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Review: Skid Row/Bad Touch/Aaron Buchanan & the Cult Classics, O2 Academy
With his Graham Bonnet haircut and boot-boy braces, Aaron Buchanan cuts an unusual dash for a rock frontman, but he’s got a strong voice and sure knows how to work a modestly proportioned 7:30pm crowd. At one point, he bravely attempts a crowd-surfing headstand and is not left to plummet to the floor. He also grabs a pair of drum sticks to beat a tattoo on any unattended item of amplification equipment before settling for an assault on the drummer’s cymbals. His grandly named Cult Classics aren’t too far removed from the hard rockin’ sound of his previous band, Heaven’s Basement, and provide gainful employment for his guitarist sister Laurie. But we wait in vain for the killer song that will propel them beyond bottom-of-the-bill gigs like these.
The postponement of this show from March permitted hard-working Norfolk hairies Bad Touch to clamber up a place on the bill. They certainly seize the opportunity to impress a much larger crowd than they usually pull on their club dates.
is needed now More than ever
Unlike all those young acts who look no further than the previous generation of metal bands for inspiration, this lot have a much broader musical hinterland and a rootsier approach that occasionally recalls the Black Crowes. Hell, these sharecroppers from the Ouse delta even take in a dash of the blues. And absurdly catchy new song Lift Your Head Up wouldn’t have been out of place on an early ’70s Who album.
Impressive, tonsorially extravagant frontman Stevie Westwood has that ‘young Robert Plant’ thing going on, while guitarists Rob Glendinning and Daniel Seekings really let rip during the southern rock-flavoured Outlaw, which seals the deal for the rapidly swelling crowd.
Kudos too to drummer George Drewry, who contributes backing vocals while holding down the beat. Rock radio favourite 99% wraps things up effectively and Westwood takes the opportunity to plug the band’s upcoming headline tour. Judging by the crowd response, there’ll be no shortage of takers.
Skip with me, if you will, down memory lane to nearly 30 years ago. Noo Joisey’s Skid Row are the hottest band in metal. Championed by Jon Bon Jovi (before he became the Walmart Springsteen) and touring partners of Guns’n Roses, they managed to get themselves banned for life from Wembley Stadium for rudeness and even played a memorably riotous local show at the Bristol Hippodrome (yeah, really) back in 1989. Then came the massive bust-up with bratty, charismatic and, by all accounts, insufferable frontman Sebastian Bach, who stomped off for a career on Broadway, in reality TV and as a SpongeBob Squarepants voice artist (I am not making this up).
The Other Guys then carried on to what seemed like ever-diminishing returns with a brace of singers who lacked the spark of their hyperactive predecessor but were presumably easier to live with. Skid Row’s previous Bristol gig at the Bierkeller four years ago was enjoyable enough and kept the faithful entertained, though a popularity uptick seemed unlikely. So booking in a show at the much bigger Academy was a tad ambitious. Sure enough, the balcony is closed, but the floor is comfortably full as The Ramones’ Blitzkrieg Bop announces the band’s arrival on stage.
The good news? South African former DragonForce singer ZP Theart is, by a very wide margin, the best frontman they’ve had in more than 20 years. Always a self-confessed fan of the band, he’s now clearly living the dream, grabbing Slave to the Grind by the scruff of the neck and giving the song a damn good savaging. Zippy’s evident enthusiasm also seems to have reinvigorated founder members Dave Sabo, Scotti Hill and Rachel Bolan.
As for the set, well most of it is much the same show they were playing back in 1991/92, being drawn primarily from the first two albums. There’s no question that this is exactly what the audience wants to hear, with crowd favourites like Piece of Me and (a rather over-extended) Monkey Business reminding us that Skid Row were always a much heavier proposition than the hair metal acts of the era, with a sprinkling of power ballads such as I Remember You permitting them to bridge the gulf between Bon Jovi and Pantera audiences.
As usual, Bolan takes the vocals for that odd, ill-fitting cover of The Ramones’ Psycho Therapy. But when Sabo gives a little speech thanking us for allowing an “old asshole” like himself to continue to make a living from making music, it sounds genuinely heartfelt rather than showbiz-cheesy. They leave us with – what else? – Youth Gone Wild, which prompts an unseemly outbreak of Middle-Aged People Gone Mildly Over-Excited.
All photos by Mike Evans. How come we don’t have any shots of the headliners? Mike was refused permission to photograph them. Well, it’s not like they need the publicity…
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