Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, April 17, 1993 TAG: 9304170356
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: B10 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MARK MORRISON STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
CONCERT WAS A HARD-ROCK LOVEFEST
Axl Rose must have been in a forgiving mood.During his band's opening wrath Thursday night (early Friday morning, actually) at the Roanoke Civic Center, Rose angrily threw down his microphone during the first song, stopped the music and issued a stern, profanity-laced warning about throwing stuff on stage.
Do it and the show is over. "It's that simple," he said.
His tone and his reputation suggested that the lead singer for Guns N' Roses meant it, too. Rose has walked off more than one stage because of flying objects.
Rose has ended concerts for much less legitimate reasons.
The band then launched into a sizzling "Welcome to the Jungle," and the show went without incident nearly to its end before guitarist Gilby Clarke left the stage holding his face during "You Could Be Mine."
Clarke was tended to backstage by rescue squad workers while his fellow guitarist, Slash, filled the gap with an extended, one-man guitar solo. Rose disappeared to another backstage area.
No one was quite sure what had happened, and at this point, things could have gone either way. But Clarke bounced back and rejoined Slash to finish off the last three songs. Rose, apparently satisfied that Clarke's injury wasn't caused by the audience, let it all pass without comment.
That was good.
Who knows how the overheated, sold-out audience of 11,000 would have responded had Rose ended the show right then. Once before, in St. Louis, his early departure led to an arena riot.
Already, Rose had kept the crowd waiting more than two hours after the opening band, Blind Melon, completed its set. Rose didn't arrive at the civic center until shortly before midnight and then went directly on stage.
The long delay was predicted. Rose is notorious for them.
Still, it wasn't cool no matter what he might think.
Literally, it wasn't cool. Long before Rose arrived via air-conditioned stretch limousine, the civic center had become a steam bath. It was hot and sticky and clouded by a choking haze of cigarette smoke.
It was especially hard on the people packed against the stage front barricades. More than a dozen fans suffering from heat exhaustion had to be helped or carried from the section by security personnel and rescue workers.
Rose apologized for his lateness. "I've had a f----- up night," he said.
There didn't seem to be much remorse there, though.
To its credit, the audience hung in there through the long wait, although not without the occasional booing. Rose incited a lot of grumbling. The rumor going around was that he didn't even get out of bed until 9:30 p.m.
Guns N' Roses should have opened the two-hour set with its song, "Patience." (It did play the song later). Instead, Rose and company - maybe the hottest ticket in rock music right now - finally opened with "Welcome to the Jungle."
Perhaps that was a more appropriate teaser after all.
For this was a true rock concert with all the trappings. The sweaty, general-admission free-for-all. Strobe lights. Tattoos. The obligatory drum solo. A sea of black clothes, bandannas, baseball caps and teased hair. It was as if every stand-in ever to appear in a music video suddenly came to Roanoke.
Nothing was subtle.
The city was even there to monitor decibel levels. Guns N' Roses averaged 102, which is slightly more than the decibels produced by a chainsaw and loud enough to cause hearing loss if exposed to it over prolonged periods of time.
Roanoke doesn't get them like this very often.
The sobering wait was soon forgotten - if not entirely forgiven - once the Gunners got into high gear with "Jungle," followed by blistering versions of "Mr. Brownstone," Paul McCartney's "Live and Let Die," "Reckless Life," "Attitude," "Nighttrain" and "Double Talkin' Jive." On these, the group put out some powerful sound.
Lead guitarist Slash was the portrait of hard rock with his mangy appearance, low-slung Gibson electric guitar and heroics to match. A question, though: How does Slash manage to smoke cigarettes without catching his hair on fire?
Dressed in shorts, a white T-shirt, red bandanna and black combat boots, Rose stayed in almost nonstop motion as he sprinted around the stage singing and howling and abusing his vocal cords. If he did sleep until 9:30, it is no wonder, given the amount of energy he unleashed.
A lengthy acoustic foray followed, with Rose singing from a sofa with his band mates gathered around. It was like sitting around the old homeplace. They even had a pizza brought in.
Here, the band worked through "Used to Love Her," "Patience," Bob Dylan's "Knockin' On Heaven's Door" and "November Rain," featuring Rose on piano, Slash showing some limber guitar picking and drummer Matt Sorum hitting the kettle drums.
Afterwards, Slash did a hand stand.
Then the group turned the amplifiers back up to 11 and closed with the scorchers, "Sweet Child O' Mine" and "Paradise City," finishing up for the night just before 2 a.m.
Lastly, Rose ignored his own earlier warning and hurtled his cordless microphone the length of the arena. It landed with a loud and resounding thud, but apparently not on anyone's head.
The opening band was Blind Melon, a revved-up grunge outfit out of Los Angeles. Led by barefooted lead singer Shannon Hoon, the five-member band whipped through a 45-minute set of music that swung easily between soft and melodic lulls before the storm and musical rage.
Generally, the group held its own as much as any band can opening for the mega-hyped Guns N' Roses. But the Melons didn't quite excite the crowd enough to inspire an encore.
The people evidently were too anxious to wait for Axl.