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NEWS :
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08.28.1997 11:13 AM EDT
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Disappointing Set From Kelly Deal 6000
by
Addicted To Noise's Randy Reiss
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SAN FRANCISCO -- "You know, I didn't brush my teeth today," Kelly Deal informed the audience. "I'm sorry. Is my tongue gross? Is there anything in my teeth?"
It was, unfortunately, a tip-off that the Kelly Deal 6000's set would
suffer from the same lack of attention Deal, a former member of the Breeders, had brought to personal hygiene. With the exception of a few twangy ballads and quirky rockers, Deal's set was low on energy and focus. Granted, much of the material they were playing was new, but many of the songs could have been pushed toward the edge of greatness if they only had the energy and showmanship of opening acts OtherStarPeople and Dura Delinquent.
But they didn't.
Dura Delinquent played an extended Stooges-like set; with their cross-dressed, Jagger-on-a-bad-day-faced guitarist continually dry humping the speakers while the singer strutted about with the microphone shoved halfway down his throat. The rhythm section played the straight-laced Wyman/Watts roles, keeping a tight beat and a straight face while their bandmates acted out. The band played like they were trying to fill New York City's Madison Square Garden , and the 20 or so guest-listed folk watching the implosion were quite appreciative. With no audience, the band was dangerously great; with a crowd gathered, they might be lethal.
Up next were ex-L7 bassist-turned-guitarist Jennifer Finch's new band, OtherStarPeople, a choreographed rock act with each member sporting a rock star personae. While bassist Junko Ito's moves were mostly borrowed from Courtney Love, Finch was all about rocking out like Kim Gordon, guitarist/singer Xander Smith was a well-dressed and tattoo-less member of Social Distortion and drummer Chris Bratton had his Keith Moon/John Bonham act down pat. In a sense, they were the other end of the spectrum from Dura Delinquent. No one missed a cue or moved unless everyone else did, but their bone crunching sound was tight and the rock star moves done out of love for the traditions, not out of irony.
While the opening acts played up to the venue, The Kelly Deal 6000 played down to it. Kicking off her set with the military snare drum filled "Total War," Deal rode the fine line between opening with a clever number to get attention and opening with a ballad to show how much of an artist you are. Unfortunately for the audience, much of what followed felt more like a dress rehearsal run through.
When the band found its groove, though, it was a remarkable sight to behold. Heartbreak and yearning filled the air during "When He Calls Me Kitten," a slow burning, country-fried torch song which rightfully deserves to be the song that one plays over and over again when thinking about a far-away love. Guitarist Todd Mund branched out during "Stripper," a song most other bands might have mistakenly relegated to a B-side, and played a children's xylophone while Deal sang like a child about wanting approval from the adult world. It was also nice to see that her Ann Wilson-styled vocals on the earth-moving "Confidence Girl" are the real thing, not studio manipulation.
Those moments, however, were few and far between. The songs were all competently performed, just without any sense of enthusiasm. The hard-driving "Last Of The Hard Men," for example, sounded fine enough. But watching the band go through the motions of performing it was as entertaining as, well, watching a band go through the motions of performing.
Deal's interactions with the audience were cheerful but scattered. She would start to tell a story and then go off on a brief tangent before realizing that "...this story isn't really for such a large crowd. Sorry."
She introduced a few songs with "Here's a song you've never heard before. And since we don't get played on the radio, you might not hear it again." Which is a fine way to introduce a song, but she continued on speaking in jumpy, half sentences about recording on a small label and the lack of industry support and whatnot.
When it came time to close the show, the band turned to the classics, not necessarily Deal's own either. First off was a cover of Motorhead's "Ace Of Spades" with Mund on vocals. They didn't do anything new to the song and Mund lacks the dog-from-hell vocal stylings of Lemmy that it takes to scare the listener into submission.
Then, in a move that smelled a lot like admitting defeat, Deal invited the opening acts back on stage to help her with Iggy Pop's "I Wanna Be Your Dog." What could have been a cursory jam session turned into an explosion of screeching guitars, flailing bodies and stage diving into the 100 people in the audience. And that was just the members of Dura Delinquent. Deal sang the vocals while sitting on the drum riser, seemingly overwhelmed by it all and probably glad to be at the end of her set.
While the bouncers dragged the members of Dura Delinquent off stage, the band played on and Deal tried speaking into a microphone that had long since been turned off. When the music stopped, the microphone was turned back on just long enough for Deal to smile slyly at the cheering crowd and say "Thank you for coming out. Good night."
And into the night went a crowd of Kelly Deal 6000 fans, one of whom, when asked for an assessment of Deal's set said, "It was pretty good, but the opening acts were crazy!" [Thurs., Aug. 28, 1997, 9 a.m. PST]
 
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