Music Blog

I kind of wish I didn't know the score last night. I wonder if I didn't know that this was Glen Campbell's final tour, or that the entertainer has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's, whether the show would have impacted me as deeply as it did. I guess in the end it added to the achingly poignant sting of his lyrics and this bittersweet goodbye.

For his packed show at the beautiful State Theatre in Ithaca, Campbell came out swinging and strong, opening with "Forever Gentle On My Mind." The song proved that he still has the guitar chops, as he dug in to his neon blue guitar with a terse and tight twang. And at 76, the man's voice -- both range and tone -- are still intact. He rolled out all the hits, including "Galveston," "By The Time I Get To Phoenix," "Wichita Lineman," "Country Boy," "Southern Nights," and of course "Rhinestone Cowboy," along with his most excellent band, which included his daughter Ashley on banjo and keys, son Shannon on guitar, and son Cal on drums.

Ashley and Shannon opened the show with their bluegrass/Americana trio, Victoria Ghost. This group was fantastic in its simplicity, and well worth the price of admission alone. Once Glen came on stage, Ashley was particularly impressive as she kept a constant eye on her dad, feeding him lines, keys, and generally keeping him focused. There were some subtle cracks in the veneer and every now and then it was clear something wasn't quite right, but the audience rolled with it, because when Glen dug in and played, he was there 100 percent. There were a few dropped lyrics here and there, and Campbell accidently started "Rhinestone Cowboy" a second time (hell, we would have gladly sat through it again), but overall the show was strong and dignified. He brought out his wife, and mother of his children, and presented her flowers as last night was their 30th wedding anniversary. I'm so glad I was there.

Campbell is to be lauded for his courage as he faces uncertainty with a smile and a wave. It was an honor to be there to wave back.

The Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra, led by Musical Director Arild Remmereit, spared no expense last night to pack the stage of Kodak Hall to perform Mahler's Fifth Symphony. By my count there were 26 violins, nine violas, eight cellos, eight bass, harp, seven French horns, four trumpets, three trombones, one tuba, six oboes, three clarinets, four flutes, and five percussionists. The Mahler, particularly in contrast to the pairing to the smaller, lighter Grieg Piano Concerto, demonstrated the extreme range of dynamics available from the RPO.

The Mahler was every bit as dark and heavy as the composer is known to be. The program notes include a quote from Mahler (who was born in Bohemia in 1860) to a friend about the symphony, including the statement, "Neither romantic nor mystical elements belong in it, it's merely the expression of unparalleled power, that of a man in the full light of day who has reached the climax of his life." A funny description for a piece more than an hour in length, considering that the first two movements feel sufficiently tortured to leave one praying for the brief flashes of major keys and simple resolutions.

The highlight of Thursday's Mahler performance was the fourth movement. Marked "Adagietto, sehr langsam" (program-noted as "very slowly"), these notes could have been written expressly for the RPO. I have previously said that the string section of the RPO is the finest there is, and, through this movement, the strings caressed every note as if it were their last. By the time the RPO reached the final two notes of the movement, I wanted nothing more than 30 seconds of silence in which to fully appreciate the beauty of the finish.

While the Mahler was the big work of the night, my own tastes favored the Grieg with guest artist Jon Nakamatsu at the piano. Nakamatsu's rendition of Grieg's cadenza in the first movement was positively brilliant, as clean and clear as this Norwegian composer's style requires. The third movement showcased Nakamatsu's personality and, as technically challenging as the piece becomes, brought smile after smile to Nakamatsu's face. When as seasoned a performer as Nakamatsu can surrender himself to the music without having to think about it, he gives the audience a whole new depth of understanding of the work.

However, I do have two remarks about the performance. First -- and I've said this before relative to other pianists -- mezzo-piano to piano passages tend to lose the left hand in the keyboard somewhere around middle C, descending approximately two octaves. Acoustics where I sit in the upper left balcony? Temperament of the piano? Something to be conscious of, because it can leave the right hand sounding unsupported.

Also, throughout the first movement, with every character change, there was a split-second rushing, as if the final beat of the prior measure was short-changed by perhaps as little as a sixteenth. The oddity about this recurrence was my question whether the opening tempo hadn't dragged just a touch, as compared to how the movement developed and ended, once the pianist and orchestra had melded themselves into a single, working team.

Once again, an excellent program that is a credit to the musicians of our RPO.

Don't forget that if you're looking for an earlier-in-the-day, lighter version of things, you can hear Remmereit, Nakamatsu, and several musicians of the RPO at Hochstein School of Music and Dance on Sunday, October 21, at 2 p.m. Tickets available through the RPO website or at the door.

The RPO repeats the program Saturday, October 20, at 8 p.m. at Kodak Hall at Eastman Theatre, 60 Gibbs St. Tickets cost $19-$92. For more information visit the website or call 454-2100.

