Motley Crue, Aerosmith deliver an explosive spectacle
Vancouver Sun, Canada
December 14, 2006
Motley Crue plays GM Place Wednesday night. Aerosmith was the main band.
(Steve Bosch/Vancouver Sun)
Overhead two women are gyrating in swinging cages while eardrum ripping guitar chords compete against convulsive drums and screaming vocals for total domination of GM Place.
And don’t forget the fireworks.
Motley Crue - also known as the opening act for Aerosmith on their extensive Route of All Evil Tour - put on a smutty, raunchy, tacky and positively explosive spectacle. The animalistic, ‘80s hairspray metal band was so bad that it was good. (And it was so good that it was a tough act to follow.) R-rated video screens illustrated lyrics that would be better off left to the imagination. A chorus of vampy burlesque dancers of undefined genders hammed it up to the Crue’s trashy-but-catchy anthem, Girls, Girls, Girls. And when things seemed to be calming down, they’d throw in a wall or two of fire so hot waves resonated through the stunned crowd like in the song, Shout at the Devil. It was totally out of control.
The crowd seemed to buy it too. Cougars with thongs peeking from low-slung jeans, 20-somethings in vintage concert tees, boomers in leather jackets and tweens with dark eyeliner all suffered the cochlear attack with arms pounding overhead.
And when things felt too crazy, the veteran rockers - Nikki Sixx, Vince Neil, Mick Mars and Tommy Lee - just kept going. It was the same old situation with their banter too. At one point they told us to grab our "nuts" or "titties."
Lee or Neil dropped f-bombs between almost every song and sometimes during. And Neil waxed poetic on the year they spent in what he calls “V-town,” when they recorded Dr. Feelgood in 1989 with producer Bob Rock.
Next door, Aerosmith was busy recording Pump. That was the first time the two bands collided in this city. In the midst of the Crue’s hayday of sex, drugs, car crashes, prison and more drugs, they have fond memories of Vancouver.
“We’ve spent a lot of time up here. We spent a year up here. It’s sort of like a second home to us here,” Neil says to the cheering fans. “Vancouver. I just like how that sounds Van-f*cking-couver.”
After a few more gut blender tunes, Neil tells the crowd: “The relationship we have with Aerosmith goes way back. We really f*ckin’ bonded together when we were here in Vancouver…” (During that time, both groups reportedly even shared the same counselor, Bob Timmons, according to the book, The Dirt: Confessions of the World's Most Notorious Rock Band.) The Crue also enjoyed the Vancouver’s exotic dancers, Neil says, and the song, Same Old Situation, was even inspired by a local stripper who dumped one of the band members.
Things wrap up on a boisterous note with some cheerleader tactics – a vocal ping-pong challenge with the words Motley Crue - led by Tommy Lee, who also passes a bottle of Jagermeister to the crowd. He tells us: “Goodnight F*ckers.”
So with all the shock and awe of the notorious Crue – all the ruckus, pomp and commotion caused by the big-haired brats - Aerosmith’s performance seemed a little clean cut. A little sanitized. A little quiet at first.
That doesn’t mean Steven Tyler didn’t slink around the stage stunning us with his fit 50-something physique and big-lipped, vocal acrobatics or that Joe Perry’s fingers didn’t singe guitar after guitar. It doesn’t mean that Joey Kramer didn’t pulverize the drums while Brad Whitford’s fast fingers kept tune on lead guitar.
Because they did. The rockers were sensational.
Instead of gimmicky devices like flame guns and hairspray, they focused on good, solid music.
Their set started off with a bluesy medley twisted around the tune, Walking The Dog, belted out with plenty of energy. And by the time they moved into Love in an Elevator, our eyes had adjusted to the well-lit stage -- free of smoke and fireworks -- and our ears had unclenched. Still, the mood changed from frenzy to appreciation.
Tyler dazzled with an acapella version of F.I.N.E.
(Fucked Up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional,) a song, he says, they recorded in Vancouver.
“Oh yeah Vancouver, it’s been too long,” he says before heading into another blues session with Perry.
Nikki Sixx band-hopped into the set for a cameo in a rock version of Helter Skelter where Tyler added signature screams and raspy vocals. Perry mixed in some raw, bluesy riffs in their sollid version of Baby Please Don’t Go.
But the concert highlight was definitely the mixed up, extended take on Sweet Emotion, led by a lengthy bass solo that climbed into a frenzy of arms waving and crowd air banding. For an encore, it was Walk This Way, served up with gusto.
Their last concert of the tour rocked. Period.
Slightly deaf, with necks sore from head banging, the crowd oozes out in to the night at about 11:30 p.m., senses totally overloaded and fully satisfied.
