We saw two shows in almost a month's time at the Best Buy Theatre in New York City, separated only by a little massively destructive storm named Sandy. So here's a 2-for-1 Best Buy special -- reviews of both shows in one place at one time.
The first was the same day as Chiller Theatre marking the 30th anniversary of Asia. And the second, Rick Springfield, with material from the new album ("Songs for the End of the World") -- and not the one he has called new for the past three or four years ("Venus in Overdrive").
These shows were like sense memory explorations for me, taking me to another time and place. My sister and I used to rewrite the lyrics to "Heat of the Moment" -- first as an excuse for getting wet on the way home from the mall ("It was the heat of the moment, telling us to go through the sprinklers") and then every year after its release ("And now you find yourself in '82" to '83, '84 and so on so forth).
And Rick, well, Rick's been well documented in my blogs. My first musical love, I credit him for being the gateway to many of the other artists I ended up taking to heart.
Mark didn't think much of going to Asia, but he actually ended up enjoying it. And never a problem getting him to go to Rick, he likes him as a musician and songwriter. As he tells it, he's always more open to my musical taste than I am to his.
Seeing Asia brought back a memory I hadn't really considered in years. In elementary school when everyone picked the instruments they wanted to play, I wanted more than anything to be a drummer. I wound up with the cornet -- and that only lasted a couple weeks or so, since I couldn't play the darned thing.
I do believe that Carl Palmer is heavily responsible for that wish due to his work on the self-titled Asia album. Although I have unflagging adoration for guitarists, I didn't air guitar, I jammed on the air beat on the skins.
At any rate, Carl is the key to the reunited Asia having the power and presence it does. He came into the show at Best Buy seemingly foisting the group on his back with energy and general enjoyment.
That's not to put down John Wetton's vocals, which are another key to Asia, as he provides the signature sound akin to Steve Perry with Journey or David Lee Roth with Van Halen. To paraphrase a commercial of the day, two great tastes that taste great together.
Steve Howe provides another piece to the puzzle. The seminal guitarist really proved his worth at the show when the group divvied up the workload and he played acoustically on his own. Some blues, a lot of feeling and a little humor when he chided that bane of audience existence -- people talking during a song they don't know.
Not much opportunity for what was deemed the "5 percent ruining it for everyone else" during Carl's solo at the end of "Holy War," since he was beating the heck out of his drums. The beat just pulsated through every nerve ending and made the air drummer in me equal parts jealous and appreciative
John and keyboardist Geoff Downes had their moments on a couple of songs as well with "The Smile Has Left Your Eyes" and "Cutting It Fine." It was a great way to keep the musicians and the audience happy at the same time. Well, except for the 5 percent.
What that minority came for, of course, were the hits -- "Heat of the Moment," "Only Time Will Tell," "Soul Survivor" and "Don't Cry." Still don't understand why the people who only want to hear those don't stay home and put their CD on repeat, but they were delivered with great gusto.
It's difficult to talk about Rick Springfield without a word like "gusto." He just barrels through his set like there couldn't be any other life choice for him. On this occasion, he also charged through me, but I'll get to that in due time.
His setlist has been reworked with the old new album songs coming out in favor of the two strongest tracks from the new new album, "I Hate Myself" and "Our Ship's Sinking." We got "Living in Oz" instead of album mate "Alyson," which is a plus change in my book. Also returning to the set was the montage of hits, starting with the complete "I Get Excited" before seguing into bits and pieces of "Bop 'Til Ya Drop," "Celebrate Youth," "Calling All Girls," "Don't Walk Away," "State of the Heart" and "What Kind of Fool Am I."
Just a word about "Calling All Girls" inclusion here, mostly so I avoid saying how I could do without the final two songs in the montage (oops). But again, flashback to the past. When I was on junior varsity gymnastics, I was riding the late school bus home and the ROCK station played Rick Springfield. That song, not released as a single was played on an album station and without attaching a bubble-gum label to a great songwriter.
Rick still pays heed to his own influences. Mark wanted to hear "Jet" and not hear "Red House," and that's precisely what happened. Plus, order now and get a special bonus, "Can't Buy Me Love!" We got "Jet" early on and then a few licks of "Red House," which worried Mark until his frown turned upside down when that eventually became "Crossroads." "Can't Buy Me Love" wouldn't have been much of a surprise if I'd read the message boards before the show, so I'm glad I didn't do that.
And now on to when I got the "Human Touch" from Rick. He always makes his way through the crowd during that song. And although he quickly was having problems with the chairs that easily fold up, he kept on truckin' through the crowd. I was just jamming and not reaching for him -- I do feel like I've filled a certain quota on that front -- but he must have slipped on my slick jacket and sorta fell on me.
Mark quickly helped him along, and I was left doubled over ... in laughter. I've tended to get knocked around during concerts, but I certainly minded less when it was Rick! More than the "human touch," more like a quarterback sack. And Rick always says he wasn't any good at sports. I'll agree to disagree on that one.
So these were our last two concert dates before the prophesized end of the world on Dec. 12, and I honestly wouldn't have it any other way. "Teenage ambitions you'll remember well" indeed.
I would pay good money to see you gettin' sacked by Rick Springfield. Would even sell my "Heavy Metal" magazine collection for that one. heh heh heh
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