|
 |
Velvet Revolver + The Screaming Jets Thebarton Theatre, Sat 26 Feb The Screaming Jets should be appointed to write a new national anthem. Few things sound as Australian as the Jets. We could even simply adopt Better as our song. "Said we'd never get anywhere / They don't care and it's just not fair / But you know and I know better" seems pretty apt for a penal colony that's now one of the world's wealthiest nations. Despite not owning any of their records, it was gratifying to finally see the Jets in... er, full flight. Watching Velvet Revolver it was difficult to work out whether we were seeing the past or the future. But think about the present: when we have Jet looking apologetic about even being on stage; John Mayer seemingly singing whilst asleep and the bland white-boy funk of Maroon 5, and the answer is clear. Back at Thebby, there's Scott Weiland standing centre stage in full crucifix pose, sweat glinting on his shirtless torso, bus conductor's hat perfectly straight, microphone in one hand, megaphone in the other. It may be naff, but it's beautiful. For sheer energy, Velvet Revolver are impressive. There was a hardly a moment when someone wasn't moving on stage. An unexpected intensity in the delivery of the songs gave them an edge lacking in their recorded counterparts. Velvet Revolver, it would seem, are hell-bent on actually getting better at what they do and this hard-edged professionalism works wonders for the material. It stands to reason that Guns N' Roses and Stone Temple Pilots songs would go down a storm tonight (neither band ever played Adelaide) and so it was when Guns' It's So Easy and STP's Sex Type Thing made an appearance in the set. The latter benefited enormously from the two-guitar attack, threatening to blow the back wall off the theatre. Again, the approach was the key: all members played these songs as if they were their own and obviously enjoyed it. Weiland's charisma out front was unmistakeable, and while his moves were part bad street theatre, part interpretive dancing, we need more frontmen like him. His vocals were strong (if lost in the mix for much of the night) and his band are tight. To see a fighting fit Duff sprinting across stage as Weiland does rubberman dances with his megaphone and Slash strikes his pose - head back, guitar neck perpendicular to the ground - in a venue the size of Thebarton is to see rock'n'roll personified. F--k you, Jet. F--k you, John Mayer. And f--k you, Maroon 5. Velvet Revolver are the future - again. And they're eating you alive.  |
|
The latest issue available now!     |
All content copyright dB Magazine