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Roseland Ballroom, New York March 2, 2002 By C. Bottomley Although I personally can't imagine snowboarders doing anything else other than hurtling down ravines and recuperating in the hospital, the organizers of this year's SnoCore tour know that après boarding is best spent around a roaring fire, sipping hot cocoa and enjoying the sound of angst-metal. Hence this package featuring Alien Ant Farm and three other bands that could make your eardrums bleed even through the woolliest of muffs. First up was the Apex Theory. Judging from their academic air this Los Angeles quartet enjoy conjugating Latin verbs, so little wonder their mathcore's rhythmic twists came with an egghead vibe. But there's an unmistakable forward thrust at work, too: Current single "(Shh ... Hope Diggy)" is Rage Against the Machine's "Killing in the Name" with Armenian lyrics, and a good chunk of the audience moshed through the band's entire set. It's a lot harder to ignore Glassjaw's Daryl Palumbo. The showboating front man unfurled his band's banner, emblazoned with the World Trade Center, and cried, "New York, I want you to say hello to ... New York." He then interspersed "When One Eight Becomes Two Zeros" with a few lines from "New York, New York." Later in the set he changed into a T-shirt reading "I love New York." We got the point. Once you cut through the ham and cheese, however, Glassjaw rock as hard as protégés of new metal uber-producer Ross Robinson should. The bass popped like an assault rifle and both guitars made dark ugly noises. It was a little like Rage fronted by a Star Search winner. While the Apex Theory emphasized "positivity" and Glassjaw lust for life, Adema represented the paranoid side of modern living. "Don't let your bitch run your life!" cried singer Mark Chavez (incidentally, the half-brother of Korn's Jonathan Davis), before "Blow It All Away" launched enough evil power chords to light up the entire West Coast. "Don't you ever trust anyone!" he warned by way of introduction to "Close Friends." A fan next to me claimed Adema had been partying a little too hard while touring with Linkin Park, but the woozy Bakersfield quintet still made an impression. Drummer Kris Kohls is the only man I've ever seen with tattooed armpits, and the band's second guitarist wears the only haircut ever inspired by Wayne's World's partying protagonist, Garth. That takes balls. But maybe the road was starting to take its toll. Chavez was about to announce another song when he noticed the rest of the band had left the stage. It can only provide more grist for his unhappy mill. Long may Adema think their phones are tapped. Watching two bands blow each other off stage and a third take themselves out is not the best introduction for any headliner, and SoCal's Alien Ant Farm struggled to find their momentum. The group certainly has character. AAF's bassist Tye Zamora, for instance, could give Glassjaw mugging lessons. He doesn't so much play bass as distill the personalities of all three Stooges (the Moe, Curly and Larry yucksters, not the Iggy, Ron and Scott aggregate). Guitarist Terry Corso can also make his instrument sound like three musicians are playing at once. Somewhere in the middle is singer Dryden Mitchell, who seemed somewhat tuckered out having spent 14 months on the road. Tunes are in shorter order. It's true that their current hit "Movies" in insanely catchy, but they held it in reserve until close to the set's end - preferring to dabble in the otherwise anonymous riffing of other tunes. Hopes of glory are raised, then dashed, when it turns out that at least three of their songs have identical introductions to their hit cover of Michael Jackson's "Smooth Criminal." While on a good night AAF are Blink-182 if they listened to Anthrax, this time their set - Bad Brains covers and all - was out to prove that there's more to their music than punch-lines and a Michael Jackson song. It actually left one wishing for more punch-lines. When, as a finale, Mitchell asked whether we wanted to hear their version of "Smooth Criminal" or Sade's "Smooth Operator," the answer was obvious. The crowd surfed merrily over the security barriers one more time and then it was all over. Now where's my hot chocolate? |
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