Easiest Website Builder ever! · Build your own toolbar · Free Talking Character · Email Marketing
powered by
bravenet.com
|
|
San Jose Mercury News
DURAN DURAN STRUTTED MEMORIES POLISHED PAST HITS ON ULTRA CHROME
TOUR
Published: Monday, December 8, 1997
BY CANDACE MURPHY, Mercury News Pop Music Writer
THE problem with Duran Duran is that you desperately want them to be larger than life.
In concert, you want the quintessential MTV band to surpass the defining video, ''The Reflex.'' In person, you want the
fun-loving Brits who boarded a yacht in the waters somewhere around Rio. The problem with Duran Duran is that it is the
'90s.
Simon Le Bon is a year shy of 40. The three Taylors -- Roger, John and Andy, no relation -- have long since left the band.
And achieving the dizzying heights the group reached in its heyday, when it ruled the New Romantic movement of the
mid-'80s, is a tall order when playing a less-than-packed San Jose State Event Center, as Duran Duran did Friday evening.
In Duran Duran's so-called Ultra Chrome, Latex and Steel Tour, the incredibly fit Le Bon strutted on stage in a manner
befitting one who was once named the second-most eligible man in Britain (behind Prince Andrew). Nick Rhodes tinkled the
plastics of his synthesizers with typical dispassion.Warren Cuccurullo, formerly of Missing Persons and who's been with the
Birmingham band since 1986, strummed the guitar as adequately as Andy ever did.
They all managed to capture the magic at times, reminding the crowd that the world once considered them the princes of
pop. But sustaining the wizardry over a 75-minute set was another matter altogether. Backed by a creative light show that at
times threatened to usurp the figurative spotlight, Duran Duran played seven songs from its new album, ''Medazzaland,''
teasing the crowd with the title cut and ''Big Bang Generation'' before dusting off the 1983 hit ''Hungry Like the Wolf.'' The
trademark opening cackle of ''Hungry'' -- recorded, as were some backup vocals elsewhere in the show -- caused the
audience of mid-20ish, early 30ish Durannies to shriek and lapse unconsciously into a style of dancing you now only see in
reruns of ''American Bandstand.''
But even though ''Who Do You Think You Are,'' a techno-style ballad off the new album, caused the crowd to whip out its
lighters (penlights in some cases), and ''Electric Barbarella'' had its share of lip-syncers, the Event Center audience was
unabashedly in the mood to hear Duran Duran's old stuff. The rule of the night was: If it's an oldie, stand and shimmy. If not,
sit, watch patiently and wait for the next opportunity to stand and shimmy.
To his credit, Le Bon, dressed in a shiny lavender shirt and skin-tight black pants, wasn't fazed by the non-standing,
non-shimmying moments. He waved his arms in the air, dramatically dragged his hands through his hair, and once,
inexplicably, licked the fingers of his right hand. It was undeniably an entertaining way to pass the time as you waited to hear
some faithful replications of the band's older numbers.
''View to a Kill,'' sounded just as it did when you saw the James Bond movie of the same name way back in the spring of
1985. ''Friends of Mine,'' ''Careless Memories'' and ''Girls on Film,'' all from the band's eponymous debut in 1981, didn't
miss a beat. True fans could ape each and every word to ''Secret Oktober,'' the B-side to 1983's ''Union of the Snake,''
which was played as the first of three encore songs.
But the handful of performance peaks pointed out the valleys. Though Duran Duran's new music -- they played '90s hits
''Come Undone'' and ''Ordinary World'' -- is not wildly different from its old, the group has created a peculiar atmosphere in
which you need to be familiar with its tunes to enjoy them fully. At the end of the show, Le Bon pleaded with the crowd to
''Come see us in Sacramento! You do that and you'll have the time of your life!'' Though you wanted to believe it, you knew
in your heart it wasn't true.
Click here
to go back to the articles page.
Click here
to back to the front page.
bravenet.com