Lucky for us, Crowded House is "co-headlining" (What does that mean--they're gonna play at the same time as The Smithereens?) a four-band evening, so even if we missed opening band The Farm, it wasn't gonna be any big deal.
5:08
Laura tears off her blue jeans. "God Dammit! I'm gonna be too hot in these!"
She rips her shirt off. "I don't have a sweater that looks good. What the
hell am I going to do with my hair?" She puts on her black jeans. "I look
like a BOY in these!" I suggest that looking like a boy wasn't so bad--that
I'd been able to handle it for well over 20 years now. I quickly learn that
now is not the best time for humor. I return to the living room and let her
wrestle with her closet. I blast "Anyone Can Tell" through her Dahlquists,
'cause I know they won't be playing that one tonight.
5:20
I'm driving, 'cause Laura's too frazzled. We play the debut album on the way
to The World. I'm just into "Sister Madly" (the first song on my version of
_Temple of Low Men_) when I flip over to WXRT, the station that's broadcasting
the entire concert tonight live.
6:01
We're still on the road. The crowd at The World is mellow. The deejays
broadcasting live on site promise lots of "exclusive information and
interviews" with the bands. I clap.
6:04
While raving about the diversity of the acts playing tonight, deejay Frank E.
Lee refers to the Smithereens as "hard-rockin' guitar," while Crowded House is
a "pop-ish kind of group." I let loose a string of expletives aimed at Laura's
Honda dashboard for the sinful (oh, alright, probably truthful) pigeon-holing
of my idols, the Fab Three (plus that one dorko guy).
6:07
The Farm has severe technical problems with a sequenced drum track during their
second song. The lead singer tries to make a few jokes to keep things light.
They finally abandon the song and try a new one. It sounds the same to me.
These guys suck. The DJ said they had had a "string of #1 hits in England,"
but I wonder whose chart HE was looking at.
We're bumper-to-bumper in parking lot traffic. God, The World is an ugly sight. Oh well.
6:35
Parked, tickets torn, Laura's got her Chicago Dog and Pepsi (the vendor looked
forlornly at her when she asked for a brat), and now we're over at the souvenir
stand, the smell of new T-Shirts filling our heads. I hate merchandising at
concerts, but tonight I brought along $100 'cause I plan on cleaning up,
especially if they're offering a premium sweatshirt. But all they have is
T's--not even a button! And on top of that, the shirts are now TWENTY-TWO
DOLLARS A PIECE. It's robbery. I spit on the ground, and ask for an
extra-large. The black one, with the pseudo-Beatles photoillustration of the
guys on the back. I think I'll skip the Crowded House baseball cap for $15,
thank you very much.
The Farm is done, thank God. We wander to our seats and start to take things in. We look desperately for a couple of friends, who only got lawn seats (I gave the tickets to them 'cause I ordered an extra pair, just in case of a snafu ... Hey, they were free.). But the crowd is quickly rising to 30,000, so there's really little chance that we'll find them. We finally settle into our ticketed seats. Laura sits back and eats her hot dog while I sit on the edge, far too hyper to do anything but strain my eyes at the stage and watch roadies running around looking important.
7:20
Richard Thompson comes on solo, just him and an acoustic vs. 30,000 fans, only
15,000 of which have probably heard OF him, 8,000 of which have actually HEARD
anything but his single, and 3,000 of which have ever owned one of his albums.
He wastes no time proving why this is a sin: He is a guitar god. He tears
through brilliant versions of "Shoot Out The Lights," "Misunderstood" and " '52
Black Vincent", during which he manages to make his guitar sound like three
guitars. He makes it look easy. Then he plays "I Feel So Good (I'm Gonna
Break Somebody's Heart)" after apologizing for not having the full band to play
it ... and it sounds better than the single. He closes with "Valerie" and the
crowd gives him a lukewarm send-off. What do they know, anyway?
8:23
It's dark now. The place has filled up. The two enormous video screens have
the WXRT and Budweiser logos on it, and the words "CROWDED HOUSE". I have an
anxiety attack: I've been waiting four years to see these guys again ... What
if Nick suddenly comes down with a tummy ache from a bad cup of tea and they
have to cancel? What if I faint from starvation (I haven't eaten much all day,
too nervous) and miss the whole thing? What if a band of eco-terrorists
suddenly decide right now to blow up the electrical switching station that
controls the power to this theater? Laura slaps me and tells me I'm annoying
her.
8:47
The deejay comes out to introduce Crowded House. He explains that they were
once Split Enz, and that Tim has rejoined ... Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. I
KNOW THIS, I think to myself. GET ON WITH IT.
8:48
The deejerk has left the stage. The lights are up. Samples of old-fashioned
radio shows and classic 1940s songs drop out of the speaker system in a
hodge-podge of aural confusion. The stage seems to be empty of human life for
an ETERNITY ... and finally, at a full sprint, Neil, wearing black pants and a
flame red button-down shirt, launches himself from stage left all the way to
stage right. Tim (wearing the blue suit pictured in the color photos on the
inside of _Woodface_) and Nick (white button down, reddish-looking pants, and
suspenders) are right behind him. The keyboardist (looked like Mitch Froom
with longer hair) came on from stage right. Paul (black jeans, a red pullover
shirt), who, like Tigger, has a bottom made out of rubber, bounces up to his
set. Neil gives a tempo ... Paul picks it up, and boom! Here we go ...
