbage atoned for that by immediately delivering the good stuff, kicking things off with a smashingly sultry “Queer”, and then charging hard into “Bad Boyfriend”, the distortion-jacked first single off Bleed Like Me. The latter set the tone for the evening; with celebrity skinbeater Butch Vig packing the song with tommygun fills, guitarists Duke Erikson and Steve Marker provided awesomely metallic, two-guitar crunch.
Sporting fishnet stockings, Jessica Simpson–issue cutoffs, a black cap, and enough eyeliner to impress Avril Lavigne, Manson took control early. Smart performers know that the key to a great show is making a connection with the crowd, and to that end Garbage’s official supervixen had a number of tricks, including letting the fans take charge on the chorus to “Only Happy When It Rains”. Manson is also a master at making eye contact. If half the crowd went home with hopeless crushes after “Bad Boyfriend”, that was understandable; when a trash-talking tuff-grrrl stares at you while singing “So ripe so sweet, come suck it and see”, resistance is futile.
While the crazily charismatic Manson is the unchallenged star of the show, everyone stepped up to the plate. So while the flame-haired frontwoman shadowboxed, kung-fu kicked, and writhed like a Mustang Ranch pole dancer throughout the set, her axemen were determined to give her some competition. Marker was into it, but it was Erikson who went above and beyond in songs like “I Think I’m Paranoid” and “Stupid Girl”. The balding, decidedly un–rock ’n’ roll–looking guitarist hit the stage in a blazer and tie. An hour and a half later, he was down to a sweat-soaked and untucked button-up blue shirt, styling like a Des Moines accountant celebrating fiscal new year. It was a strangely inspirational sight.
The greatest thing about a great show was that, as much as the fans loved Garbage, Garbage clearly loves its fans. In the middle of the set, Manson stopped the proceedings to ask an audience member about a sign she’d been waving around all night. After learning there had been a screwup with tickets where members of the official Garbage fan club had troubles getting into the show, the singer seemed genuinely horrified, promising to get to the bottom of things. As a make-good gesture, she then demanded that Vig leave his kit, jump off the stage, and plant one on the lucky disciple. Talk is cheap, and Manson knows that action—like the sight of an alternative legend smooching with the common people—speaks louder than words. With Garbage playing the second half of a Commodore double header the next night, that was enough to make you want to get up the next morning and do it all over again.
www.straight.com/content.cfm?id=12562