ACCEPT / SABATON
Scout Bar, Houston, TX
May 7, 2011
Jen and I are pretty devoted metalheads. But there aren’t many bands for
whom we would drive 950 miles in a 36-hour period. Accept and Sabaton are
on that short list. After all, Accept was the first metal band I ever saw
live, way back in 1986, and their ‘Blood of the Nations’ comeback album ranks
among my favorite 2010 releases. As for the Swedes, we’ve been following
Sabaton since their ‘Fist for Fight’ days. One of our happiest metal
memories is traveling to Austria in early 2007 to see them play shows in
Salzburg and Vienna opening for Grave Digger – they were so dumbfounded and
happy that Americans had traveled all that way to see them that they dedicated
“Back in Control” to us in Vienna. So anyway, the circumstances were such
that we felt compelled to hit the open road on a Saturday in early May to
witness the final night of these bands’ U.S. tour at a small club (300 or so
capacity) located in a strip mall area near the NASA Space Center in the
southeastern part of Houston, Texas.
When we arrived at the venue at 5:30 p.m. on a sunny, but not miserably hot,
afternoon, a small hardcore group of devoted fans were already lined up outside
the front doors. For the next 90 minutes, we chatted amiably with the
assembled folks (seemingly all of whom had driven long distances to be there),
including a couple of friendly faces that we know from our many ProgPower
excursions. Also, we heard Sabaton soundchecking through the walls of the
club (they were playing “Rise of Evil,” which sadly didn’t make into tonight’s
set). Finally, we entered the club shortly after 7 p.m., and took up
position right up against the stage on the stage-right side (no railing or
photopit to separate audience from stage). As the night progressed, a
steady stream of patrons entered the Scout Bar, such that the place was damn
near packed by the time the headliners came on. A less happy development
was that the venue became smokier and smokier as the night wore on, thanks to
the absence of a smoking ban and a surfeit of folks lighting up (both legal and
illegal substances, I might add, given the overwhelming odor of marijuana at
times). My burning eyes and stinky clothes say “Booooooooo” to that.
Local opening band Fallacy were a very poor fit for this bill, as they peddled
a brand of modern, downtuned, screamed-vocals metal that was largely met with
apathy by the old and old-school crowd. Only moment of note was when the
singer tried to egg on the crowd between songs to form a vicious circle pit,
which prompted some guy near the front to yell, “Good fuckin’ luck.”
Singer and crowd alike dissolved into laughter on that one, as it was quite
obvious that no moshpits were forthcoming in this audience whose demographics
clearly skewed much older than the teenage mosher paradigm.
At 9:00 p.m., it was time for Sabaton. Last night of the tour hijinx
struck early, as the intro tape of Europe’s “Final Countdown” was replaced with
a warbling horribly offkey version that sounded like it was sung and performed
by drunk roadies (and probably was). Very humorous indeed. But it
was all business when the urban-camo clad sextet stormed the stage to “Ghost
Division,” a time-tested opener that whipped the audience into a frenzy in no
time. Keyboarder Daniel Myhr recognized me immediately in the front row,
and kept waving and saluting in my direction to make sure I knew he knew I was
there. Sabaton’s legions were out in full force, judging by the number of
new Sabaton t-shirts in the crowd, the loud chants of “Sab-a-ton, Sab-a-ton” in
between songs, and the large number of folks who were singing along, banging
their heads and generally going crazy. The Swedes were visibly moved by
the favorable reaction, with the three axemen being all smiles and jocular
frontman Joakim Broden apologizing for being at a loss for words to have such a
great crowd response in a territory the band had never played before.
