So I’d like to take you on a trip down memory lane…
Do you remember, back in the day, when metal was hard & raucous? Before it was sullied by pop-influences, power-ballads & nü-metal. When 3 guys could stand on stage, scream ferociously into the mike while engaging in fast guitar- & bass-wizardry, backed only by a drummer who you swear, will pound a hole into his kit at any second? Ahh, those were the days, my friend, and that was Foster Kare
Sadly, not all memories are so good. Let’s take a sideways step. Still back in the day, but remember when Gowan & Glass Tiger ruled the radio? When the boys were pretty & the pop was shitty? This, my fellow travellers, was the magic of The Cassanova Playboys, who were far too sexy for their shirts, who brought a gaggle of hotties for fans, and who will likely one day feature prominently on pop radio, much to the horror of us all.
We’ve spent time coursing backwards through the 80’s: the good & the bad, but remember – there was rock before the 80’s. In the 70’s, rock was over-the-top, orchestral, grandiose, all those lovely things. And thus we see the influences of The Rub, a 5 piece that harkens back to the glory days of Fleetwood Mac and their ilk. Featuring a flautist amongst the mix, they played sweet, melancholy songs that never quite lifted off the ground. They’d perhaps be more comfortable with a full orchestra backing them, or at least an over-wrought stage-show at a stadium to play in (I jest). They were certainly virtuoso musicians each, and mirroring the various solos on the flute was a daring move, but I think they need to find their Robert Hunter, to create better songs for their talents.
I’m hopeful that Foster Kare carried the night. I certainly can’t imagine either of the other two acts did, particularly given the character of those judging last night, but, I’ve been surprised before, and will likely be again. But now SHiNDiG 2004’s opening round is done, and next week, the semi-finals begin. If you’ve not been out yet, start now, because the chaffe has fallen by the wayside, and it’s time to see which of the remaining wheat is, umm, umm, the wheatiest?