(Editors note: This weekend, my buddy Ciaran went to go see Hall & Oates at the Beacon Theatre. I'm dead serious. Offended by the lack of blog coverage (aside from Stereogum) of what he considers "the next big thing," he asked if he could write a review to post up here. I was happy to oblige.)
I Can Go For That, But Only On Certain Terms: Hall & Oates @ The Beacon
By Ciaran Rogers
I’d like to open this with the story of how I was first exposed to the music of Daryl Hall and John Oates. Napster, in all of its various iterations, gave our generation something that no other generation had: full fledged, free access to anything and everything that people listen to. It was a service that provided countless afternoons searching for the most random and ridiculous bands you could think of; for me, one of those was Hall & Oates…
For all those who do not watch Will and Grace, or who weren’t at Jeff’s Super Bowl party, I’ll let you in on a little secret: Hall and Oats are back. Sort of. Or at least they should be.
With the 1980s the retro decade du jour, this should come as no surprise. Yet, Hall and Oats are not really on any radar with respect to their influence as cultural icons or musicians. They embody key iconic themes of the 1980s: big hair, blazers, and synthesizers, but are more associated with Patrick Bateman and the yuppie set then the Punk/ New Wave artists that have helped define today’s themes in music and culture. On the surface, H&O and Punk/ New Wave are opposite camps, locked in a 1980s convention best expressed in the movie “Pretty In Pink.” Punk/ New Wave is Ducky the progenitor of the hipster, and Hall and Oats is Ducky’s “right side of the tracks” super preppy nemesis played by James Spader. But, as the characters played by Molly Ringwald and Andrew Macarthy taught us, judging by the company one keeps is often a vicious fallacy of abstraction. Upon closer inspection, we realize that like many things that seem opposite they are actually quite similar: both are confident in their respective identities and both yearn for the same prize. Most notably though, like H&O and their Punk and New Wave contemporaries, both are quintessential products of their time, and both should get their due respect for their influence on how we view music and culture today.
Last night, I was lucky enough to see Daryl Hall and John Oats perform with their band at the Beacon Theatre. It should go without saying that the performance was spectacular. As pure musicians, they could not be better. Decades of experience have turned the group into a machine as well oiled as John Oates’ Jheri Curl. While a couple of the solos went a little too long, and some of the songs choices were sub-optimal, all in all, the concert was a great success because:
1. They both showed up (though it seemed much to Oates’ chagrin)
2. They played “I Can’t Go For That”
3. They played “Rich Girl”
They opened with one of their biggest hits “Maneater,” which was punctuated by a sax solo that would make any soprano sax player’s knees buckle. They then played a whole bunch of random songs, (some Motown, a few of which I’d heard before), all of which was totally cool. Instead of loosing interest during the time between songs I knew, I really appreciated them because they afforded me the chance to watch the audience, which in many ways was wilder the band. They ended the concert in grand fashion, bringing down the house down with a double encore of “You’ve Lost that Loving Feeling,” “Rich Girl,” and “Your Kiss is on My List.” While I could regale you with tales of their musical genius, those interested can check out my website: www.buytheirgreatesthitsalbum.com
A couple key observations:
It’s Usually Better The First Time Around.
After a number of particularly upbeat songs, the venue went black, and when the lights came up Hall was standing behind one of the largest synthesizers I had ever seen. He said to the crowd, “Some of you might not know this one, but this is one of the new songs I’ve been working on.” He got through maybe five bars before a group of audience member started screaming “Sara Smile, Sara Smile.” Hall realized his mistake, said to the audience, “You know what, you’re right,” and cued the band. It was followed by “I Can’t Go For That,” (sampled by the late Notorious BIG), that featured an enlightening sax solo and a brief refrain of Kool and the Gang’s “Hollywood Swinging.” Disaster averted!
Baby Boomers Abound.
While dancing was most certainly encouraged, there was a collective understanding that jumping up to rock out (and I used term loosely), was more of an exception than a rule. At one point during “She’s Gone,” two large thirty-somethings (probably in the youngest 10% of the room) were slow dancing and making out. Aesthetics aside, it was a beautiful site because you could tell they were truly happy and truly in love. They were kind of couple that met some drunken Saturday night at Dorian’s, got married two years later, and that the first song they danced to at their wedding in Stillbury Connecticut was by Hall and Oates. Their innocent reminiscing quickly turned ugly as numerous people behind them started shouting for them to sit down, literally shouting at them. The Beacon might be 10 blocks from Lincoln Center, but come on!
Hall and Oates have great hair.
I mean Jesus, it’s really spectacular.
Dave Mathews Band is a slippery slope to adult contemporary music. I will admit that I have a weak spot for CD 101.9. Not that I’m going to go back to school to become a medical administrative assistant, or repair elevators for a living, but I’m not above throwing on a little George Benson or Boz Scaggs (also both sampled by Biggie), when the late night dance party is winding down. However, during the aforementioned sax solo of “I Can’t Go for That,” I could not help but feel transported back to drunken nights as a high schooler in the parking lot of Giant’s stadium taking bottle shots of Malibu Rum. My prediction: headlining the Beacon in 2035, Dave Mathews and Kenny G, on their “Together Again Tour”; stay tuned for the review.
Misguided Regression: The best new stuff they played was off of their most recent album, “Our Kind of Soul,” and it was all great Motown covers. So good in fact, that during their version of “I’ll Be There” I felt like I was in a Verizon Wireless commercial. In their mind they are an organic off shoot of Motown, but that has to be too much 1980s fun parlaying itself into delusions of grandeur. To their credit though, they did act as ambassadors of Motown to a generation of rhythm deficient yuppies, they did receive a VH1 Ghetto pass, and they did put out a Live at the Apollo album, but seriously, these guys are about as Motown as a tricked out Honda Civic.
Saturday night, I was transported back in time, back to care free days of high school proms, preppies in porches, and drum machines. Although I’m totally down with all that, I was truly an observer in a room of active participants. Seeing Hall and Oates was an awesome epic experience, and one that I will laugh about every time I find my self dancing to “I Can’t Go For That” in a sea of hipsters on the lower east side, and the next time they are in town, I’ll be in the front row, but it was also a reality check. I love Sister Christian, but when Night Ranger comes around, count me out. I’ll just download the show from off my LimeWire account.
Recent Comments