Poison, Cinderella, Winger, Faster Pussycat at the Molson Amphitheatre , June 28. Tickets $10.70-$49.50. Attendance: 7,000. Rating: NNN Rating: NNNNN
An alien happening upon Molson Amphitheatre Friday night might have mistaken it for a high-risk government security zone where mullets and rocker wear were code red for terrorist attire. Watching some poor frustrated girl unscrew all the studs out of her leather jacket, the ET might also assume that small metal objects could contain tiny explosives powerful enough to take out anyone within 50 feet.
Alien’s log: “We are now entering the compound. Ooh, hey! A burly woman is running her hands all over my body. That’s just my radio contact device. What do you mean, I have to check it?”
Winger guitarist Reb Beach’s hilarious sex faces during his major Eddie-Van-Halen-Eruption-style solo might have been hard to beat (alien’s log: “Continue to suspect guitar is extension of Earth man’s penis”), but Cinderella were easily the highlight of the hair rock extravaganza.
Switching guitars more often than Senator Amidala changes outfits, now all fashionably glammed-up frontman Tom Keifer’s high-pitched wailing still carries well, evoking waves of nostalgia with his old-school rock riffs and metal affectation.
Sure, the enjoyment factor can be attributed to heavy doses of cheese, but there’s something fabulous about a sea of rockers clapping above their heads to tunes like Shelter Me.
When Keifer shouts, “Rock and fuckin’ roll!” you want to do exactly that as the drunk dude beside you makes you clink plastic beer cups with him for the 107th time.
When headliners Poison emerged, the spectacle degenerated into some kind of motivational seminar for rock-‘n’ roll excess, complete with pyrotechnics and solo fanfare galore, while Bret Michaels, like a hair rock Anthony Robbins, demanded, “Do you want some action?! Come on! Everybody wants action! I want some action!”
It was fun to hear Talk Dirty To Me and Unskinny Bop, but by this time we were not that interested.
Alien’s log: “The speaker repeatedly incites the compound to “rock and roll.’ As this battle cry is becoming tiresome, we would like to ship out at this time. Oh, wait. I have to go get my radio contact device back from security.”
