Last night I went to see MÃ¶tley CrÃ¼e play at the Globe arena in Stockholm (even if you don’t like MÃƒÂ¶tley CrÃƒÂ¼e, read on, it might be entertaining anyway ).
Way back, in the 80s and maybe early 90s they had some good material, but after that it has pretty much been uninteresting. But, they’ve managed to live on their old stuff (Shout at the Devil etc) and their attitude and media coverage, and then especially Tommy Lee.
Let me share how yesterday was for me:
Since I live in a suburb north of Stockholm, I decided to take my car there to easier get home after the gig. Besides, I didn’t have any plans on drinking so it felt like a good choice. However, what I had missed was that yesterday was the day before a holiday (June 6th, the Swedish National Day), and everyone was going with their cars to their country homes to desperately stay away from home for one day.
It was also a very warm day yesterday, around 27 degrees Celsius/81 degrees Fahrenheit, traffic jams like you would never believe, cars overheating, road work, you name it. I was stuck in our car with no air condition, and I had to have the windows up or I would’ve died from exhaust fumes. So, basically, I was in my sauna (sorry, I meant to type ‘car’ but my recollections forced me to choose another word) constantly drinking water from a 1Ã‚Â½ litre bottle.
All in all, it took me 2 hours (!) to manage to get the about 40 kilometers/25 miles to the arena. I parked my car and started to run towards the Globe arena, making just a short pit stop at a huge tree to pee out all the water I had drunk. When I was running there, sporting a Metallica t-shirt and my bottle with an unidentifiable transparent liquid in it, lots of rockers hailed me for, as they saw it, running with some home-brewn booze or something.
With all those encouraging cheers, hell, one guy even saluted me, I really couldn’t bare revealing the truth for them: this old man needs water to make it through a rock concert.
What’s the rush?
By now you have probably started wondering why I was in such a rush. The thing is, I just love to go crazy in the mosh pit, getting as close to the stage as possible and seeing the musicians faces close up. As probably most people, I have a lot of steam to occasionally let loose, so what better way than to do it in a happily manner?
So, to be able to get within the front enclosure closest to the stage, one has to invest a couple of hours waiting outside the arena before they open the doors. Luckily, my brother Martin, who I was going with, had been waiting there for about an hour when I finally got there.
Just one more thing
At about 18.00, they could open the doors anytime now, I ran up to Martin, left him my (now super-cool drinking binge) bottle, and continued to run to finish two more things that had to be done. The first one was to cash in a couple of ZZ Top tickets for their now cancelled Stockholm gig in July (I wouldn’t want them on me in the mosh pit; besides, I figured I would have had plenty of time to do it before the concert), the other was to grab something to eat at McDonalds for martin and me, to be able to make it through the evening.
Got into the ticket place, where they naturally couldn’t get their ticket machine to accept the not-laser-precision-super-flat tickets… She had to make a call to the office to verify that it was ok, and I asked her if I could run and get some burgers while i was waiting. She said yes.
Got into McDonalds, bought the burgers (after the cashier initially mistakenly registered 1 Big Mac and 8 (!) cheeseburgers), and ran back to the ticket place. Just in time, as she got the information she needed, so she could give me the money for the tickets. Grabbed them, and ran back to Martin.
Standing in line
Got to Martin, and apparently a guy had just gotten up from the ground and thrown up, just before I came running with my burger bag. Luckily, I didn’t get that visual, and the pile of vomit was lying sufficiently far away so while I could see it, at Ieast I didn’t have to smell it.
Normally, at concerts there’s always a number of people who are drunk, but I have to say that a vast majority seemed to be that in this line. We ate our burgers, and actually got to wait about 30 minutes more before they finally opened the door. Once inside the doors, the poor state of the ticket machines alternatively the drunken state of the attendees to the gig, resulted in that it took ages to get in, since about every second person couldn’t get the ticket machines to accept their tickets (I was one of them, but I completely blame the guy who was in front of me harassing the machine…).