Newbies “Uprising” and “White Death” slotted into the set nicely, before the
combo of “Cliffs of Gallipoli” (“Gutter Ballet” ripoff notwithstanding, this is
a truly amazing live song) and “Attero Dominatus” cranked up the intensity
level even higher. The lone surprise in the setlist was a wonderful
rendition of “Stalingrad,” which the band had not performed live in some five
years and had not rehearsed for tonight’s show, but which they felt like
playing anyway just to keep things fresh. Evergreen “Primo Victoria”
sounded as brilliant as ever. At this time, Broden noticed a young boy up
against the side of the stage, wearing a patch-covered denim jacket and throwing
the horns at every turn. So he sauntered over to the boy and asked his
age. Eleven, the boy replied. Broden asked if it was his first
heavy metal concert, then laughed heartily when the boy shook his head and gave
him a funny look as if to say, “What kind of a stupid question is that?”
Anyway, Broden handed him his trademark mirrored sunglasses, then said he
couldn’t tell his usual joke about the next song (pointing to his crotch)
because the boy was too young to hear it, before the band tore into “Metal
Machine.” Just like that, Sabaton’s time was up, but as they left the
stage, the band members dismantled Daniel Mullback’s drumkit and handed the
pieces out to the audience (kickdrum and all). Daniel and bassist Par
Sundstrom later told us that they had bought the kit for $300 at the start of
the tour and that they decided it would be more fun (and less expensive) to give
it away than to pack it up and have it shipped back to Sweden. I’ve never
seen a band do that before. Suffice it to say that Sabaton made many new
friends in Houston, Texas on this night. Great show. And I know they
had a great time too, as Par was still raving about the experience when he
e-mailed me several days later. I can’t wait to see Sabaton play a
headlining set in Atlanta this fall.
Setlist: Ghost Division, Uprising, White Death, Cliffs of Gallipoli, Attero Dominatus,
Stalingrad, Primo Victoria, Metal Machine/Metal Crue.
During the set changeover, Jen and I had some business to attend to. We
had signed up for the meet’n’greet with Accept, which for some reason had been
rescheduled from its previous 6 p.m. setting to minutes before Accept were to
take the stage. A couple of kind souls at the front of the stage agreed
to hold my place, as we snaked over to the stage entrance with a dozen or so
other people who had signed up. (It was a far cry from the 100+ who paid
for the meet’n’greet with Gamma Ray in Montreal back in January.)
Eventually, we were ushered in two at a time to meet the band, in a narrow
sparse room adjacent to the stage (I suppose it qualified as the backstage area
in this small club). Only four band members were present. Second
guitarist Herman Frank was missing, as he had sustained serious injuries
(broken ribs and a punctured lung) in a fall on stage the night before in San
Antonio, so they were playing as a four-piece tonight. Guitarist Wolf
Hoffman and bassist Peter Baltes were the most proactive and relaxed in the
meet’n’greet, welcoming everyone as they came inside, stopping for photographs,
chatting with the fans, and basically doing what they could to make it seem
that this was not a major inconvenience for them to do moments before they were
to hit the stage. Jen and I got an awesome photo of us flanked by the two
Accept legends. I gave Peter a good chuckle when I told him the first
concert I ever saw was Accept on the ‘Russian Roulette’ tour, and I talked to
Wolf about a mutual friend (percussionist Eric Sanders) whose solo CD I had
brought to give to Wolf on Eric’s behalf. Both were as friendly and
polite as could be. Drummer Stefan Schwarzmann interacted with no one, as
he ignored the people and sat on the couch warming up with his
drumsticks. Nobody bothered him, and I can’t really blame him for wanting
to go through his pre-show routine. As for singer Mark Tornillo, he stood
at the far end of the room, closest to the stage, and was breathing through
what looked like a wet washcloth. He shook hands and said a brief hello
to everyone who approached him, but was plainly distracted and not really
grooving to the meet’n’greet vibe. Again, I can’t blame him.
When the meet’n’greet ended, we pushed and prodded our way back through the
crowded room, and I retrieved my coveted space up against the stage.
(Thanks to Andy Laudano and his friend for saving it for me.) By 10:15
p.m., the houselights went down, and it was time to experience the live power
and energy of Accept. They really are a fantastic live band.
