Last night I learned an important lesson about programming a set list: Familiarity breeds contempt in many areas, but not in the live music department. I don’t think I will back off from this point of view ever again, no matter what pressure I get from future band members. New songs are good to introduce to keep things fresh from a band’s perspective, but they do next-to-nothing for an audience when compared to songs they know and love.
I saw Ginger play on July 16th at the Viper Room. His band was the same as last night: Billy Morrison (guitar), Michael Butler (bass), Scott Lipps and a guy named Beans traded off playing drums. I was new to the music of Ginger/The Wildhearts. The show was good, and I blogged about it from the standpoint of not knowing the songs, which wasn’t very informative (probably because I didn’t feel very much about it one way or the other). Most bands can play, that doesn’t mean much to me, really, unless the songs are strong.
A couple weeks after that gig, Michael announced on his Rock and Roll Geek Show podcast that he’d be playing bass for a follow-up August 26th Viper Room Ginger performance. I decided to familiarize myself with the set list (Butler announced the songs) so I could post a more appropriate review this time around. I had a feeling that there was something special about this music. Ginger is one of Michael’s favorite songwriters and as an avid listener of his various podcasts, I had confidence in Butler’s taste.
I typed out the list of songs, bought all the ones I could find on iTunes and got a little help on the albums that seem to be out of print. Then I programmed a playlist in the order of the July 16th set (I got the order of the songs from a TwitPic Michael posted of the set list). I tagged three additional songs Michael mentioned were being added to the end (“Nita Nitro”, “Suckerpunch” and an 8’ 14” hook-laden masterpiece called “Schizophonic”). I dragged the playlist to my iPod and played it loud every day, on repeat, during my hour commute to work and back for three weeks.
My feeling now about Ginger’s songs is that like all the best music, they’re not as much like crack cocaine (not that I have ever smoked crack, mind you), as nicotine. At first you don’t feel the need to have it, but after a few repeat visits, you just can’t stop. It is amazing how once a song becomes part of us, our entire perspective changes. I’ll never understand how people can evaluate songs upon first listen, because the songs that grow the most seem often to be the ones we don’t like so much at first.
That’s one reason why I think songwriting contests are such bullshit. Judges don’t have time to truly evaluate the entries (songwriters take heed; don’t throw your money away on songwriting contests! The winners are likely picked in advance or are fucking someone in charge anyway).
The exhilarating experience of internalizing this music wasn’t like anything I’ve experienced very many times in my adult life. In the ‘00s, only Velvet Revolver’s Contraband and John Frusciante’s Shadows Collide with People albums have had this kind of impact on me. You know the kind of thing where you repeat a record over and over for weeks and weeks and only like it more as a result. It becomes your soundtrack, you can’t wait to get back to the car to put it on, and you’ll take extra trips around the block to finish a song. At least I do that…
I couldn’t wait to hear these songs again live with my newfound perspective. I was excited about the show and tried to get friends to come with me to share the experience (if I had Wildhearts fans for friends I’d surely have been made a fan years ago). I got no takers and in true Rock and Roll Geek fashion, I went to the show alone.
The ‘80s Sunset Strip staple, San Francisco’s Jetboy (who Michael Butler regularly plays bass for) opened. They are a great live band. Song-wise, I thought the first and last songs were their best. Everyone did their job on the stage. Lead singer Mickey Finn’s mohawk stood up straight, they rocked out like they meant it and hit all their marks. It was a tiring set for me, but you know, I am not familiar with the songs. Someone behind me commented that they wished they could fastforward their set (I laughed because this is something Michael always says about his podcast “You can always fastforward my friends”).
Waiting for Ginger to come on seemed like forever. I don’t do well standing for hours, and was starting to wish I could just sit down somewhere.
But when that curtain opened I was glad I hung in there. From the opening chords of “I Wanna Go Where the People Go”, I was energized like I haven’t been since the original Rollins Band 2006 reunion show (which I usually cite as my favorite concert experience of all time). I could have easily stood up for the entire Wildhearts and Ginger solo catalogues. That’s the power of live music, man. It’s healing like nothing else in the world. I clapped along, sang along (which I almost never do at shows) and must admit that a few tears were shed.
The guitars were crisp and loud, the mix was perfect. This did not feel like a hired gun situation at all. As far as I’m concerned, these guys should be The Wildhearts.
There was a small group of Wildhearts fanatics next to me. When Ginger announced “Nita Nitro”, a song he never thought he’d play again because he thought it was “absolute rubbish”, they flipped out in a way that rivaled the front-row Springsteen fans at the Jersey, Meadowlands show I attended in May.
That’s when it hit me. This guy is a hard rock Springsteen. He’s that good. He should be headlining stadiums. I know he’s much closer to that in Europe, but here in America, I couldn’t even give away a ticket to see him in a club. This illustrates how clueless and mediocre the bean-counter major labels are. I’m not saying this from the perspective that Ginger deserves to be a rock star. The more important point is that the world would be a better place if he were. These songs would heal as many wounded souls and broken hearts as The Boss if given half the chance.
Standout tracks for me were “My Baby is a Headfuck”, “29 x The Pain”, “Loveshit” (featuring a heartwarming performance by Ginger’s childhood hero, Michael Lee Smith of the band Starz on lead vocals) , “Vanilla Radio” and the country-tinged ballad “This is Only a Problem” (Ginger said he’d never played “Schizophonic” live before and it may have been the best song of the night, as well as a rock history moment to remember).
They did not play my favorite song, “Sick of Drugs”, which really bummed me out, but you know, they had to make room in the set for “Rebel Yell” with Steve Stevens guesting on lead guitar. It’s a good song. A hit. I saw Billy Idol a few years ago and I fuckin’ rocked out hard to “Rebel Yell”, but it was the worst song of the night compared to Ginger’s. The audience, however, went wild (which further substantiates my point about the live music experience being exponentially better when you know the songs). I think many in the crowd didn’t know too much of Ginger’s music, at least compared to the classic “Rebel Yell”. They should have been supplied with a copy of my playlist…
I think I’d have had another opinion of “Rebel Yell” if they’d have played it at the July show alongside the set of songs I wasn’t yet in love with. Familiarity breeds fans when it comes to live shows. Play your hits, people! Give the people what they want! We can’t help it, don’t be offended, it’s only biology!
(check out video of the gig here)
Today the heat was even bad on the West Side so I decided to go to a movie (no air conditioning in my house). I intended on going to see Inglorious Basterds, but chose at the last second to buy a ticket for H2 instead.
This week I premiere a new 
