POP MUSIC REVIEW : High-Powered Show Not Set in Concrete
The ability to be an on-stage dynamo, a nonstop motion machine, is a hallmark of great pop performance, and Johnette Napolitano scored well above average on the Mick Jagger-James Brown perpetual motion meter as she fronted the Los Angeles band Concrete Blonde at the Coach House in San Juan Capistrano on Thursday night.
But for all of her energetic display--not to mention her adventurous, emotionally committed singing--Concrete Blonde’s set had more than a few dull moments.
To have full effect, dynamic singing and movement needs the support of energized playing. Far from playing trampoline to Napolitano’s acrobat, the other members of Concrete Blonde too often served as leaden ballast.
Harry Rushakoff’s drumming was the heavy object that proved most unmovable. Instead of flexibility and snap, he offered predictable bash and crash devoid of heady surges or canny dynamic shifts. Worst of all, Rushakoff’s drums dominated the sound mix, while James Mankey’s solid guitar work frequently was submerged.
On Wednesday at the Coach House, Stewart Copeland, the former Police drummer, had pounded excitement into the mediocre material of his new band, Animal Logic. A night later, wooden beats took the luster off some pretty good Concrete Blonde songs.
Left to supply the energy on her own, Napolitano wound up trying too hard. Her moves were striking at times as she thrashed about like a punkette cheerleader, but after a while it seemed like motion for movement’s sake as she did repetitive little hula-style hand dances, or jerked her upper body downward from the waist so that her black bangs flew over her eyes.
When Concrete Blonde emerged on its fine 1986 debut album, the band was a trio and Napolitano had bass guitar duties to keep her anchored and occupied. The band added bassist Alan Bloch for its much-delayed follow-up album, “Free.” That freed Napolitano to step out front and dance. Like a fidgeting ex-smoker looking for something to occupy the hands, Napolitano may be going through a hyperactive period of adjustment. In a small club, especially, she might have done better just to hold still through some songs and let the audience pick up on the intensity written in her face.
Musically, the 85-minute set followed a throw-it-against-the-wall-and-see-what-sticks approach that didn’t allow for much cohesion or sense of progression. Things started well, with Napolitano chanting her ironic, hipster’s rap, “Roses Grow,” over a simple drum beat. Then came a solid, stormy rocker, “God Is a Bullet,” that embellished upon the opening song’s theme of fear and loathing in Los Angeles. “Still in Hollywood,” another hard rocker, made for a thematic bookend at the end of the set.
Otherwise, it was a little bit of this and that. There was a good version of Jimi Hendrix’s “Castles Are Made of Sand,” a bad one of “Bargain” by the Who, and a Thin Lizzy song, “It’s Only Money,” that came off sounding--as Napolitano does in her less original moments--like a rocker by Heart.
At her best, Napolitano is an original voice, capable of sounding defeated and defiant at the same time. Her strengths came through on the moody “Scene of a Perfect Crime” and “Happy Birthday,” a lighter pop tune with a wistful cast. Two quieter numbers--one a country-tinged lament originally done by the Los Angeles band Tex and the Horseheads--found Napolitano and Mankey performing as a duo with fine results.
The moral there might be that if a rhythm section can’t be a dynamo, maybe it should just keep quiet.
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