Oh, the glory of the rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle: 20,000 onlookers, a complimentary substance buffet, 15 blonde barbie bimbos waiting back stage, and your favorite rock star in tight pants, chops and scene-ster flannel. Too bad your rock icon is trippin’, buggin’ out, fit shaced or a very possible combination of all three, leaving you with shattered expectations after an abysmal show. Your heroes always let you down.
I love music. I love live music more. I am a concert fanatic, and I am sick of being victim to the scenario mentioned above. So how about a University of Wisconsin “show-and-blow” policy for rock stars? You laugh … I cry.
I recently attended Stone Temple Pilot’s reunion tour following their seven-year hiatus. I was high on adrenaline and ready for a rock spectacle. If the amps could go to “11” on the volume knob, this was the time. Big lights, big crowd and big ticket prices I was more than willing to pay to see one of my ’90s rock favorites.
Unfortunately, STP’s rehab-veteran front man Scott Weiland came to party, not to perform. It was sad to see my once favorite rock star mumbling lyrics, stumbling aimlessly and looking a lot like Kenny Rodgers after a facelift. The band couldn’t get it together behind the gibberish being belted out by their train-wreck lead singer. I’d just as soon have Piccolo Pete fronting STP, rocking a fiddle solo over “Plush” in an orange jumpsuit. The show suffered. The fans suffered. And Scott Weiland suffered the worst hangover of the tour.
The rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle certainly ruins its fair share of concerts, as well as musicians. A tour bus with a coke dispenser and a 3-1 bong-to-human ratio never helped anybody’s cause. Touring brings a minefield of hazards where addictive personalities crumble. City after city, the pressures of the road ruin buzz-dependent musicians like Scientology ruins celebrities. Rock giants like Jim Morrison and Jimi Hendrix relied on substance as a creativity window, blowing all kinds of minds in the process, including their own.
Musicians have an obligation to their fans. These are the loyal die-hards who know the albums, sing the words and allow these artists to play music for a living. Music enthusiasts take pride in supporting their favorite acts, and they expect a heart-pouring performance in return. So clean it up rock icons. And hats off to those musicians who perform with pure enthusiasm, precision, professionalism and maybe even personally sell you their disc at the merch table after the show.
The music scene has taught me a lot recently. I’ve learned ’90s rock is washed up, good shows come in small venues, and Clay Aiken actually does have a closet in his home.
That being said, we’re all going to witness those really bad shows with technical difficulties, a weak set list or a lousy band, but never should a show be compromised due to heavy substance abuse. Save Jack Daniels for after the gig; the fans don’t deserve it. For many people, music is their medicine; it is their pulse, it is that desire to go to the dark, stingy Annex on a Monday night to catch the hard-hitting, melodic euphoria I call rock ‘n’ roll.
Brett Wisniewski ([email protected]) is a senior majoring in journalism.