This was about the time where Martin, 6 years younger than me, turned to me and said:
Man, all the kids here are about half my age. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must fell like for you.
Thanks, Martin, rub it in. I’m only 32 (going on 33), ok?
In the arena
Finally, we were inside and got down the stairs to the floor. We showed our tickets to one of the security guards, and once past that I saw that the entrance to the front enclosure was still open, so I decided to make a run for it.
Apparently this was a bad move, since a screech that sounded like it came right out of hell, ringing in my ears, vaguely articulated the words:
“WALK! DON’T RUN!”
These words were accompanied by a frantic security guard, in her all-time-best state of frenzy, who literally clawed after me as she uttered that scream. Naturally, my running came to a halt, while I half-eagerly, half-shocked, eyed the Medusa woman who I apparently had offended so badly.
Really, if you take a look at me and the other people who were there, you would probably decide that I would probably the least harmful guy in the entire place (although I’m not ). Anyway, I walked to the front enclosure, with Martin just behind me, and we got in. Mission accomplished.
Opening act: Papa Roach
I’ve never really listened to Papa Roach, but I have to say that their ambitious attitude and genuine will to entertain the crowd won me over. The beginning of their set was good, the middle so-so, and the ending good. But, most notably, they were constantly giving all they had.
Most of the crowd seemed to like them, or at least think they were decent, and this is probably partly out of gratitude, since most opening acts tend to suck. Hard. So, kudos to Papa Roach is all I can say.
Just after 21.00 MÃƒÂ¶tley got on stage. They opened with Dr. Feelgood followed by Shout at the Devil, so the place went wild! Soon after that they had also gone through Home Sweet Home, Looks That Kill, Wild Side and Primal Scream. The crowd was mostly nuts all the time and ecstatic to see their idols. Sadly to say, that feeling didn’t seem mutual.
First of all, I could hardly hear Vince Neil sing at all (except for the fact that he has gotten porky as well). Second, since at a concert it might be hard to distinguish every tone, I soon realized how much alike their different songs sound. It was all a mash-up of similar riffs. Got to give Mick Mars the benefit of coolness factor, though. Sure, he had some white make-up in his face, but with his hair, his hat, his look, it looked like Death himself had walked into the room.
I had hoped for a dazzling scene show as well, and granted, they had a lot of pyro effects, small fireworks and explosions going off about every minute. I’m definitely a sucker for all of that, but it was so often, and not alternated in any way, I soon got sick of it. It seemed so blatantly obvious that instead of delivering musically, or by at least varying the effects, they just kept on, and on, and on, with the same effects.
Also, at concerts, there are always interesting things to note: for instance, there’s always one guy in the audience at every gig, shouting out replies to what the singer is saying or singing. Kind of like a heckler at a standup comedy event, but with a very positive attitude about what’s going on on stage.
Another thing was the big buff guy standing in front of Martin. He was very happy and enthusiastic about the music and the show, although he seemed afraid of loud bangs, so he would violently flinch every time one of the numerous explosions took place on stage. Thoroughly entertaining.
Overall, MÃƒÂ¶tley seemed uninspired, and it definitely showed when they got off the stage after only an hour and a half, with no encore whatsoever. Grade-wise, I’d maybe give it a 3 with 5 being the best, because it was still ok. I just think I was disappointed since it didn’t meet my expectations.
Also, it’s a bit of a thumb in the eye with such a short set and no encores, knowing that Tommy Lee had a planned after-party where he had the strength to be a DJ and keep on going all night. It would be nice to share at least some of that time and those efforts with the paying fans.
My verdict is that it is worth seeing MÃƒÂ¶tley CrÃƒÂ¼e, anno 2007, live if you haven’t before (I had once, in New York in 2000). But if you have, you’re way better off putting on the Shout at the Devil record while reading The Dirt.