Pop Music Review : Dim Material From Electric Lightweights

The Electric Light Orchestra was one of those faceless bands from the 1970s and ‘80s that waxed hit after hit without ever even hinting at a readily identifiable personality--think of Toto, Kansas, etc., and you’ll get the idea. You’ve probably heard all of ELO’s big songs--which usually sound like cheap imitations of the Beatles strained through the falsetto-wheezing of the Bee Gees--but can’t begin to visualize what the group looked like.

ELO Part Two, which played a pair of shows at the Coach House on Saturday night, ups the ante of anonymity to ludicrous proportions.

Now lacking the stewardship of Jeff Lynne--the sole member of ELO with even a modicum of charisma, not to mention being the one who wrote and sang virtually all the hits--this latest incarnation of an already indistinct group might as well be any capable Top 40 Oldies band aping note-for-note covers at a bowling alley near you.

With old ELO-ers Bev Bevan on drums, Kelly Groucutt on bass, Mike Kaminski on violin and Lou Clark on keyboards augmented by newcomers Phil Bates on guitar and Eric Troyer on still more keyboards, the band is as bland as an unsalted rice cake, sounding wholly uninspired and obviously back in the game to milk whatever bucks it can off the nostalgia of aging baby boomers.

Its stage antics and fashion sense are as mired in the ‘70s as its music. Bevan wore a puffy-sleeved, pattern print shirt that would have looked right at home on Rollo from “Sanford and Son.” Bates exhorted the crowd with the oh-so-old, oh-so-worn “Does anybody wanna rock ‘n’ roll tonight!” battle cry, and actually added “I can’t hear you!” when people failed to thrust their Bics skyward in response.

Most embarrassing was bald, paunchy Groucutt, bedecked in ‘70s rock star regalia that included a purple hat, numerous multicolored scarves tied into his ponytail, and skintight pants of indeterminate but apparently highly flammable fabric. Groucutt bounced around the stage like a “Brady Bunch” kid overdosed on Twinkies. The entire band engaged in choreographed, clap-your-hands-over-your-head, obviously fake enthusiasm throughout the show.

A quite disturbing spectacle.

Musically, there is no denying that ELO Two was tight, professional and Teflon-slick as it played such dated favorites as “Evil Woman,” “Lyin’ Thing,” “Can’t Get You Out of My Head,” “Turn to Stone,” “Rockaria!” and “Telephone Line” along with a smattering of undistinguished new material. But the versions were straight offa the records with no new arrangements or improvisational flourishes, no creative spark, no attempt to do anything but pander to the memories of the sparse but enthusiastic early-show crowd.

For all their rehearsed flailing, the band members still managed to look bored as hell, and who could blame them, really? Punching a time clock is not exciting activity, particularly when you’ve been doing the same job for decades.