Wayback Machine: Concret Blonde at the GAMH

Originally written for Intune in Feb 2002.


After almost eight years out of the spotlight, Johnette Napolitano reforms Concrete Blonde for a solid night in San Francisco.

Next door to the world's most famous skin-club,the O'Farrell Theatre, (aka Mitchell Bros - a place that among other things, once boasted Hunter S. Thompson as its doorman, as well as the scandal around the murder of one of the Mitchell Brothers by the other) is the Great American Music Hall, a sumptuous edifice of balcony seating and open floor space decorated in a era long gone by (probably because its from that era) and in a similar vein to places like the Warfield and the Fillmore. It is a warm place, organic, womb-like, and exudes a dark, sensual character at the door. An ideal place for the emotionally rich and raw performance of CB.

CB was formed in the early 1980s and was originally very much in the same realm as X, Stan Ridgeway, and any number of other acts on Miles Copeland's I.R.S. label (yes, Miles, is the brother to Stewart). After early efforts produced a growing cult following, their third release Bloodletting produced a certified Top 10 hit in the depressingly poignant Joey. From there they produced two more albums before calling it quits. 2002 marks their return with a new album called Group Therapy and a live show with sufficient kick to make going out in winter on a weeknight worthwhile (ok, I live in California so that only means so much, but you get the idea).

The night began with a flamenco-flavoured act called Mojacan (a guitarist, a percussionist and a dancer)...musically fairly engaging, but the dancer was less then attractive and the contortions she made wwith her face made the dance seem like it was more torture than a form of beautiful experssion...too bad. Johnette actually joined them for a song or two and it was certainly a good act to warm up the audience. But after 30 minutes, the real reason we were all there was about to begin...

Johnette Napolitano (bass, keys, vocals) looks healthier than she has in a while. Happier too. She led Jim Mankey (guitar, bass on one song) and Harry Rushakoff (drums) through a riotous set of new and old material that shot out and kept rolling with no abatement for over an hour. They sounded clear, with Mankey's jangly 6-stringery and Rushakoff's post-pop-punk stomp keeping things lively with Johnette holding the low end down and the vocals soaring. Unlike many of her contemporaries, Johnette actually doesn't scream, she sings....impressively at that. She belts like a pissed off punk-diva invoking the spirit of Janis Joplin fueled by the memory of her own excesses and driven by the need to survive. It is pretty powerful mojo that goes on. I dared not get too close.

She covered some favorites, including a blasting God is a Bullet, Someday, and of course Joey (a song I never had much liking for, but took a whole new stance in a live setting). The only real downer for me were that two of my fave tracks from the CB oeuvre were not done...Ghost of a Texas Ladies Man and the exquisite Mexican Moon. It's ok, I still have the albums. The new material is great as well, and seems to keep going right from where they left off in 1995 - and that does not mean it sounds dated, it means it sounds like a natural progression rather than a jerky cut ahead.

The band was well received and gave of themselves freely, with Johnette speaking frankly and joking with the audience. All in all a worthwhile show from a band that had been gone way too bloody damn long.