Deep Purple Live, Godzilla coincidences, and the frustrations of seeing live music

Ian Gillan last night in Abbotsford; all photos by me

It's amazing I managed to have a great time at the Deep Purple show in Abbotsford last night. There were so many miscues to the buildup, starting months ago when I got turned down when I offered to do a Deep Purple interview in part because the band wasn't playing Vancouver. Of course, 4/5ths of the audience for last night's show was from somewhere in the GVRD, which I did point out in my reply, but the band's people didn't write back after that.  There were apparently still a few empty seats at the venue, it seemed, but would a Straight feature have helped? 

I would have had no trouble being flattering. Deep Purple is the equal, historically, of Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath -- the three reasonable candidates for the origins of heavy metal, and especially in the Mach II format with Gillan on lead vocals, by far the most fun of them; they're also the most productive, having put out a whopping 24 albums, including new ones every couple of years with at least 4/5ths of the band we saw last night. I'd take any of their last half-dozen albums after the lame-duck late-phase Sabbath stuff (13, I mean), and Gillan's voice is way better than latter-year Ozzy's (which was painful even for him, at times; I still vividly remember Ozzy to apologizing to the crowd, the last time I saw them, for "singing like an asshole"; compare that to Gillan's spectacular singing on "Into the Fire" last night. He even outdoes Plant, methinks...).

Of course, with tunes like "Highway Star" and "Space Truckin'," Deep Purple is also at least arguably the silliest of those three bands. Or should I say the least pretentious? But I personally like my rock and roll playful (it was especially fun to see how much Roger Glover got into "Space Truckin'" last night, singing along off-mic as he trekked about the stage, shades off, grinning).

So to be clear before I return to some gripes, I'm totally delighted to have seen Deep Purple, hold them blameless of the irritations I enumerate, and kinda feel like they deserved an even more packed house than what they got, even if the turnout was not at all terrible...

...but I am not quite done griping about the miscues encountered on the way to the show. For instance, there was the question of the ticket that I bought back in May. I vivdly remember being startled to discover the seat I wanted was (allegedly) "Meet and Greet", according to the Ticketmaster website, when I hovered my mouse cursor over it. I just wanted a good seat, but Meet and Greet would have been a nice bonus: I don't care much about getting selfies taken with bands, and singer Ian Gillan was supposedly not involved in it (which I found out later and would have felt a bit raw about), but an autographed poster and a chance to get a record signed would have been nice. Maybe, I thought, if I forsook the selfie option they would sign more than one? Paid over $400 of my now-spent buyout from VCC for the privilege, which I think is the most I've paid, ever, for any single concert ticket. (And that's not even counting the seat I bought for Erika!). 

Then when I finally get the tickets I am told that I had instead bought the "VIP merch package" with no meet and greet option available. I swear Ticketmaster's website described the seats as Meet and Greet back in May. (Here's a helpful tip: before buying ANY expensive tickets to a show via Ticketmaster, thoroughly investigate what is being offered and what it costs through the band's own official website, so you know exactly what you're getting and what you are not). To be honest, I couldn't care less about VIP merch -- which arrived shortly after I wrote the first draft of this, and included an unsigned poster, some guitar picks in a joint box, a fridge magnet, a tote bag, and a silly branded keychain-hanging thing in the shape of a Deep Purple amp (a "Jack Rack", which would be just great if I actually was the type to hang my keys on the wall; who actually does that?). It's all fun I guess, if not what I wanted to buy. Trying to right what I still think was a wrong, I spent 40 minutes of navigating officious, scripted conversations with Ticketmaster customer service (which required MFA four times and a couple of transfered calls), complaining about being misled, but it did not sway anyone. 

In fact, it turns out the Meet and Greet package would have cost another $200 more (which I was told by someone from the company handling the VIP options, who I also contacted before the show; the Ticketmaster "human bots" were not smart enough or informed enough to go there, to just demonstrate that I had not paid the Meet and Greet rate, which would have shut me up). But that still leaves me feeling like what I was buying was mis-described; it makes the band and the company handling their promotions blameless, but not Ticketmaster... I can't go back to May, didn't save any screenshots, etc, but I swear their website said one thing and I was sold another... grr...