As always, Wolf is the center of attention, with his guitar heroics perfectly
balanced by his larger-than-life stage moves and his endless array of
entertaining facial expressions. The guy’s a born showman. Over on
stage right, Peter is a tireless ball of energy, rocking out with reckless
abandon from the first note to the last, and shouting out the backing
vocals. Peter Baltes has more energy than many metal bassists half his
age. My favorite visual image of the night was the many times that Wolf
and Peter came together at the front of the stage, jamming and smiling and
looking for all the world that they were having a wonderful time. But the
night wasn’t all candy and nuts for the Germans. Again, Herman Frank was
missing, so they were adjusting the two-guitar arrangements on the fly.
On a number of occasions, I spotted Peter and Wolf exchanging nervous glances
as they tried to stay in step with each other. The holes in the sound
were quite pronounced at times, but I did my best to ignore them and focus on
what was, rather than what was not. (It’s sort of a mantra for life, when
you think about it.) Accept were clearly giving it 100% effort, and they
pulled off the gig amazingly well despite the adverse conditions. For his
part, Mark Tornillo sounded fine and put on a very strong performance.
He’s a man of few words, so while he had a few lines rehearsed about Herman’s
injury, he repeated them mostly verbatim twice at different parts in the set,
mostly informing the audience what had happened, saying that they didn’t want
to cancel, and indicating that they wish Herman the best and hope he’s back
with them soon. No one could or should criticize Accept for handling the
tough conditions the way they did. They were total pros about it, and put
on a great show when everyone would have forgiven them for canceling. My
only criticism of the band is more a criticism of their sound engineer.
The volume was too damn loud. I know, I know: If it’s too loud
you’re too old, but this was painfully loud even with my earplugs. I
can’t imagine how bad it was for the vast majority of spectators who wore no
hearing protection. I wanna be enjoying this music decades from now, and
you can’t enjoy rock’n’roll if you’re deaf!
Aside from the above, there were two particularly noteworthy aspects of the
show. First, from a setlist standpoint, the one tune that came completely
out of left field was the obscure ballad “Amamos la Vida,” off the ‘Objection
Overruled’ album. I hadn’t seen or heard of them performing that song at
any other shows on this tour, yet there it was. Tornillo introduced it by
saying they were about to play shows in Central and South America, and that
this song might add “a little Latin flavor” to the proceedings. I don’t
know about that, but I think we got robbed of “Son of a Bitch” or “Burning” to
hear this ballad. Not the choice I would have made, but hey, the setlist
was completely, 100% awesome (“No Shelter,” “Losers and Winners,” “Aiming
High,” “Monsterman,” “Teutonic Terror” – holy awesomeness Batman) in all other
respects, so I’ll quit my bitching. Second, Sabaton were not about to
allow the last night of the tour to pass without a little mischief.
During “Princess of the Dawn,” all six members of the band shuffled onto the
stage, decked out in pink leotards and tutus, with tiaras and magic wands (get
it, they were portraying the “Princess of the Dawn”). It was one of the
funniest things I’ve ever seen. They stood in front of the drumkit for a
minute, danced and waved their wands, then shuffled back off stage.
Tornillo was laughing so hard he was barely able to finish the
song. And during the final encore, “Balls to the Wall,” probably two
dozen large inflatable beach balls attacked the stage en masse courtesy of
Sabaton, just as Tornillo was singing the line “Build a wall with the bodies of
the dead,” prompting him to ad-lib the next line “And we’ll put them all in
beach balls.” Peter spent the rest of the song trying to clear the stage
by kicking beach ball after beach ball back into the crowd, but of course the
audience kept swatting them right back. It was hilarious. Nice
pranks, Sabaton, even if it did cost them $90 to buy their props.