1 6
P
2 3 4 5
---------------------------------------------------------
1-- Keyboardist (I'm pretty sure it was Mitch; keyboards were elevated with
stairs stage right)
2-- Techie, occasional guitar solos (noted below; his name was given, but I
couldn't catch it)
3-- Neil Finn
4-- Nick Seymour
5-- Tim Finn
6-- Paul Hester (Drums elevated, with a ramp leading up)
P-- Electric piano
TALL TREES, one of my least fave cuts on _Woodface_ but getting a lot of local airplay is next. At the guiar solo, Neil prances away from the mic, but then remembers that the break is only 4 measures long, so he has to sprint back to the mic to make it back to the chorus in time. Again, they extend the end and get heavy guitar sounds cranking again. Closeups of Tim on the video screen reveal that he looks bored. Nick is barely staying in his suspenders as he jostles around the stage.
MEAN TO ME starts out with Neil solo. And after the line "And the sound of Te Awamutu/ Had a truly sacred ring", there is a LONG pause ... then finally: "Now her parents are divorced..." Everyone comes in and kicks butt on the chorus. They REALLY tear up this one, and by the time this song was over, the crowd, who wasn't all that thrilled at the beginning, is REALLY starting to take notice. The entire middle section of the theater is on its feet.
WHISPERS AND MOANS starts out the same way,with Neil soloing. They're not taking much time to talk tonight. They don't have the usual long time to play, so they're just playing. That's cool. Tim takes keyboards on this one--no prob for him, 'cause it's just long string pads on the chorus and rideout. As they near the end of the song, they lapse back into the hard chords we hear in the MIDDLE (Just before "Love that sound/ Time erase...") and Neil tears some more holes in his amplifier, this time dancing all the way down the long apron while he plays, while Nick, Paul and Tim sing "Whispers and moans" over and over again. Somehow, the intensity is still increasing after each song ...
SISTER MADLY "We'd like to bring Paul out front," says Neil, and thank God, 'cause he's been squirming to get out. He comes down the ramp stage left of his set while the roadies set up the trap set. Neil is playing the first two chords from "Sister Madly" over and over while they set up. When Paul is finally ready, he nods to Neil and picks up the opening drum beat. The second verse is handily altered: "Now you're headin' down to find something/ Something you lost in Chicago." Tacky trick always guaranteed to get a rise out of the crowd. Neil plays the guitar solo (I was hoping Richard Thompson, who plays the solo on the studio version, was gonna come out for this one; no dice), and then everyone drops out except Paul, keeping the beat, and Tim, who is now sitting at an electric piano, cuts a solo. Choppy, but not too bad. Neil ad libs a new melody line for awhile (couldn't catch the words), but they lapse back into the chorus, bring it to the end, and instead of using the cold ending on the record, they drop into the four-part harmony ending they used on David Letterman in '89. Paul returns to his drum set. In this abbreviated set, there is no time for any more acoustic stuff. Damn.
WEATHER WITH YOU was fair. This is a studio song, not a great live song. But they turned it into a fun time at the end 'cause they got us all singing. Band: "Everywhere you go ..." Us: "You always take the weather with you", and so on. I was surprised the crowd got into it as much as they did, 'cause not a lot of them knew the song. The good sound mix helped everyone understand what they were singing. It was a cool feeling. That must be a rush to write a song and then hear 30,000 folks sing it back to you. At the percussion break near the end, Neil grabbed a tambourine and left the stage, going out into the audience and dancing in the aisles with a few hundred people while Tim and Paul kept repeating the chorus. Tim also went up to the edge and shook some hands. They were obviously having a great time. (At this point, Laura and I decided to piss off the people sitting behind us and stand for the rest of the concert. Hey, they coulda stood up too, if they wanted. It's their choice.)
SIX MONTHS IN A LEAKY BOAT Tim asks if there are any Split Enz fans out there. Some folks cheer. They break into the song. Tim's whistling was impressive. (I could never whistle on stage, for some reason.) As they do on the version of "Six Months" that appears on the "Fall At Your Feet" single, they drop the instrumental portion that comes right after the whistling. The song ends. The crowd cheers, they quiet down ... And THEN the band slowly builds back into the dreamy, synth-filled end to the song (as it appears in the studio version). They build it and build it until it's thunderous. Quite dramatic.