Anyhow, so much for getting a record signed. I was probably going to go with Whoosh!, with apologies to guitarist Simon McBride, who isn't on it; but it's got the best cover of any of their recent albums and also a terrific centrepiece song in "Nothing At All", which is by far my favourite DP song since they started working with Bob Ezrin around 2012. 

None of the stuff from the Steve Morse years is included on the current Deep Purple setlist, which in terms of their last dozen albums only went back to =1; there were two songs off that, "A Bit on the Side" and "Lazy Sod". The almost entirely blank cover for that oddly-titled album would also be ideal for signatures, and you could get the whole band, since Simon is on that one (As you can see, I thought plenty of this when preparing for the Meet and Greet that wasn't). Alas, my favourite song off it is "Portable Door", but it was not on the setlist (see here for that; it's been tweaked from the early dates of the tour to replace "Scrib'lin Gib'rish" with "Perfect Strangers", which is just fine by me. Believe that was the sole 80's Purple material represented?). 

Also, Rob Frith had passed on a cool item pertaining to Jon Lord, an archival audio interview, apparently recorded in Vancouver in the 1960s, sourced from his collection, which I did still try to get to the band via what channels were open to me at the venue. It sure would have been easier to put it into Ian Paice's hand, for instance. (Paice, the drummer, was the only member from last night's show to be in the original, Mach I lineup of the band, alongside the late Lord). 

The hassles persisted even into the drive out there, with Erika realizing she was low on gas en route to Abbotsford, and getting ridiculous directions from Siri to an ESSO fifteen minutes back the way we'd come (when there was a Chevron on the way! Does Siri take payola? One wonders). We ended up late for Jefferson Starship, which I didn't really care about, with their one not-even-original member, but Erika was bummed that they were playing "White Rabbit" while we were still outside the auditorium She likes that song!  

There were two entertaining bits of Jefferson Starship trivia, both linked, weirdly, to Godzilla, who I was just drawing with my nephew Rumi, over on Vancouver Island; Rumi has become quite the Godzilla and King Kong enthusiast, though a) he has not yet seen a full film of either, just clips off my phone and b) he persistently calls King Kong Donkey Kong. I beg Toho not to get litigious:

Godzilla's pose there, by the way, is modeled on an early Youtube favourite that I know as Dramatic Look Gopher; remember him? (Also sometimes called Dramatic Chipmunk, but it's not a chipmunk; in fact it's not a gopher, either, but a prairie dog). 

The first connection to Godzilla involved a Bev Davies story, which, since there was actually one member of the Airplane playing last night, I related to Erika in the car, supplementing the tale, which I didn't quite recall correctly, with a call to Bev, whom I put on speaker. Back in her young-hippie days, Bev had been given acid before a concert by Jefferson Airplane's Jorma Kaukonen and told to sit in a particular place off the side of the stage. But then the Grateful Dead walked past her, taking the stage, and she ended up sneaking over to the side of the stage to watch the band, where she was accosted by a man who had pink and -- what was it, Bev, orange spikes? -- shooting off him, yelling at her to get off the fucking stage; she did, returning to her chair. When her friends in the Airplane came back, Bev related to them what had happened, emphasizing the spiky colours, whereupon they responded with ""Oh, that's Bill Graham." 

Graham was a legendary promoter, also known for his associations with the Grateful Dead, who has featured in a few stories I've had a hand in; if I recall correctly, Eric Bloom, when I asked him about the Godzilla head that rose above the drum riser during the early 1980s Coliseum shows I saw by the Blue Öyster Cult, told me that Graham was behind its construction (I'd have to check my Big Takeover interview to confirm that, which would mean either finding the drive that it's on or finding the issue, which is no easy ask, but I think that's right. I'm going to run with this). 