All in all, this wasn’t the greatest Accept gig I’ve ever seen. It surely
didn’t match the one at ProgPower last September in sheer majestic
brilliance. But it was extremely fun and extremely memorable
nonetheless. I was glad to have been there, and I tip my cap to Accept
for handling difficult circumstances with dignity, professionalism and
grace. My respect for them grew with their efforts tonight. And it
was a killer show, after all.
Setlist: Teutonic Terror, Bucket Full of Hate, Starlight, Breaker, New World Comin’,
Restless and Wild, Amamos La Vida, Monsterman, Metal Heart, Neon Nights,
Bulletproof, Losers and Winners, Aiming High, Princess of the Dawn, Up to the
Limit, No Shelter. Encores: Fast as a Shark, Pandemic, Balls to the Wall.
After the Accept gig, we found our friends Daniel and Par from Sabaton, and
spent the next couple of hours catching up with them about everything that’s
happened in their lives and with Sabaton since we saw them last. It was
fascinating to hear the inside perspective of an independent heavy metal band
on the rise, especially as their fanbase has grown and they’ve experienced
greater success than I think any of them ever imagined. We had much to
discuss, including the band’s imminent shows in Russia with the Scorpions.
(They were flying home to Sweden the day after this show in Houston, having a
day and a half at home, then flying to Russia to begin the Scorpions
tour.) Finally, by 2 a.m. or so, the club was empty, Jen was falling
asleep on her feet, and we were both exhausted since we’d begun our drive to
Houston some 20 hours earlier. So we said our goodnights, hugged our
friends, and went back to the hotel to collapse.
When we checked out of our cushy hotel the next morning, refreshed and showered and
ready for the long drive home, we saw a bus parked in the parking lot across the
street. Sure enough, it was Sabaton’s bus. They had slept on that
bus last night, and Daniel (still wearing the same clothes from the club the
night before, almost surely with no shower in between) was walking by himself
back to the bus. That was our last image of Sabaton on this visit.
Even at this level, it’s an awfully long way to the top if you want to rock’n’roll.
~
Review by Kit Ekman ~
Scout Bar, Houston, TX
May 7, 2011
Jen and I are pretty devoted metalheads. But there aren’t many bands for
whom we would drive 950 miles in a 36-hour period. Accept and Sabaton are
on that short list. After all, Accept was the first metal band I ever saw
live, way back in 1986, and their ‘Blood of the Nations’ comeback album ranks
among my favorite 2010 releases. As for the Swedes, we’ve been following
Sabaton since their ‘Fist for Fight’ days. One of our happiest metal
memories is traveling to Austria in early 2007 to see them play shows in
Salzburg and Vienna opening for Grave Digger – they were so dumbfounded and
happy that Americans had traveled all that way to see them that they dedicated
“Back in Control” to us in Vienna. So anyway, the circumstances were such
that we felt compelled to hit the open road on a Saturday in early May to
witness the final night of these bands’ U.S. tour at a small club (300 or so
capacity) located in a strip mall area near the NASA Space Center in the
southeastern part of Houston, Texas.
When we arrived at the venue at 5:30 p.m. on a sunny, but not miserably hot,
afternoon, a small hardcore group of devoted fans were already lined up outside
the front doors. For the next 90 minutes, we chatted amiably with the
assembled folks (seemingly all of whom had driven long distances to be there),
including a couple of friendly faces that we know from our many ProgPower
excursions. Also, we heard Sabaton soundchecking through the walls of the
club (they were playing “Rise of Evil,” which sadly didn’t make into tonight’s
set). Finally, we entered the club shortly after 7 p.m., and took up
position right up against the stage on the stage-right side (no railing or
photopit to separate audience from stage). As the night progressed, a
steady stream of patrons entered the Scout Bar, such that the place was damn
near packed by the time the headliners came on. A less happy development
was that the venue became smokier and smokier as the night wore on, thanks to
the absence of a smoking ban and a surfeit of folks lighting up (both legal and
illegal substances, I might add, given the overwhelming odor of marijuana at
times). My burning eyes and stinky clothes say “Booooooooo” to that.
