MiG Music 2024
Live At Rockpalast 1979
On the first performance of their first European tour, Champaign’s finest drink the wine of success.
Formed before the acronym AOR, which they’ve always been associated with, was in force, this ensemble, wearing another initialism for a name, may have shot to fame with “Hi Infidelity” in 1980, but, to many, they were so much interesting on a pre-behemoth level, and here’s the proof. When the five-strong throng hit the stage of “Markthalle” in Hamburg in November 1979, they seemed to be at the top of their game, ready to give the local crowd six out of nine cuts from that year’s “Nine Lives” – with four presented in the order they ran on the band’s then-latest album, – and the audiovisual document of the Illinoisan’s European debut retained its magnetic allure four-and-a-half decades further down the line.
As preserved on CD and DVD, the collective don’t waste time building momentum and take the bull by the horns by starting the show with the invigorating reading of “Say You Love Me Or Say Goodnight” with spotlight trained on Kevin Cronin and Gary Richrath, who sport matching outfits – the former a black singlet with red scarf, the latter a black-and-red striped shirt – and matching sunburst-finished Les Pauls, and go for frantic sweetness that sets the tone for the entire concert. And once Neal Doughty, resplendent in a white jacket and white fedora, and Bruce Hall, dressed in a white blouse, unleash boogie passages on their respective grand piano and bass, punters can’t fail to feel the quintet’s velvet-glove punch which will be carried over to the equally energetic, if more histrionically hilarious and expansive, “Like You Do” and sustained to the end of the evening, where “Golden Country” balances epic thinking with light-hearted mood and stunning dynamic nuance.
There’s a proper heft heaped on “Heavy On Your Love” that allows Richrath to let rip with mighty riffs and a series of vibrant solos and Cronin to reveal the full power of his pipes, fueled with Alan Gratzer’s rapid-fire drumming, and pop-sensibility at the fore of “Only The Strong Survive” brought forth in front of the audience even stronger than in a studio version. But there’s also camp spirituality in “Roll With The Changes” which sees the singer cross over to a keyboard and his mates engage in honeyed vocal harmonies, and muscular bluesy sway to “The Unidentified Flyin’ Tuna Trot” in which the musicians demonstrate the impressive scope of their instrumental interplay, Gary’s broken string not stopping him from serving up a filigreed wigout. And while “Back On The Road Again” finds Bruce step to the microphone and lay down a few tasty verses and refrains and Neal run his fingers across Hammond, adding roar to the fire, “Keep Pushin'” and “Ridin’ The Storm Out” snap the band back to infectious arena-rock, until their usual couple of Chuck Berry covers, delivered as encores and as a means to get the writer of “Little Queenie” and “Rock ‘n’ Roll Music” out of jail, emphasize the five Americans’ frivolity.
That’s top-notch entertainment – despite a non-too-pristine sound quality – and a cheeky innocence that the guys would soon trade for world dominance. While it lasted, it was tremendous.
*****
