Down w/ Melvins & Weedeater @ Nokia Theatre - 9/11/0Down w/ Melvins & Weedeater @ Nokia Theatre - 9/11/09

On a day of what should have been one of remembrance and sadness for the people who lost their lives during the terrorist attacks eight years ago, was a day of great celebration surrounded by a cloud of marijuana and metal. That is not to say that this tragic day and the heinous events that unfolded were overlooked... in fact, Seattle stoner legends the Melvins led an impromptu sing-along of "O Say Can You See" with members of Down and Weedeater joining them onstage. The bands are no doubt proud to be Americans and share this love of their country with those in attendance, even going so far as to order anybody wearing a hat to take it off and place their right hand over their heart and sing.


Upon meeting the members of Down, I found guitarist Kirk Windstein and drummer Jimmy Bower to be in good spirits despite the fact that bassist Rex Brown couldn't make the rest of the tour due to his chronic pancreatitis and being replaced by fellow NOLA player Danny Theriot, who did an admirable but otherwise ho-hum performance. Guitarist Pepper Keenan was, in a word, a douchebag. I'm not too surprised or bothered by this. Whatever his contributions are to the band, his surly attitude and inability to connect with fans, or at least put forth an effort to connect, rubs me the wrong way and needs to learn to respect people who pay money to watch his crusty, 40-something, over-the-hill, stoned-out self noodling and fiddling his instrument like he's someone important. Let's face it, when you say "Down" the first person you think about is Phil Anselmo, not Pepper Keenan. He is the last person to have any ego! So fuck you, Pepper! And what of Phil, you may ask? I have to say that he is one of coolest, sincerest person you could meet. And despite his previous doings with heroin and mud-slinging from Vinnie Paul and Dimebag Darrell's widow Rita Haney about his character, Philip Anselmo was a true gentleman and in his words, certainly did "take care of us," his fans.


WEEDEATER - To light up the evening's first joint, this band seemed to relish burying their "music" in feedback and distorted noise rather than actually sing. There was some initial growling that couldn't be heard and after a while the band just gave up and simply played "noise." Not a whole lot else, except that douchebag Pepper seemed to like them a lot and paid ample attention to their set. My guess is that the band is a possible discovery of his. I think he needs to do better than this. Set Grade: C


MELVINS - The legendary and mysterious band from Seattle who may, or may not, have been responsible for the start of Grunge in the 80s. Certainly they didn't popularize the genre, but they were one of the first. So when I expect to hear something akin to early Nirvana or Soundgarden, but get Weedeater Part II instead. At one point, notoriously nappy-headed frontman peers out into the crowd and notices the otherwise bored, tired looks on the faces of the people in the front row, including mine, and assures us that "Down is here tonight, don't worry!" which actually proves to be one of the most hilarious exclamations ever made at a concert that I've been to. There are moments when the Melvins get a good riff going, but then stop immediately in favor of sludgy 10-minute riffs which put the front row back to sleep. Despite a rousing double-drum intro from Dale Crover and a second drummer (!!!!) that lasts for what feels like almost five minutes of continuous cymbal bashing and the rousing, impromptu sing-along for America, the Melvins fall short and disappoint. Set Grade: C+


DOWN - When all is said and done, what we want to see is Phil! The man behind the mic for metal saviors, the late Pantera, is back after two years to spread the good message that "real metal" has returned to New York City. The crowd is all over this one and bodies immediately start flying. Down pummel through several favorites such as opener "Eyes of the South" and other favorites from the first two albums, such as "Stone the Crow," "Bury Me in Smoke," "Ghosts Along the Mississippi," and "New Orleans Is a Dying Whore," while playing only one song from the latest album, "Nothing in Return (Walk Away)." But the best, and most surprising, moment was when the band kicked into their faithful rendition to Van Halen's "Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love." Immediately, the crowd and myself went wild with delight and anyone who knew the words, which was EVERYONE, sang along to Phil who had a similar quality to VH's latest frontman David Lee Roth! For my first Down show, this was an unexpectedly pleasant one... and definitely one of the Top 5 best shows this year! Set Grade: A-