Local opening band Fallacy were a very poor fit for this bill, as they peddled
a brand of modern, downtuned, screamed-vocals metal that was largely met with
apathy by the old and old-school crowd. Only moment of note was when the
singer tried to egg on the crowd between songs to form a vicious circle pit,
which prompted some guy near the front to yell, “Good fuckin’ luck.”
Singer and crowd alike dissolved into laughter on that one, as it was quite
obvious that no moshpits were forthcoming in this audience whose demographics
clearly skewed much older than the teenage mosher paradigm.
At 9:00 p.m., it was time for Sabaton. Last night of the tour hijinx
struck early, as the intro tape of Europe’s “Final Countdown” was replaced with
a warbling horribly offkey version that sounded like it was sung and performed
by drunk roadies (and probably was). Very humorous indeed. But it
was all business when the urban-camo clad sextet stormed the stage to “Ghost
Division,” a time-tested opener that whipped the audience into a frenzy in no
time. Keyboarder Daniel Myhr recognized me immediately in the front row,
and kept waving and saluting in my direction to make sure I knew he knew I was
there. Sabaton’s legions were out in full force, judging by the number of
new Sabaton t-shirts in the crowd, the loud chants of “Sab-a-ton, Sab-a-ton” in
between songs, and the large number of folks who were singing along, banging
their heads and generally going crazy. The Swedes were visibly moved by
the favorable reaction, with the three axemen being all smiles and jocular
frontman Joakim Broden apologizing for being at a loss for words to have such a
great crowd response in a territory the band had never played before.
Newbies “Uprising” and “White Death” slotted into the set nicely, before the
combo of “Cliffs of Gallipoli” (“Gutter Ballet” ripoff notwithstanding, this is
a truly amazing live song) and “Attero Dominatus” cranked up the intensity
level even higher. The lone surprise in the setlist was a wonderful
rendition of “Stalingrad,” which the band had not performed live in some five
years and had not rehearsed for tonight’s show, but which they felt like
playing anyway just to keep things fresh. Evergreen “Primo Victoria”
sounded as brilliant as ever. At this time, Broden noticed a young boy up
against the side of the stage, wearing a patch-covered denim jacket and throwing
the horns at every turn. So he sauntered over to the boy and asked his
age. Eleven, the boy replied. Broden asked if it was his first
heavy metal concert, then laughed heartily when the boy shook his head and gave
him a funny look as if to say, “What kind of a stupid question is that?”
Anyway, Broden handed him his trademark mirrored sunglasses, then said he
couldn’t tell his usual joke about the next song (pointing to his crotch)
because the boy was too young to hear it, before the band tore into “Metal
Machine.” Just like that, Sabaton’s time was up, but as they left the
stage, the band members dismantled Daniel Mullback’s drumkit and handed the
pieces out to the audience (kickdrum and all). Daniel and bassist Par
Sundstrom later told us that they had bought the kit for $300 at the start of
the tour and that they decided it would be more fun (and less expensive) to give
it away than to pack it up and have it shipped back to Sweden. I’ve never
seen a band do that before. Suffice it to say that Sabaton made many new
friends in Houston, Texas on this night. Great show. And I know they
had a great time too, as Par was still raving about the experience when he
e-mailed me several days later. I can’t wait to see Sabaton play a
headlining set in Atlanta this fall.
Setlist: Ghost Division, Uprising, White Death, Cliffs of Gallipoli, Attero Dominatus,
Stalingrad, Primo Victoria, Metal Machine/Metal Crue.
During the set changeover, Jen and I had some business to attend to. We
had signed up for the meet’n’greet with Accept, which for some reason had been
rescheduled from its previous 6 p.m. setting to minutes before Accept were to
take the stage. A couple of kind souls at the front of the stage agreed
to hold my place, as we snaked over to the stage entrance with a dozen or so
other people who had signed up. (It was a far cry from the 100+ who paid
for the meet’n’greet with Gamma Ray in Montreal back in January.)