The Main Street Armory loomed ominous beneath a moonless sky Tuesday night as thousands lined up for the benediction within. It was like a scene out of a movie, as the soulless shuffled shoulder to shoulder past the bible beaters, buskers, and street-meat purveyors to the Twins of Evil circus inside, led by Rob Zombie and Marilyn Manson. All that was missing were torches and howling dogs. Last night the Armory was more of a rock 'n' roll abattoir, a fortress of fear, a genuine highway to hell. And it was Rob Zombie's night as he commandeered the joint like his own castle Frankenstein. It was a positively brilliant show.

• BY FRANK DE BLASE
• Rob Zombie performed as part of the Twins of Evil Tour Tuesday, October 16, at Main Street Armory.

Don't get me wrong, Manson was good, too. It's just that his darkness seems a little more serious and consuming. It's a scandalous spectacle indeed, with the man challenging decency and deity at every turn. But he seems consumed by it, as well. His sound was a lot more full-on rock than the last time I saw him. But his brand of showbiz lacks Zombie's irony and humor.

Zombie roared out on stage with "Jesus Frankenstein," and I've got to say, the stage set alone was straight out of my teenage dreams. Robots and flaming cauldrons, and confetti, and smoke, and skeletons, all before projected loops of classic horror clips and stag reels (which led me to wonder, when is Zombie going to do a Russ Meyer remake?). The setlist only had two White Zombie nuggets, "More Human Than Human" and the crowd fave "Thunderkiss '65," where guitarist John 5 kicked out the jams at lightning speed before morphing into Alice Cooper's "School's Out." What a mob, what a crowd, what a scene, what a show.

So there I was at the Bug Jar Friday night for the first of what I hope will be many Trash Wave Fests, digging on the Clockmen as the band sunk its teeth into some dangerously fast and loud thinking-man's punk (as I like to call it). This is one mighty trio, softened only by its own self-deprecation and charming goofiness. It was a full-on rock 'n' roll boogie disease that was impossible to avoid, and actually fun to catch.

The individual instrumentation I heard in the sound check with Slug Guts had me jazzed. The sax had some trippy delay on it, the guitar was thick and bright, and the drummer hit the snare with extreme prejudice. But it all got lost a little in the mix when the Brisbane, Australia band mounted the bandstand for real. The energy came on and remained seething with an antagonistic frenzy as the singer split his time between the stage and the floor and the rest of the band split its time between noise rock and post-punk oblivion. It was harsh yet engaging, referential but somehow new and unpredictable. I think I need to see the band again. You should, too.

All Time Low had Water Street Music Hall packed and screaming at an all-time high Saturday night -- so much that you could barely hear the heavy-metal thunder going on next door. All Time Low is poppy and fun with a slightly heavy edge tempered only by its mastery of melody. The funny thing is, the melody was in place during All Time Low's accelerated numbers, where most bands rely on the pound and the beat to carry their somewhat monotone vocal line. Instead, ATL applied this to its slower, lighters-in-the-air tunes. The band was loud, energetic, and animated, as was the predominantly female sing-along crowd. It also had one the best light shows I've ever seen.

It’s simple, really; if you say it’s punk rock, it ain’t punk rock. It’s like shouting to the world that you’ve taken a vow of silence. Sure, Cleveland-based Rocket From The Tombs came and went in an explosion of brutal rock ’n’ roll a few years before the punk-rock moniker was getting thrown around, but its influence, and the influence of musical offspring PereUbu and The Dead Boys, helped shape a lot of bands that were considered punk. But would it be antithetical to say so?

Who cares? It sounds good, and it sounded good at Lovin’ Cup Friday night as the band --- featuring original members, singer David Thomas and bassist Craig Bell --- played virtually everything from its catalogue and songs made popular by its offshoots. Between non-discrete nips from his flask, Thomas wailed nasally on cuts like “Ain’t It Fun” and “Sonic Reducer.” The overall sound came blasting out of the front end in a solid fury for the 100 or so faithful waiting for the benediction.

Mofo’s guitarist Gary Siperko ---one of the three newbies in the current line-up --- added an incredible thrash, slash, and crash, culminating with lead vocals on “Strychnine.” Very punk rock… or not.

Saturday night, New Jersey ’s blues guitar master, Billy Hector, had the packed Dinosaur percolating as he bent, stretched, goosed, and burned the blues with a set full of hot-roddedsonics, arrangements, and lyrics. Hector and his trio took whole sets of lyrics like Bo Diddley’s “I Can Tell” and plugged them into a completely different song style. The best example was while covering Hendrix’s “Hey Joe,” he fleshed out the conversation between the narrator and Joe, calling him an “asshole since second grade.” I laughed my head off.