Overall Show Grade: B

Motörhead w/ Reverend Horton Heat & Nashville Pussy @ Roseland Ballroom - 9/9/09

Almost one year ago, at the same venue, I saw Motörhead for the first time and was blown away. I missed a chance to meet frontman/bassist Lemmy, who escaped through the back exit, and instead had to settle with meeting drummer Mikkey Dee, who was polite enough but seemed otherwise uninterested in chatting with fans. This time was way different! Mikkey Dee, who opted to appear on the Swedish version of our American show "I'm a Celebrity... Get Me Out of Here!" instead, was replaced by Velvet Revolver skinsman Matt Sorum and I got to mee the legendary Lemmy Kilmister of Motörhead, who, after forming the band for almost 35 years, was standing before me. A gentleman in every respect and surprisingly quite upbeat and funny. My vision of him was the proverbial old warhorse, jaded and wiry of the road and all the whores, groupies, users, abusers and hanger-ons who latch themselves onto bands with no purpose but to bleed them dry. So it was a pleasant surprise to me that despite having a pathetic entourage following behind him, he seemed to gravitate more towards me than the silicone-injected females near him. It's one of those great thrills that you feel when you come near a legend or a hero from your childhood and he is still just a normal guy at heart and plays for the simple joy of seeing his fans happy. As he took my hand into his and we walked down the sidewalk for five seconds - yes, this really did happen! - he assured me that the fun wouldn't stop any time soon and that the best was yet to come. Oh, and yes, the facial warts are indeed real!

NASHVILLE PUSSY - Not to be confused with "Alabama Thunderpussy," these southern rockers boast a pretty down and dirty, but some good, clean fun that begins with Cheech Marin's "Pussy, Pussy" monologue in the 1995 film, "From Dusk 'til Dawn." From the word "go," the show shoots off like a wild rodeo ride, never letting up for inch until the songs ends. The band boasts two females, one is a big chested guitarist and the other the bassist, who rock just as hard as the men. No feminist bullshit on their part, and the men don't seem to impose any sexist views, except for the name of the band, although I'm sure you could hear them if you listen to the lyrics, which, unfortunately, I couldn't. Set Grade: B

THE REVEREND HORTON HEAT - And now for something completely different and totally unexpected, a psychobilly act at a predominently metalhead show. They get the top prize for being the most unlikely band on the bill, yet still manage to get some cordial applause from the crowd of mosh-hungry people who want to see Motörhead. Still, there are certainly fans of RHH in the crowd, many of whom are old, tall men who grew up in Dallas, Texas as the frontman onstage and eventually migrated to New York. The band boasts a 50s throwback style complete with a giant bass viola and a Les Paul stratocaster (I could be wrong, though) with some old-style etchings. They play music that reminds me of something I heard in "Pulp Fiction" or some David Lynch movie that uses psychobilly-esque/50s rockabilly/surf punk music. At times, the interludes get slow, but not without some clever moments that tends to toy with the crowds reaction. Still, the good Rev (who looks like a post-rehab James Hetfield) and company do an admirable job in keeping the Southern Comfort vibe going. Set Grade: B

MOTÖRHEAD - And off we go, exactly where we left off nearly a year ago, with a packed crowd of people waiting to see the Road Crew bring down the Roseland in true road-dog style. This time, however, things got a little bit louder, as I had read on some concert-goer's T-shirt that evening which read: "Motörhead... Everything Louder Than Anything Out There!" or something to that effect. It wasn't enough that I could hear the songs being played, but the band were in danger of killing every eardrum that wasn't protected or covered. Lemmy, like a great crumbling statue, remained in his position belting out the usual classics like.... oh, you know the ones.... do I really have to name them? The crowd seemed satisfied to throw themselves literally on top of each other and into the waiting arms of security more for themselves than for Lemmy. I mean, seriously, can anyone name one Motörhead song that they can mosh to? Matt Sorum covers Mikkey Dee's fat ass well on the drums and even goes so far as to mimic Dee's "tossing-of-the-sticks-everywhere" routine. And Phil just wears a damn cool-looking fedora hat. The night did belong to them naturally, but without really being able to hear the songs and singing along, it really made me lose focus. Maybe next year, in September at the Roseland again, will be a different story. Set Grade: B+

Overall Show Grade: B