Photo Gallery: (here).
December 14, 2006
Motley Crue plays GM Place Wednesday night. Aerosmith was the main band.
(Steve Bosch/Vancouver Sun)
Overhead two women are gyrating in swinging cages while eardrum ripping guitar chords compete against convulsive drums and screaming vocals for total domination of GM Place.
And don’t forget the fireworks.
Motley Crue - also known as the opening act for Aerosmith on their extensive Route of All Evil Tour - put on a smutty, raunchy, tacky and positively explosive spectacle. The animalistic, ‘80s hairspray metal band was so bad that it was good. (And it was so good that it was a tough act to follow.) R-rated video screens illustrated lyrics that would be better off left to the imagination. A chorus of vampy burlesque dancers of undefined genders hammed it up to the Crue’s trashy-but-catchy anthem, Girls, Girls, Girls. And when things seemed to be calming down, they’d throw in a wall or two of fire so hot waves resonated through the stunned crowd like in the song, Shout at the Devil. It was totally out of control.
The crowd seemed to buy it too. Cougars with thongs peeking from low-slung jeans, 20-somethings in vintage concert tees, boomers in leather jackets and tweens with dark eyeliner all suffered the cochlear attack with arms pounding overhead.
And when things felt too crazy, the veteran rockers - Nikki Sixx, Vince Neil, Mick Mars and Tommy Lee - just kept going. It was the same old situation with their banter too. At one point they told us to grab our "nuts" or "titties."
Lee or Neil dropped f-bombs between almost every song and sometimes during. And Neil waxed poetic on the year they spent in what he calls “V-town,” when they recorded Dr. Feelgood in 1989 with producer Bob Rock.
Next door, Aerosmith was busy recording Pump. That was the first time the two bands collided in this city. In the midst of the Crue’s hayday of sex, drugs, car crashes, prison and more drugs, they have fond memories of Vancouver.
“We’ve spent a lot of time up here. We spent a year up here. It’s sort of like a second home to us here,” Neil says to the cheering fans. “Vancouver. I just like how that sounds Van-f*cking-couver.”
After a few more gut blender tunes, Neil tells the crowd: “The relationship we have with Aerosmith goes way back. We really f*ckin’ bonded together when we were here in Vancouver…” (During that time, both groups reportedly even shared the same counselor, Bob Timmons, according to the book, The Dirt: Confessions of the World's Most Notorious Rock Band.) The Crue also enjoyed the Vancouver’s exotic dancers, Neil says, and the song, Same Old Situation, was even inspired by a local stripper who dumped one of the band members.
Things wrap up on a boisterous note with some cheerleader tactics – a vocal ping-pong challenge with the words Motley Crue - led by Tommy Lee, who also passes a bottle of Jagermeister to the crowd. He tells us: “Goodnight F*ckers.”
So with all the shock and awe of the notorious Crue – all the ruckus, pomp and commotion caused by the big-haired brats - Aerosmith’s performance seemed a little clean cut. A little sanitized. A little quiet at first.
That doesn’t mean Steven Tyler didn’t slink around the stage stunning us with his fit 50-something physique and big-lipped, vocal acrobatics or that Joe Perry’s fingers didn’t singe guitar after guitar. It doesn’t mean that Joey Kramer didn’t pulverize the drums while Brad Whitford’s fast fingers kept tune on lead guitar.
Because they did. The rockers were sensational.
Instead of gimmicky devices like flame guns and hairspray, they focused on good, solid music.
Their set started off with a bluesy medley twisted around the tune, Walking The Dog, belted out with plenty of energy. And by the time they moved into Love in an Elevator, our eyes had adjusted to the well-lit stage -- free of smoke and fireworks -- and our ears had unclenched. Still, the mood changed from frenzy to appreciation.
Tyler dazzled with an acapella version of F.I.N.E.
(Fucked Up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional,) a song, he says, they recorded in Vancouver.
“Oh yeah Vancouver, it’s been too long,” he says before heading into another blues session with Perry.
Nikki Sixx band-hopped into the set for a cameo in a rock version of Helter Skelter where Tyler added signature screams and raspy vocals. Perry mixed in some raw, bluesy riffs in their sollid version of Baby Please Don’t Go.
But the concert highlight was definitely the mixed up, extended take on Sweet Emotion, led by a lengthy bass solo that climbed into a frenzy of arms waving and crowd air banding. For an encore, it was Walk This Way, served up with gusto.
Their last concert of the tour rocked. Period.
Slightly deaf, with necks sore from head banging, the crowd oozes out in to the night at about 11:30 p.m., senses totally overloaded and fully satisfied.
Photo Gallery: (here).
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