O.C. POP MUSIC REVIEW : Dio Blares His Stuff in Wicked Show of Force

Considering how effective blaring rock music was in rousting Manuel Noriega out of Panama some months back, perhaps our military should consider a similar tactic in resolving the Persian Gulf crisis. Of course, it’s armed millions we’re dealing with there, so we’d need a bigger audio nuisance, like that produced by the Dio-and-Stryper-headed metal mega-bill at the Pacific Amphitheatre on Sunday.

Just set them up on the Iraq border and Ronnie James Dio’s Wagnerian excess of blackboard-screeching vocals and bombastic rock could cause even the most fanatic hordes to gnash their teeth in despair, and the show’s incessant flames and explosions made a wicked show of force. And if there’s any doubt in the Middle East that we’re the Great Satan, Dio’s devil-horn hand signals and garish skeletal rib-cage stage design should settle the matter.

His 18-song (counting keyboard and guitar showcases) show ranged from his Blackmore’s Rainbow days with “The Man on the Silver Mountain” to the well-crafted crunch fest “Lock Up the Wolves” title track from his current album.

Dio’s lyrics tend to be direct and to the point, such as on “Stand Up and Shout,” in which he screamed “Stand up and shout! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Shout! Shout! Shout!” or “Don’t Talk to Strangers” where he reminded, “Don’t talk to strangers! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No!” You get the idea.

Former Yngwie Malmsteen keyboardist Jens Johansson did a neoclassical solo on a synth that was suspended from wires. And, in true neoclassical style, the instrument exploded when he was finished.

Rowan Robertson, an 18-year-old guitar whiz, did a similar solo turn displaying his metal fret-board technique, a style so aptly described by Frank Zappa as going “weedle-weedle-wee” a whole lot while making faces and waiting for the smoke bombs to go off (Yup, Robertson got a climatic explosion, too).

Dio’s album covers are coveted by anti-rock proselytizers, as they invariably show priests being cast into pits of fire or damned masses shuffling into hell.

Perhaps his fans were attempting to mimic that hell-bent ethos because the small but wild crowd was awash in spilled beer and some acrid, chemical-smelling smoke. (One partaking gentleman was polite enough to identify what he was smoking as PCP before he went thoroughly cow-eyed.)

It doesn’t necessarily help that kids have such great role models as KNAC-FM deejay “Dangerous Darren” who, when announcing Stryper a couple of hours earlier, burbled, “Hey man, it’s not even Dio yet,” then describing his condition with a vulgarism.

Having eschewed its overtly Christian bent, second-billed Stryper now seems nearly indistinguishable from countless other plodding metalers.

The lyrics of the Orange County-based quartet’s current “Against the Law” album may still differ in lyrical content--supporting fidelity, clean living and such--but the group’s lackluster delivery (complicated further by problems with drummer Robert Sweet’s equipment) failed to put any conviction behind the performers. And certainly their message seemed lost on this crowd.

Third-billed Love-Hate, on a lineup that also featured Dogs D’Amour and Cold Sweat, proved equally vapid in its 30-minute set.