Live Review: Hulk / DKT/MC5

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Hulk (B) / DKT/MC5 (USA)

02/24/05
AB, Brussels

MC5 Set List: Ramblin' Rose / ??? (forgot this one) / Tonight / Call Me Animal / Sister Anne / High School / American Ruse / Motor City Is Burning / Over and Over / Shakin' Street / Looking at You / Miss X / Human Being Lawnmower / Kick Out the Jams / I Believe to My Soul / Rocket Reducer No. 63 (Rama Lama Fafafa) // Starship

It's okay to have fun on stage, brothers and sisters!

It was the second gig by Hulk in less than a week (damn, these guys get to play with a bunch of cool bands out there), but I'd rather have these guys and their brand of no nonsense rock 'n' roll than the hippest hit of the moment. As I expected, the sound of the power-trio was much more impressive in the small Sojo-venue last Saturday, where they were able to take the volume up to an insane level, but the energy was there and made up for the less overwhelming decibel-storm and half-filled venue. So, they definitely sounded less thunderous, but there were plenty of people who were probably quite baffled by this band they perhaps had never even heard of before. Personal favorites: the cool swagger of "Real Rocker," the Motörhead-chug of "Never Walk This Way" and the set closer (same as the previous time): the hyper rock 'n' roll of "Everybody Does," which is - simply put - a great song.

You have no idea how much I was looking forward to the DKT/MC5 (the "DKT" of course standing for Davis/Kramer/Tompson, the three remaining members). I'd missed their gig at the annual Pukkelpop festival in 2004, but heard lots of good things, and of course… that legacy. Even though I think that none of their albums is a consistently stunning blast, they always had it, you know. Kick Out the Jams - recorded in 1968! - contains some of the most visceral music of the pre-punk age, Back in the USA is a gruesomely underrated classic that could've been a generally accepted classic in rock if it hadn't been for its flat sound and High Time's best moments were easily on a par with the live album's glorious energy. They had the groove, mixed red-hot rock music with soul, blues and hints of free jazz, had not one, but two Guitar Gods ànd one of the coolest afros in rock (Rob Tyner). While the grunge craze of a decade and a half ago (Jesus, are we really getting' that old?) led a few new generations of kids to check out bands like Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath, the garage craze of the past few years paid more tribute to the blistering and overwhelming energy of the MC5, The Stooges and The New York Dolls - bands that paved the way for punk - by taking the six-stringed revolution from the adolescent garage to the grown-up stages - and (almost) everything it triggered. The Sex Pistols, Black Flag, The Dirtbombs, The Bellrays, The Hellacopters, The White Stripes, …, almost any band that you can think of that played/plays rock 'n' roll with a relentless urgency, has in some or other way been influenced by this triumvirate or their followers. As is usually the case (with everything): they rarely beat the original and that's why these bands' best work still stands erect among the very best in rock 'n' roll history. The indie kids might disagree, but what do they know about energy? Anyway, can you imagine my anticipation? BROTHER WAYNE KRAMER! DENNIS THOMPSON! MICHAEL DAVIS! And a few cool guests! It was such a cool moment when they appeared on stage. I'd already seen photos, but from the 7th row or so, it was obvious that time does leave its traces - Davis almost looked like a sporty Harry Dean Stanton, Thompson looked nothing like the wild animal of 35 years ago and even Kramer - the most youthful of them all - couldn't prevent that his silvery hair suggested they really come from a dinosaur era, so to speak. Aided by Gilby Clarke (Guns n' Roses) on guitar, they didn't fuss about and kicked off the set with "Ramblin' Rose," sung by Kramer, but not in his falsetto (as on Kick Out the Jams and countless bootlegs). His voice was obviously tired from touring, but he still did an admirably job, backed by a band that took no prisoners. The music wasn't nearly as devastating as it must've been 35 years ago, and the volume level should've been turned up a bit, but the fervour was still there and most of all… these guys were having the time of their life! I have rarely seen musicians have that much fun on stage, cracking jokes, gratefully receiving the audience's enthusiasm and - in Kramer's case - dancing around like a kid on his birthday, surrounded by friends and presents. As for the friends: besides Clarke, the trio brought two singers along, the first one to appear being Handsome Dick Manitoba. Even though I initially thought he was an Ali G. look-alike, hired to provide some comic relief, he proved to be an especially nice asset, as his performance (which he, on a side-note, dedicated to yours truly who was wearing a Yankees-cap that shared the same symbol as his necklace) was raw, but appropriate. "You can call me Handsome, you can call me Dick… you can even call me animal" and next the band launched into a frenzied version of said song. Other winners: the wonderful buzz-saw rock of "Sister Anne" (is that classic stuff, or what?), the ecstatic teenage anthem "High School" and, probably one of the best songs they ever came up with, "American Ruse," complete with incendiary solo by Kramer. However, there was yet another sexual dimension to come, when The Bellrays' Lisa Kekaula swayed onto the stage, wearing a tight black dress and white high-heeled boots. And I'm telling you: if there has ever been a performer who looks like she was raised on pure soul and lust, it's that woman. She hollered her way through the bluesy "Motor City Is Burning," Fred Smith's wonderful "Shakin' Street" and the hard rockin' "Looking at You," which featured a fantastic guitar duel (probably the evening's highlight) between Kramer and Clarke. Kramer took care of "Miss X", which slowed down the pace, but then Handsome Dick Manitoba pointed to his watch and everybody immediately knew what time it was and yelled along to that legendary "Kick out the Jams, MOTHERFUCKERS!" The band went three gears higher, there was a mosh-pit and even the most catatonic people in the audience were at least shaking their bums to that raucous call-to-arms. It's a total anachronism these days - a song with a kind of message set to furious guitars and crashing drums that make you wanna keep on rockin' - but it was a beautiful moment (or maybe I'm nostalgic for an era I never experienced), seeing kids and older rockers gleefully partyin' to the music of a few guys rocking their fifty-something asses off. As they've been doing for a while, the band also played a tribute to Ray Charles and ended the set with another classic sung by Kramer, "Rocket Reducer No.62," who guided the audience through the sing-along parts at the end. They returned to do a completely tripped-out encore ("Starship") that wasn't really necessary (it perhaps was something new and stunning in 1968, but it's still an excuse for directionless noodling nowadays), but it couldn't alter the fact that they played one hell of a gig. It wasn't the best gig I ever witnessed, but it was a Jukebox Deluxe - a band enjoying every minute on stage and delivering songs with spirit, soul and fervour, aided by a few well-chosen friends to help them out. I saw Mike Watt deliver a wonderfully sloppy set with the Stooges a few years ago and in its own way, this was as good and a nice indication of what an MC5-gig must've been like more than three decades ago. It felt fucking good.