Eventually, we were ushered in two at a time to meet the band, in a narrow
sparse room adjacent to the stage (I suppose it qualified as the backstage area
in this small club). Only four band members were present. Second
guitarist Herman Frank was missing, as he had sustained serious injuries
(broken ribs and a punctured lung) in a fall on stage the night before in San
Antonio, so they were playing as a four-piece tonight. Guitarist Wolf
Hoffman and bassist Peter Baltes were the most proactive and relaxed in the
meet’n’greet, welcoming everyone as they came inside, stopping for photographs,
chatting with the fans, and basically doing what they could to make it seem
that this was not a major inconvenience for them to do moments before they were
to hit the stage. Jen and I got an awesome photo of us flanked by the two
Accept legends. I gave Peter a good chuckle when I told him the first
concert I ever saw was Accept on the ‘Russian Roulette’ tour, and I talked to
Wolf about a mutual friend (percussionist Eric Sanders) whose solo CD I had
brought to give to Wolf on Eric’s behalf. Both were as friendly and
polite as could be. Drummer Stefan Schwarzmann interacted with no one, as
he ignored the people and sat on the couch warming up with his
drumsticks. Nobody bothered him, and I can’t really blame him for wanting
to go through his pre-show routine. As for singer Mark Tornillo, he stood
at the far end of the room, closest to the stage, and was breathing through
what looked like a wet washcloth. He shook hands and said a brief hello
to everyone who approached him, but was plainly distracted and not really
grooving to the meet’n’greet vibe. Again, I can’t blame him.
When the meet’n’greet ended, we pushed and prodded our way back through the
crowded room, and I retrieved my coveted space up against the stage.
(Thanks to Andy Laudano and his friend for saving it for me.) By 10:15
p.m., the houselights went down, and it was time to experience the live power
and energy of Accept. They really are a fantastic live band.
As always, Wolf is the center of attention, with his guitar heroics perfectly
balanced by his larger-than-life stage moves and his endless array of
entertaining facial expressions. The guy’s a born showman. Over on
stage right, Peter is a tireless ball of energy, rocking out with reckless
abandon from the first note to the last, and shouting out the backing
vocals. Peter Baltes has more energy than many metal bassists half his
age. My favorite visual image of the night was the many times that Wolf
and Peter came together at the front of the stage, jamming and smiling and
looking for all the world that they were having a wonderful time. But the
night wasn’t all candy and nuts for the Germans. Again, Herman Frank was
missing, so they were adjusting the two-guitar arrangements on the fly.
On a number of occasions, I spotted Peter and Wolf exchanging nervous glances
as they tried to stay in step with each other. The holes in the sound
were quite pronounced at times, but I did my best to ignore them and focus on
what was, rather than what was not. (It’s sort of a mantra for life, when
you think about it.) Accept were clearly giving it 100% effort, and they
pulled off the gig amazingly well despite the adverse conditions. For his
part, Mark Tornillo sounded fine and put on a very strong performance.
He’s a man of few words, so while he had a few lines rehearsed about Herman’s
injury, he repeated them mostly verbatim twice at different parts in the set,
mostly informing the audience what had happened, saying that they didn’t want
to cancel, and indicating that they wish Herman the best and hope he’s back
with them soon. No one could or should criticize Accept for handling the
tough conditions the way they did. They were total pros about it, and put
on a great show when everyone would have forgiven them for canceling. My
only criticism of the band is more a criticism of their sound engineer.
The volume was too damn loud. I know, I know: If it’s too loud
you’re too old, but this was painfully loud even with my earplugs. I
can’t imagine how bad it was for the vast majority of spectators who wore no
hearing protection. I wanna be enjoying this music decades from now, and
you can’t enjoy rock’n’roll if you’re deaf!
