GNR cont’d

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Rose switched gears into new GN’R material with longtime keyboardist Dizzy Reed at the helm. The duo hammered out a Use Your Illusion II-worthy ballad, “The Blues,” against comforting instrumental backup. The new song — already familiar to much of the sold-out audience due to Internet leaks — recalled “Estranged” and “Yesterdays,” with a solemn Rose crooning Elton John-like through another sad romance on the rocks. Rose still has a knack for these tender soundtracks. It’s a history often forgotten by aggressive bands reared on GN’R as children.

When and if “The Blues” ever gets released, one thing is certain: It could easily be marketed to the adult contemporary set if that is the chosen rebranded identity of the band. Despite the lengthy hiatus, Rose has not lost his vocal range and universally identifiable songwriting skills. At the end of the day, he’s a lover and a fighter. He could easily capture new hearts with the roses just as he could with the guns, as the crowd would soon see.

Rose was reluctant to firm up on the ongoing delay of the new album, Chinese Democracy, a decade in the works: “You can hold your breath a lot longer,” he replied to one heckler. At $63 a ticket, the die-hard fans were pretty easy on him, and they were rewarded with jovial candor from the historically erratic Rose. “Thank you for contributing to the chaos that is the insanity of our live rehearsals,” Rose chuckled, moments after a near spill off Reed’s piano.

The band is gearing up for a European summer stadium tour that is rumored to bend back into the United States this fall. Certainly no return promises were made by Rose, however. In fact, the back of the T-shirts for sale at the concert listed only the four Hammerstein Ballroom dates for 2006.

The easy stride of “The Blues” continued into “Live And Let Die” and “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door.” During this sing-along block, the music seemed mostly passive, controlled by the barks of jocks filling the standing-room floor and the purrs of models hanging from the venue’s six celebrity-clogged side balconies. Up until this point, it was quite easy to forget the magnitude and popularity of GN’R while watching the band play in front of maybe only 3,000 people. But when the prom themes started up, it might as well have been Brazil, 2001, with a crowd of 200,000 in attendance. At some point, music becomes secondary when you’re trying not to get crushed to death. Only Reed’s pronounced keyboards in “Live And Let Die” rose above the enraptured choir.

“Better” swatted away the sap and snapped the band back into new rock territory, pulling out more “Paradise City” stomp than the glossy demo leak would have you believe. Here and later, during “Chinese Democracy,” GN’R brimmed with confidence. Forgotten were the anemic demos and the greatest hits, even. This band was chugging toward metal independence with lightning-bolt intensity. Everyone in the venue understood here was a chance for GN’R to showcase its mettle, and attentions were tight. And here, the GN’R membership congealed. Looking like Ted Nugent in his Wolverine prime, Finck climbed above Rose, tossed aside an invisible top hat, and let loose a mighty power-chord riff to officially open a new chapter for GN’R once and for all: “Chinese Democracy” exploded, the loudest, most pummeling song of the set. The rhythm section of ex-Replacements bassist Tommy Stinson and ex-Primus drummer Brian Mantia hit a gritty mean streak that didn’t show in the paint-by-numbers classics. “Better” and “Chinese Democracy” were watershed, neo-grunge breakthroughs on the set list. You’d be sane to wonder if the new album will be more “Smells Like Teen Spirit” than anyone could have ever imagined.

The rock continued, mixing old with new, through bluesy solo interludes from guitarist Richard Fortus and the occasional flash from a female fan. Flaming pyrotechnics reminded the audience to raise arms in unison as the set hit the two-hour mark and legs began to weaken. Hit after hit — “You Could Be Mine,” “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” “Patience,” “November Rain,” et al — were pulled out for the hungry crowd of aging suburban metalheads, punks, rioters, fashionistas, and potheads. Nearing the 20th number, Rose paused the show to introduce his new progressive rock guitarist, Bumblefoot (a replacement for Buckethead, it seems), and bring out the evening’s special guest, ex-Skid Row vocalist Sebastian Bach.

If Rose could somehow manage to keep Bach, he should. The addition of a second principal vocalist to the mix again conjured the 1990 Ministry of Al Jourgensen and Chris Connelly — two shrieking beasts, trading vocals amidst a torrent of overdriven noise. In a world starved for old-fashioned rock-star danger, a dynamic duo of these two metal gods might be the perfect order. This night, Rose and Bach traded “My Michelle” verses with point-blank shrieks that reminded the audience how shockingly stark the original drug ditty was nearly 20 years ago.

“Nightrain” and “Paradise City” closed what had become an all-out rock ‘n’ roll parade with red-and-yellow confetti showers, dancing, gesticulating, stage-diving, interweaving guitar solos, audience bong hits, flashing cameras, and three towers of LCDs flickering a montage of Chinese propaganda behind the band. Rose, mouth agape, took advantage of the mania and hammed it up in preparation for mammoth European crowds. To kick-start “Paradise City,” he used a real whistle and practiced pandering to the crowd in basic English: “So, now we’re here in New York City, my new official paradise.” Each exaggerated sway and larger-than-life cheer seemed more fit for a hockey arena in Prague than a small club in Manhattan. Luckily for the now-adult fans intellectualizing his rebirth, Rose’s antics appeared more determined than grating.

The Hammerstein Ballroom event demonstrated that GN’R is capable of new life through its newest reinterpretation. Legends have fallen off the teetering GN’R train, but the current members are indeed rock stars themselves. Whether or not the new GN’R focuses more on a somewhat detached legacy than the talent and new material on-hand is up to Rose. As history shows, the dangerous appeal of GN’R relies on ditching conventions entirely.

— Mike Meyer

Category: Live Reviews, Weekly