Joan Jett & the Blackhearts - Chicago, IL
By: Jennifer Wagner |
Sunday November 12, 2006 |
| She's got an angry vibe generally, however that Thursday she was just coming off atypically (and frankly, unattractively) moody and detached. |
| The show was dedicated to Sandy West, the drummer of Joan Jett's
embryonic, naughty-girl, career-starter The Runaways. West died recently
after a year long bout with lung cancer. "Cherry Bomb," the biggest hit
from the little rockers of yore, was the opener and it came out pretty
solid. The crowd was big and lively; the Vic's generous floor brimmed
with Jettheads packed in, young and old alike. My friend Myssa was there,
I spied her pretty blonde head just banging up house right way. I popped
in on her to say howdy and she introduced me to this very pretty
red-haired friend of hers, warning the girl, "This is Jennifer; watch out,
she'll probably try and grab your boob." The girl looked at me with mild
amusement and shrugged. I did NOT, for the record, attempt to touch any
part of her body. Not that I recall.
If only Jett were as enthusiastic as her audience was that night. She's got an angry vibe generally, which of course is part of her mass appeal, however that Thursday she was just coming off atypically (and frankly, unattractively) moody and detached. At the end of "Do You Want To Touch Me? (Oh Yeah!)," for instance, she called on the audience to help shout the chorus "Yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah!" The crowd complied, and it sounded fine to me, like everybody wanted to, oh yeah, but Jett was blatantly dissatisfied. She looked at everyone incredulously and screamed "What was that?! No, really, WHAT WAS THAT?!" It didn't come off as playful, it came off as irritated. Her relationship with her band, The Blackhearts, was tangibly disparate as well. They seemed more like scolded dogs cowering, afraid of more reprimanding than professional musicians or even men. Manager Kenny Laguna lurked conspicuously in the wings, creepy and slightly reminiscent of Bela Lugosi. He stooped over a synthesizer, filling out the sound and singing backups. When the band introductions came later in the set, he was excluded, rendering his involvement a sort of ghostly cheat; a crib sheet for the live show. Having said all that, the program itself was satisfying. A mix of the tried and true with a chunk of stuff from her new record, Sinner. The new material was well rehearsed and performed tightly, including the political call to awareness "Change the World," the gender-bending "Androgynous," and "Fetish," a driving number she's been doing live for a few years now. In addition she threw in the Bush-bashing "Riddles," and closed the show with a bemusing cover of "AC/DC". The old standbys still come out with a fair amount of energy every time, every show, every year, and that's really impressive - "Crimson and Clover" and "I Love Rock 'n Roll" must have been done by her one hundred thousand times at this point, yet she manages to bring some vigor to it. The band did their job, albeit a little beaten down at times. Drummer Thommy Price looked like a hardworking man, his blond spikes sinking with gravity as the years roll by. I've seen Jett's live show many times, so admittedly my standards for her are pretty damn high and I'll give some leeway for that. When I say the show wasn't that great, I'm comparing it to her generally awesome performances. She's a seasoned fucking professional, so I'm gauging within those parameters. Perhaps it was the death of former bandmate, lifelong friend and fellow musician West that may have influenced her mood, but for whatever reason, she was just crabby and distracted and it took away from the overall enjoyment of the night. Maybe her formerly proven playfulness and sexual drive, her snarky control, and her ever-dwindling chest have disappeared collectively into her increasingly buff arms. Please don't punch me. |