WHEN YOU COME Neil still has the acoustic he used on "Six Months", and as the crowd comes down from the last song he is playing an E chord over and over. He begins singing lyrics I don't recognize. A techie comes out and takes an electric guitar, and stands off to the right of Neil. Neil continues his adlib on his chord, finally sings, "When you come..." and I just about go through the roof, 'cause this is my fave Neil song. He keeps it solo 'til the second verse, when Paul and Nick join him. Tim comes in on "And that is why I stumble to my knees", and then the place explodes with sound. (I may have orgasmed, I'm not sure.) The techie helps out with solos. Tim goes up the ramp with his acoustic and plays to Paul for awhile. After Neil finally gets to "Burning and exploding/ Like a slow volcano/ When you come ..." even HE is going crazy ... he leaves the mic altogether, dances all the way out right (playing furiously), then sprints stage left, spins around and around in one place (still playing) and ends up at Tim's mic to close the song. It is clear that this is one of Neil's faves, too.
FALL AT YOUR FEET "Alright, this is one of Neil's songs," explains Tim, and I think (out loud), "Oh God, here he goes again." Tim used to ALWAYS do this. Every time it was a Neil composition, he felt compelled to explain that to everyone, as if to say "I'm not responsible." (And like we couldn't tell ... All of Neil's songs are memorable and singable after hearing them once; I've only heard one memorable Tim song, and THAT was a Coca-Cola commercial.) Anyway, "Fall at Your Feet" is the one song of the evening that just does not work. The song is too delicate to be played through lots of loud electronic equipment. Still catchy, and they HAVE to play it since it's the new one. But it just doesn't fit the feel of the rest of the set.
SOMETHING SO STRONG Never been one of my favorites by them, but since the crowd was so into it, it is fun. Surprisingly, they don't get us to sing along this time, like they did in Los Angeles in '87. What they DO do is, after they lapse into the rideout chorus, they stop singing, and then out of nowhere Neil and Tim chime in with "I don't know why sometimes I get frightened ..." and the crowd, excited (because here is ANOTHER song they all recognize), simultaneously rise to their feet. The band finally returns to "Something So Strong," closing on a long-held three-part harmony note on "strong."
THERE GOES GOD is kinda loose, with a not-particularly-wonderful drum line. I figure this is probably because Paul might have used a click track in the studio and he didn't have one this night. That song is dependent on a very accurate groove. Tonight, it also rocks much harder than the studio version. Pretty much straightforward, no rearrangement, except an extended ending, during which Neil goes out on the stage apron with his guitar and slaps a lot of low-fives. From this I surmise that Aussies look silly slapping low-fives.
CHOCOLATE CAKE features our favorite techie, coming out to play a guitar solo at the point where the harp solo shows up on the studio version. Tim takes a lead vocal on this, and doesn't play an instrument, which is always bad news. (Neil plays the electric piano.) Tim again attempts his silly imitation of a lounge singer/Elvis impersonator, and it looks only half as pathetic as it did on Letterman because this time it's only him doing it instead of Neil and him. After the techie's solo, Neil introduces him (Brian somebody) and then Neil performs a short piano solo. Then they go into the Elvis Presley/7-11 verse, complete with cow moo and Paul holding his nose on his echo of "A woman gave birth to a baby..." Cute. Song ends. They thank us. They leave the stage.
ENCORES
WORLD WHERE YOU LIVE kicks. They use the same arrangement from four years ago:
after the song is over, Neil begins singing the chorus again, except much
slower and with only the keyboards behind him. We are encouraged to sing
along. We do. Loudly. (NOTE: When this song was done in L.A., someone
through a globe beach ball on stage, and Neil held it up during this ending
coda section. It was kinda cool.)
DON'T DREAM IT'S OVER Of course, this is the last song. It is kinda disgusting, all the couples wrapping arms around each other's hips, like it's "our song". (Oh, alright, we did it too.) Also a straightforward rendition, with few changes to the arrangement.
The four members come up and bow pretty much together, then Neil and Paul go off to shake some hands at the apron. Paul is out the longest, shaking more and more hands, and then finally runs his little body all the way across the stage, jumps up on some speakers at the last minute and raises his arms joyously above his head ... and then disappears stage left.
I relax.
At one point, Laura and I got into an argument over what song was being played: "Only A Memory" or "The Blues Before and After." Turned out at the end of the song we realized it was "House We Used to Live In." This is the problem with a band that has songs that all sound the same: We almost broke up because we couldn't tell what song it was. There oughta be a law.
Overall, this CH concert mainly differed in the energy level. When I saw them at the Wiltern Theater on 9/7/87, they had the whole evening to themselves and they took their sweet time, chatting with the audience and themselves between songs, taking requests, drastically rearranging/rewriting songs, and inviting members on stage for the encore. But on a bill with three other bands, they didn't have that kind of time this night. So they opted for a high-energy barrage of songs. It was wonderful to see them again, but not as fulfilling overall. But that will be remedied: As we have seen here the last few days, they will be coming back to America after they turn Europe upside down.
AS TO THE "TIM" FACTOR ... Yeah, it's nice to hear him doing harmonies, but he's still a fourth wheel on this tricycle. Anyone could have done what he did--without the lounge singer imitation. Puhleeeeze. I don't wish him to leave (yet), but I wouldn't miss him if he did.