Sometimes the stars align for concert greatness. Sometimes the temperature is right for change and electric sparks in all directions. Sometimes those two things combine. Wednesday night at the Vogue Theatre was one of those times.
During the slow burn of the Occupy Earth Revolution, just as it starts to grow white hot embers, Tom Morello tours The Nightwatchman and the concert gods dance in the aisles with pitchforks and fire crackers. And it got us right riled up.
Occupy Vancouver had just started the Saturday before and Morello brought his well read and meaty Rebel Songs from the steps of the gallery to the red velour seats of the Vogue. In attendance there was the 99%, whipped into a frenzy by the smell of possibility and action in the air these days. It is obvious that there is a shift happening now as the well-rounded knowledge of the working class stands up against the formerly apathetic frustration that the conservative suits with their fingers on the button mistakenly deemed their creed. There is no better bandleader for this march to the steps than The Nightwatchman.
As soon as Morello took the stage, the well-intentioned assigned seating of the Vogue gave way to a rush of energetic and eager fans who crammed against the stage to gaze up at the solo performer and his arsenal of 6-strings and words.
For anyone who has battled the devil’s advocates who seek to confound the pure energy this cause has ignited, look no further than the human bullhorn statement Morello got the crowd to second: “a social revolution starts when someone starts it. And the cross border revolution starts tonight”. There you go, people. SOMEONE has to start it. Once it starts, all we need to do is keep it going.
Morello does a fantastic job of doing just that. As the crowd’s intensity grew steadier and steadier and thus became, at times, slightly out of control, he was able to reign even the most rowdy folks in with legitimate on the level banter and the occasional “mic check”. We were in the palm of his hand all night and never once did it feel like a manipulation.
We were treated to earnest and undeniable arguments with songs like the examination of immigration affairs within Dogs of Tijuana, the fearless call to arms of It Begins Tonight, the rolling up of the sleeves for Whatever It Takes (the statement that is also scrawled on his 6-string acoustic), and the song he co-wrote with Ben Harper Save the Hammer for The Man, a song so Johnny Cash-like in its rebellion, it filled the auditorium with the desire to stick its chest out. We were also treated to the always stomping good ‘Ghost of Tom Joad’, a Bruce Springsteen cover that Morello’s band Rage Against the Machine made into a deafening portrait of the still existing dust bowl of the working class. This song NEVER disappoints, especially when performed by Morello and the penman himself:
People who came knowing only of Morello’s signature solos as formidable axe man of Rage Against the Machine were given a flawlessly re-imagined cover of ‘Guerilla Radio’. The gravity of the friendship and partnership between Morello and Rage front man Zack de la Rocha is never more evident than when witnessing the rebirth and respect Morello gives Rage covers at his solo shows.
Before Morello was a rebel writer, he was a guitar maniac; playing the instrument for hours a day as he learned the ins and outs. Guitar nerds in presence were not disappointed here either. Recently Morello said he had loosened up a bit in regards to featuring the electric guitar in The Nightwatchman performances, saying he realized they could add and not subtract from the gravity of the acoustic feel of the material. As such, we were treated to a few great solos as only Morello can deliver. He remains one of the only guitarists from our generation who was able to develop a voice that is new and entirely distinct. He makes that thing speak a language no guitar has ever spoken. It never ceases to amaze. He also paid homage to his black acoustic which he named “Black Spartacus” and sang the song he had written for it entitled “Black Spartacus – Heart Attack Machine”. There are many aspects of that name that could be an extension of Morello himself. I think a lot of the time when people name their instruments; it’s an imagining of who they are on their most powerful days. This is why my vagina is named “Artemis the bewitching scourge”.
Often throughout the sweaty and universally intense show, Morello mentioned the unanimous decision amongst the band that we were the best crowd of the tour so far. I bet he says that to all the girls…but like all the girls, we’re not only gonna buy it but we’re gonna tell our friends he said it and embellish it to include our specific names. Though I will admit, after seeing my share of shows in Vancouver, I can honestly say I have never seen a crowd more captive and game than the one I saw last night. And for good reason: the show was gripping. We were joined together with the artist on stage very legitimately and it felt empowering.
To prevent people from jumping on stage during the show, Morello promised us we would get to join him there eventually; at the end of the encore, we found out (though we already knew on a whole) that we is a man of his word. He asked why if we were “all in this together” was he up there by himself? We scrambled up there like excited kids on Christmas morning. He let sweaty dudes tread horribly close to his magic assortment of pedals and the not only did he not call security (just one roadie to guard the goods) but he actually asked us all to jump around like war-ready primates to the chorus of his new title track World Wide Rebel Songs. And we did. And unlike when most war-ready primates jump around, it didn’t end in cannibalism. We patted him on the back as he left the stage and then we went out into the world feeling like for once, we had been treated with trust and as equals.
In world full of artificial swagger, its captivating to see someone proving his…and not in the name of hookers and blow but for something much more gratifying, addictive, and essentially universal: change.
I’ll leave you with the words of the man himself:
In my hands I hold the proof
That something’s sure to hit you
Pure flesh and bone to rip through
Don’t let ‘em tie you to the stake
Whatever it takes
Flood waters raise the ramparts
I’ll meet you now wherever you are
I’m here until the frontline breaks
Whatever it takes
SCENE IN THE DARK EXCLUSIVE SHOW CONTENT
CHECK OUT OUR PHOTO GALLERY HERE
