The New Cars & Blondie Live!
The New Cars, Blondie
Ravinia, Highland Park
Saturday, June 3, 2006
Either the glam-leaning power pop of the ’80s is coming back in full swing or the groups who led the genre the first time around are tired of hearing their ideas borrowed and are coming back to reclaim their thrones. After all, everyone from The Killers to Franz Ferdinand to The Bravery to The Sounds have been flashing a snapshot of retro excess, thus sparking up attention towards the bands that paved the way.
Among those leading the list are The Cars and Blondie, both of which have managed to remain relatively cool even two decades after each act’s prime with neither throwing in the towel just because they became oldies acts by default. Though there was a time not that long ago when Blondie was making the Rib Fest circuit (Naperville to be exact in 2003), a Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame nod and brand-new, double-disc retrospective on Capitol (Greatest Hits: Sound & Vision) have given the group yet another breath of life and much more legitimate billing at Ravinia. And right along for the ride is the slightly renamed incarnation of The New Cars, who once ran neck and neck with their tourmates on the charts and are being equally revered (and often ripped off) from the current crop.
The New Cars topped off the night, though this time through town, a completely retooled incarnation cruised through the band’s catalog. Original guitarist Elliot Easton and keyboardist Greg Hawkes were the only two originals rounded out by the somewhat odd choice for lead vocals: Todd Rundgren, bassist Kasim Sulton (who was with Rundgren in Utopia), and regularly roaming session man Prairie Prince (formerly of The Tubes). Though co-vocalist and bassist Benjamin Orr died of cancer in 2000, the real question is why couldn’t fellow frontman Ric Ocasek step up to the plate and where was drummer David Robinson? While Robinson’s current whereabouts are less certain, Ocasek claims he’s too busy with a solo career and steady production work, though he probably could’ve broken away from those duties for a few weeks on tour. Nevertheless, in the sprit of Queen + Paul Rodgers, The Doors Of The 21st Century, INXS, and so many others of yesteryear, the band played on.
Of course the major difference between The New Cars and any of those aforementioned acts is that aside from Orr, their other singer is still alive. Those packed onto the sold out lawn and pavilion seemed less concerned about who was singing, but rather the songs themselves, which admittedly had been long overdue when it came to being performed in public. And anyone going into the event skeptical soon found themselves wrapped up in cavalcade of classics: “Hello Again,” “Let’s Go,” “My Best Friend’s Girl,” and “You Might Think” in all their hand-clapping glory. In some strange way, Rundgren’s pipes sounded similar to Ocasek’s (as long as one didn’t listen too closely), and his star power in and of itself added some authenticity over an unknown replacement.
Yet the mood turned sour come a look at Orr’s ballad “Drive” (sung by an out-of-range Sulton), which truly halted the momentum of the set, only to be followed by Rundgren’s obnoxious “Bang The Drum.” If he insisted on pulling out something else with mainstream familiarity from his solo career (which he did earlier through “I Saw The Light”) why not the much more pleasant “Hello It’s Me”? Yet the line-up’s light turned from red to green thanks to encores “Just What I Needed” and “Let The Good Times Roll,” signaling the Cars could continue even if “New” had to be added to the title. (After all, it’s better to have these songs presented by an imperfect personnel list than have them parked in a vault forever unattended).
As for Blondie, the real backbone of the group has always been singer Deborah Harry, who may look more like a mom these days than a punk-primed Madonna, but still delivers as a performer and vocalist. She prowled around to the opening cries of “Call Me,” did her fair share of bouncing throughout the group’s 1990s comeback cut “Maria,” and directed an audience choir throughout the Caribbean-flavored “The Tide Is High.” “Rapture” has evolved immensely since being cut more than 20 years ago, replacing its somewhat basic disco beats and harmless rap for a much more thrashy (and trashy) facelift, carried by Harry’s rapidly sung sonnets. Yet the resplendent pair of finales “One Way Or Another” and “Heart Of Glass” cemented the group’s staying power, which despite obvious physical aging, hasn’t slowed down Blondie’s musicality a single step.
— Andy Argyrakis
Category: Live Reviews, Weekly