And this wasn't just ANY Godzilla head: this head turned left and right, had a mouth that opened, and it blew smoke and maybe even spouted a little flame? (Actually maybe not? I do not recall flame, but we are talking about a show from 1982, here). Like I say, there's a Big Takeover feature on the band from the time of The Symbol Remains where Eric Bloom and I talk about it. It is entirely possible I saw the band twice back in the 1980s, coming through town on both the Fire of Unknown Origin and Extraterrestrial Live tours, and they had that Godzilla head with them on both tours, but Bev's is the only picture of it I have ever seen. 

Godzilla vs. Albert Bouchard, August 22nd 1982, by bev davies (the first show Bev and I were at at the same time...? Did I even know who she was back then?). 

I played Rumi the Blue Öyster Cult's "Godzilla" as we drew, by the way. His first time with that song; may it not be his last. 

The second weird coincidence involving Godzilla -- a bit more tenuously -- has to do with David Freiberg's song "Jane", which I think is kinda his big claim-to-fame song in the Jefferson Starship repertoire. Freiberg has definitely been around (I contemplated, when I thought I was meeting and greeting people, maybe even bringing that first Quicksilver Messenger Service album to the show, since he played bass for them early on; it would have been a fun thing to get signed). But his tenure in Jefferson Airplane began after the hits, circa 1970, and he wasn't even on the best-known 80's Starship album, Knee Deep in the Hoopla, we gather (though the band, of course, do play "We Built This City", which I've never really had a taste for, though as with most things from the 1980s, it's gotten less annoying with the passage of time).. On the drive to Abbotsford, I played Erika "Jane" and we both had a deep moment of confusion. Take a minute and click that link and tell me that when the opening riffs start, about 20 seconds in, they're not deeply familiar? We both did a double-take, hearing it: "Wait a sec, I know this song!"  

Then the vocals start, and -- wait, no, we don't know this song! Turns out a certain Canadian artist who I will not name here TOTALLY RIPPED OFF those riffs, which you can hear just about a minute in (I am not naming the artist so you can spend a few minutes listening to "Jane" and torturing yourself: CAN YOU FIGURE OUT WHO STOLE THE RIFF? Once you give up, go here and, like I say, skip the first minute).  

Which brings us back to Godzilla, because that very artist toured with, yep, the Blue Öyster Cult, and I saw him play that very show with the Godzilla head. He would later appear as a guest on their album The Revolution By Night, if memory serves...

But enough digression. Erika and I eventually found our seats (separate, because we'd thought she was going to be on the island this week). We missed "White Rabbit" but caught the tail end of "Jane". 

I was still feeling at least some annoyance at that point, especially since the person sitting next to me was munching on fries and my nose was filled with the stink of his ketchup. But soon enough, even Jefferson Starship had my attention, and I could find things in their set to enjoy. 

While I didn't especially need to hear the band covering "Somebody to Love", I did appreciate the singer, Cathy Richardson, making a couple of anti-Trump comments from the stage, I think by way of introducing their new song "Jet Pack". (Richardson is a singer-songwriter in her own right, by the way). Their music is a throwback to a kind of arena-rock I barely listen to these days, but as long as you approach it for what it was -- basically a boomer cover band with a very tenuous connection to a moment in rock history to which we will never return -- it wasn't at all bad. In fact, all things considered, their set was weirdly brief. 

Which we cannot say about Kansas. Their set lasted over an hour and their fans were very vocal and appreciative, even though as with Jefferson Starship, the connection between what we saw last night and the original band is somewhat tenuous (I think keyboardist/ lead vocalist Ronnie Platt is the longest-serving member on the stage last night, and his tenure with the band only goes back to 2014). The most impressive players were Scott Bernard (who has also played with Kenny Loggins and Michael McDonald) and fiddler Joe Deninzon, who I'd actually probably pay to see if he played here with Stratospheerius (there doing a King Crimson cover). 

