From: metlay@netcom.com (metlay)
Subject: REVIEW: Tangerine Dream at the Palace, Columbus OH 14 Oct 92
Summary: In a word, worthless. You can skip the rest of the article now.
Organization: Atomic City
Date: Thu, 15 Oct 1992 22:42:34 GMT


Well, I did a friend a favor and took a free ticket off his hands to 
go see TD at the Palace last night, which meant 7 hours in the car
to see a 2-1/2-hour show. But what the hell, it was a mitzvah; without
me to talk to, he wouldv'e fallen asleep at the wheel and killed himself,
considering how well-primed he was for slumber by the TD concert itself.

If they come anywhere near you, I suggest saving your money and staying
home with your TD album collection, or going to a rave and at least 
getting some exercise. Do NOT go to see TD on this tour unless you're
easily amused, tripped out of your skull and need a good light show to
set you off, or are in desperate need of a good night's sleep.

Tangerine Dream were NOT sloppy, amateurish, or inept in their performance
last night. They were slick, professional, spot-on, and absolutely all-around
perfect in their execution.

BLEAH! THPHHHHHBTTTTTTT!

I was originally planning to rant and scream about how utterly soulless and
Godawful boring this concert was to listen to and sit through for several
pages. Really, I was. But then it occurred to me that there are deeper things
implicit in my gut reaction, that deserve a more measured response. Which 
will be forthcoming in a later post, I assure you. So for now, let me cut to
the chase and give y'all the gory details (I refer readers to Eirikur's
post on the Boston TD concert for trivia like how many modules and keyboards
they had, although I will answer specific queries via Email if desired).

The machines were perfect, as of course they had to be. As for the people:

Jerome Froese is a reasonably capable keyboardist and a very sloppy wangbar
mauler when it comes to guitar. But at least he gave a shit about what he
was playing, and provided five minutes of enjoyment in an otherwise lousy
show. I hope he takes over the band someday and gives it a new lease on life.

Edgar Froese gave the impression, even during his obligatory guitar solo
in the encore, of really wanting to be watching TV instead. How can a guitar
scream and yawn at the same time? Amazing.

Zlatko Perica is a technically superb, utterly bland guitarist with excellent
chops and no feeling whatever. His flinging-back-of-hair and grimaces of
ecstasy were laughed at by the audience, and his soloes wre meaningless
flurries of sixtyfourth notes, no better than what the Ataris were doing.

Linda Spa is a half-decent sax player who puts no heart into anything she
plays, who was drowned in fake reverb as she staggered through four or five
clearly-delineated solo spaces in the music. As pointless as Perica.

(I could comment on my belief that she was indeed hired for jiggle value,
and cite circumstantial evidence to support my case, but why bother?)

The light show was exquisite, the sequences were seamless, and everything
flowed together into a coherent, perfect whole. Less than 24 hours later,
I can't remember a single note they played. Grim. Utterly grim.

Metlay sez "Save your money." 

-- 
metlay            | "By pressing down a special key
atomic city       |  It bollixes the MTP"
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