Aside from the above, there were two particularly noteworthy aspects of the
show. First, from a setlist standpoint, the one tune that came completely
out of left field was the obscure ballad “Amamos la Vida,” off the ‘Objection
Overruled’ album. I hadn’t seen or heard of them performing that song at
any other shows on this tour, yet there it was. Tornillo introduced it by
saying they were about to play shows in Central and South America, and that
this song might add “a little Latin flavor” to the proceedings. I don’t
know about that, but I think we got robbed of “Son of a Bitch” or “Burning” to
hear this ballad. Not the choice I would have made, but hey, the setlist
was completely, 100% awesome (“No Shelter,” “Losers and Winners,” “Aiming
High,” “Monsterman,” “Teutonic Terror” – holy awesomeness Batman) in all other
respects, so I’ll quit my bitching. Second, Sabaton were not about to
allow the last night of the tour to pass without a little mischief.
During “Princess of the Dawn,” all six members of the band shuffled onto the
stage, decked out in pink leotards and tutus, with tiaras and magic wands (get
it, they were portraying the “Princess of the Dawn”). It was one of the
funniest things I’ve ever seen. They stood in front of the drumkit for a
minute, danced and waved their wands, then shuffled back off stage.
Tornillo was laughing so hard he was barely able to finish the
song. And during the final encore, “Balls to the Wall,” probably two
dozen large inflatable beach balls attacked the stage en masse courtesy of
Sabaton, just as Tornillo was singing the line “Build a wall with the bodies of
the dead,” prompting him to ad-lib the next line “And we’ll put them all in
beach balls.” Peter spent the rest of the song trying to clear the stage
by kicking beach ball after beach ball back into the crowd, but of course the
audience kept swatting them right back. It was hilarious. Nice
pranks, Sabaton, even if it did cost them $90 to buy their props.
All in all, this wasn’t the greatest Accept gig I’ve ever seen. It surely
didn’t match the one at ProgPower last September in sheer majestic
brilliance. But it was extremely fun and extremely memorable
nonetheless. I was glad to have been there, and I tip my cap to Accept
for handling difficult circumstances with dignity, professionalism and
grace. My respect for them grew with their efforts tonight. And it
was a killer show, after all.
Setlist: Teutonic Terror, Bucket Full of Hate, Starlight, Breaker, New World Comin’,
Restless and Wild, Amamos La Vida, Monsterman, Metal Heart, Neon Nights,
Bulletproof, Losers and Winners, Aiming High, Princess of the Dawn, Up to the
Limit, No Shelter. Encores: Fast as a Shark, Pandemic, Balls to the Wall.
After the Accept gig, we found our friends Daniel and Par from Sabaton, and
spent the next couple of hours catching up with them about everything that’s
happened in their lives and with Sabaton since we saw them last. It was
fascinating to hear the inside perspective of an independent heavy metal band
on the rise, especially as their fanbase has grown and they’ve experienced
greater success than I think any of them ever imagined. We had much to
discuss, including the band’s imminent shows in Russia with the Scorpions.
(They were flying home to Sweden the day after this show in Houston, having a
day and a half at home, then flying to Russia to begin the Scorpions
tour.) Finally, by 2 a.m. or so, the club was empty, Jen was falling
asleep on her feet, and we were both exhausted since we’d begun our drive to
Houston some 20 hours earlier. So we said our goodnights, hugged our
friends, and went back to the hotel to collapse.
When we checked out of our cushy hotel the next morning, refreshed and showered and
ready for the long drive home, we saw a bus parked in the parking lot across the
street. Sure enough, it was Sabaton’s bus. They had slept on that
bus last night, and Daniel (still wearing the same clothes from the club the
night before, almost surely with no shower in between) was walking by himself
back to the bus. That was our last image of Sabaton on this visit.
Even at this level, it’s an awfully long way to the top if you want to rock’n’roll.
~
Review by Kit Ekman ~