The progginess of Kansas, despite being pretty hard to detect on their hits, was very evident last night, and they had a few songs that were ambitiously-structured enough that they actually kinda held my attention, like "Portrait (He Knew)" and "Song for America". But Platt's persona (to say nothing of his pants) is on the offputtingly cheesy side, and (even though the latter song ends up actually critical of the American project, with talk of "rape and plunder" of the land), he seemed kind of tone deaf in proudly announcing the song title. Former Zamboni Drivers bandmember and journalist, Eric Von Schlippen, in attendance, griped at the daftness of booming that title in the current climate, as well as Platt's boastfully describing it as the most complicated song they play, like that's something to announce. But Eric is crankier than I am, less of a pluralist, and less inclined to be politic in his reviews of things. 

I will merely say that though Kansas were not my cuppa (and "Dust in the Wind" really isn't made for arenas), they were not horrible to sit through, and the proggy passages and solos were pretty consistently welcome and enjoyable. . 

It finally came to pass that we weren't in Kansas anymore, and (with ample video support, including an introductory clip that took us through visuals referencing all their album covers, set to Holst), Deep Purple took the stage. Granted, it was my first and will surely be my only time seeing them, but for a band that has been around SINCE I WAS FUCKING BORN, back in 1968, I thought they were utterly great. 

I mean, ideally you want to take a time machine back to 1973 (when Erika was born) and see them then, but mine is in the shop, you know?

I wish I had recorded more of Ian Gillan's between-song raps. When he gets going, it turns out he has the capacity to be every bit as weird in his spontaneous storytelling as Robyn Hitchcock. At one point, if I've got this right, he had himself and his pet puma being devoured by piranha in the Fraser River. What? Which got conflated with some actual factual stuff, as Gillan told us how he had actually visited the Vancouver Police Museum earlier in the day, seeing the ping pong ball of stripper Mitzi Dupree, who was the subject of a song on Deep Purple's The House of Blue Light (not included in the concert). 

I knew none of this but kinda absolutely adore that Gillan's main interest in visiting Vancouver was checking out Mitzi's formerly envaginated ping pong ball. He's a funny fella. (And as I mentioned before, "Mary Long" trumps both Pink Floyd and the Adicts for being the funniest thing I've ever heard written about Mary Whitehouse. Another song they did not play, however!). 

What else? Simon McBride and Don Airey both performed spectacular solos, with Airey ending the second with a glass of red wine (and I think he threw in a riff on "O Canada" in there somewhere, between "Diablo" and "Perfect Strangers"). On the other hand, Ian Paice did not offer a drum solo (there was a second during "Space Truckin'" where you thought he might take off like he does on Made in Japan, but it's probably for the best that he didn't -- I'm sure it would have been great, but even great drum solos almost always are something you wait through, you know? I remember feeling that way watching Neal Peart himself. As my late friend Thomas Ziorjen used to observe, "I hate drum solos for the same reasons I hate car chases in movies." Or maybe he said that the other way around?). 

I also really enjoyed "When a Blind Man Cries", which seems the deepest of the Deep Purple deep dives that they played. I heard someone in the audience observing that it must be from the Coverdale era of the band, presumably because he'd never heard it before and thought they knew all the Mach II output, but in fact it's a Machine Head outtake. (I don't think any Coverdale stuff got covered); Gillan has said of the song, "If you think of the phrase 'if a blind man cries' then it's pretty sad, those who are disadvantaged tend to be less complaining than those who are able-bodied." (Which, as someone with a mild disability, I can say is true; having had half my tongue removed due to cancer gave me a lot of perspective on life, and note that if you think my complaining about my Ticketmaster experience is excessive, above, note that I used to be far worse!). 

And like I say, anyone dubious about how well an 81 year old rocker can sing should have been there for "Into the Fire." This clip is from a few years ago in Wacken, with Steve Morse on guitar, but no one seems to have uploaded that song from last night, and Gillan's delivery was every bit as impressive as you see there.

So there: multiple hurdles got placed in my way, but last night was the best $411 I ever spent on a concert. I may give up big-ticket shows from here on in, but in the end, against the odds, I came out of the Forum with absolutely zero regrets. 

Except that I don't own this shirt (which was very much NOT on the merch table, which also had no vinyl; I managed to emerge unmerched). 

...and that's all I have to say about that, but I did snap a couple of other good photos, so here: