ANVIL
Alabama Music Box, Mobile, AL
April 13, 2014
I’ve lived in the Heart of Dixie for more than a decade now. While I’ve
seen dozens of amazing metal shows during that time period, most have been many
hundreds of miles of home. Opportunities to attend gigs in my adopted
hometown are few and far between. In nearly 11 years, the only metal or
quasi-metal/hard rock shows that I’ve seen in Mobile consist of the
following: In Solitude (opening for Down), 3 Inches of Blood, Shadows
Fall (twice), Halestorm (twice), Queensryche (they were acting out Operation
Mindcrime, but Sister Mary caught food poisoning and didn’t perform, so I left
more confused about the plot of O:M than when I arrived), Motley Crue (Vince
Neil had blown out his voice on his book tour and couldn’t sing a note to save
his life), a decent Metallica tribute band called Battery, and two Kiss tribute
acts (one of which featured a fat Paul – how can you be a Kiss tribute band and
have a fat Paul???). That’s it. So imagine my surprise when I
thumbed through the local alternative weekly paper last Friday night and spied
the headline “Legendary metal band Anvil to play at Alabama Music Box.”
The Alabama Music Box is a crappy dump of a bar, but it’s located just 5 miles
from my house, so of course Jen and I canceled our Sunday evening plans and went to the gig.
The published running order showed four local openers, with Anvil to go on at
11:00 p.m. We arrived a bit after 8 p.m., thinking we’d check out the
local acts to see if maybe southern Alabama has some talented metal bands that
I’ve never heard of. Wrong. Not only were they “not my thing” (to
put it charitably), but these bands took forever to set up their gear and then
played forever. The time schedule got shot to hell. The hour grew
later and later, and nobody affiliated with the venue seemed to care. My
only saving grace to carry me through these long, painful hours was (i)
reasonably priced New Belgium Fat Tire on draft, (ii) a relatively quiet
courtyard behind the bar where we could get fresh air and admire the full moon,
and (iii) the chance to have a long, in-depth conversation with Anvil bassist
Sal Italiano, who was sitting around killing time just like we were. We
got along splendidly with Sal right off the bat (he walked up to me and,
without saying a word, took a photo of my Raven shirt and uploaded it to
Facebook to prove that somebody in Mobile, Alabama has good taste in
music). It turns out Sal is none other than “Mayne” of the cult New York
‘80s band Cities, whose ‘Annihilation Absolute’ LP is considered a stone-cold
classic by those of us with good taste in music. So we stood around with
Sal at length and talked about Cities, the touring life, the old days, the new
days, the glories of the Keep It True and Wacken Open Air festivals, and
everything else. Many thanks to Sal for the engaging conversation that
made the time pass quickly and happily.
Inside the venue, things were not so rosy. Attendance was sparse, at best,
consisting of no more than three or four dozen ragtag folks, some of whom looked
like metalheads but most of whom looked like they’d stumbled in and plunked down
the $15 ticket price just for the hell of it because they had nothing better to
do on a Sunday night. Finally, shortly after midnight, the last of the
local openers mercifully concluded, and it was Anvil time. I saw iconic
guitarist/vocalist Lips walk inside and asked him if he’d found a Subway
sandwich shop. (He’d inquired earlier if I knew where one was, and I
directed him to a place about five blocks down the street.) Lips shook his
head no and said it was closed and he’d had to eat “some shitty tacos”
instead. From his demeanor and body language, Lips seemed to be in a foul
mood. I tried to cheer him up by thanking him for coming and saying that
we never get real metal shows here. Without cracking a smile, he looked at
me glumly and said, “I can see why. This is pathetic.” Not sure if
he was referring to the poor organization, the lousy turnout, the dubious local
“talent,” the less-than-stellar venue, or all of the above. I pressed on a
bit more, then realized it was useless: Lips was bummed, and probably
needed to be left alone. So I did. A few minutes later, he and Robbo
and Sal went on the stage and commenced setting up their gear. Lips did a
bit of rudimentary soundchecking and repeatedly expressed frustration that he
was getting no vocals through his stage monitor (which was actually perched on a
road case in front of the stage because the stage was too small to accommodate
the monitors otherwise). As Jen and I were watching all this, we feared
the worst. Again, Lips’ facial expressions and body language projected
nothing but frustration and dejection. We worried that we might be
bearing witness to the saddest Anvil gig ever.
A little before 12:30 a.m., the band cranked up their classic intro “March of
the Crabs.” Lips strapped on his guitar, hopped off the stage and came
down onto the floor with the couple dozen die-hards, and played the whole song
in that position. Within a minute or so, the tension left his face, he
started smiling and rocking out, and the gloomy mood was replaced by one of
sheer exuberance for the duration of the gig. Ahhh, that’s the power of
music for you. For the next 80 minutes or so, we were treated to a
powerful, professional, exhilarating set of Anvil’s wacky brand of metal.
The setlist was split almost evenly between classic ‘80s tracks and material
from the last three albums, with nothing in between being aired. Perhaps
some could bitch that this song should have been included or this other song
shouldn’t have, but it was a really strong set over all, with evergreens like
“School Love” and “Winged Assassins” nestled comfortably alongside newer hammers
like “On Fire” and “Eat Your Words.” Lips did all of his signature stuff,
from yelling into the pickups of his guitar to using a vibrator during his
extended solo in “Mothra,” all the while baring his perpetual impish grin.
Robb Reiner is a sight to behold on the drumkit, a tour de force who plays with
both stylish technique and devastating power. The guy’s really
underestimated in many circles, perhaps because of the straightforward nature of
much of Anvil’s material, but he looked and sounded miles ahead of most metal
drummers to me during, for example, the jazzy “Swing Thing” showpiece. As
for my main man Sal on the Anvil-emblazoned bass guitar, he mostly rocked steady
and belted out backing vocals, holding down a sturdy bottom end with his fingers
picking away. He fit well with the sound and attitude of Anvil, and
definitely understands and fulfills his role, without detracting from the
“stars” of the band, Lipps and Robbo.
It was super-entertaining to hear Lips’ stage raps between songs, too.
Sure, they sounded a bit rehearsed to segue neatly into the next song, but they
were funny and endearing nonetheless. Before “This is Thirteen,” he
chastised Black Sabbath for naming their most recent opus ‘13’ and telling a
hilarious Ozzy vignette in full Brummie accent. Before “Thumb Hang,” Lips
talked about how Ronnie James Dio was his favorite singer and how he’d invited
Lips to breakfast in Italy one morning and told him a funny story about how
Cozy Powell got the Rainbow gig by refusing to kowtow to Richie Blackmore’s
bullshit. Lips also had interesting observations about Mobile, calling it
one of the strangest places they’d ever played because of all the music and art
in the city. “I’m just an old hippie,” he said, “so I fit right
in.” Later on, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he said, “This is the
first time we’ve ever played in Alabama. After tonight, I’ll never be
able to say that again.” Hah. That was the extent of his effusive
praise of Mobile, and it was very funny. But Lips was extremely gracious
to the small number of dedicated fans in attendance, repeatedly saying that we
were awesome and seemingly not holding back one iota from his
performance. We even got an encore tonight, after the traditional rousing
anthem “Metal on Metal” closed out the regular set, as they returned to the
stage to play an upbeat “Running” off the ‘Juggernaut of Justice’ disc.
Not what I would have expected as an encore, but it was cool nonetheless.
After the show, both Sal and Robbo came over to Jen and me to ask how we enjoyed
it. Again, very kind and gracious of them. As for Lips, he was still
all sweat and smiles a few minutes later, so we walked over to him, thanked him
for the gig, and asked if it was okay to take a photo. He obliged, and his
big grin on the resulting image belies what had to be a long, frustrating day
for him and his bandmates. We then went over to the merch table and
dropped $25 on a shirt/CD combo (in part because it was a cool shirt, but in
part because we figured the gas money couldn’t hurt the band). It was damn
near 2:00 a.m. now, and Jen and I had to be at our desks at 8, so we said our
goodnights and drove home. Sometime after 3:30 a.m., I was still wide
awake, lying in bed and replaying the gig in my head. It was a good night in Mobile, Alabama.
Setlist: March of the Crabs, 666, School Love, Bad Ass Rock’n’Roll, Winged Assassins, On
Fire, This is Thirteen, Mothra (with Lips guitar solo), Thumb Hang, Swing Thing
(with Robbo drum solo), Hope In Hell, Eat Your Words, Metal on Metal.
Encore: Running.
~ Review by Kit Ekman ~
Alabama Music Box, Mobile, AL
April 13, 2014
I’ve lived in the Heart of Dixie for more than a decade now. While I’ve
seen dozens of amazing metal shows during that time period, most have been many
hundreds of miles of home. Opportunities to attend gigs in my adopted
hometown are few and far between. In nearly 11 years, the only metal or
quasi-metal/hard rock shows that I’ve seen in Mobile consist of the
following: In Solitude (opening for Down), 3 Inches of Blood, Shadows
Fall (twice), Halestorm (twice), Queensryche (they were acting out Operation
Mindcrime, but Sister Mary caught food poisoning and didn’t perform, so I left
more confused about the plot of O:M than when I arrived), Motley Crue (Vince
Neil had blown out his voice on his book tour and couldn’t sing a note to save
his life), a decent Metallica tribute band called Battery, and two Kiss tribute
acts (one of which featured a fat Paul – how can you be a Kiss tribute band and
have a fat Paul???). That’s it. So imagine my surprise when I
thumbed through the local alternative weekly paper last Friday night and spied
the headline “Legendary metal band Anvil to play at Alabama Music Box.”
The Alabama Music Box is a crappy dump of a bar, but it’s located just 5 miles
from my house, so of course Jen and I canceled our Sunday evening plans and went to the gig.
The published running order showed four local openers, with Anvil to go on at
11:00 p.m. We arrived a bit after 8 p.m., thinking we’d check out the
local acts to see if maybe southern Alabama has some talented metal bands that
I’ve never heard of. Wrong. Not only were they “not my thing” (to
put it charitably), but these bands took forever to set up their gear and then
played forever. The time schedule got shot to hell. The hour grew
later and later, and nobody affiliated with the venue seemed to care. My
only saving grace to carry me through these long, painful hours was (i)
reasonably priced New Belgium Fat Tire on draft, (ii) a relatively quiet
courtyard behind the bar where we could get fresh air and admire the full moon,
and (iii) the chance to have a long, in-depth conversation with Anvil bassist
Sal Italiano, who was sitting around killing time just like we were. We
got along splendidly with Sal right off the bat (he walked up to me and,
without saying a word, took a photo of my Raven shirt and uploaded it to
Facebook to prove that somebody in Mobile, Alabama has good taste in
music). It turns out Sal is none other than “Mayne” of the cult New York
‘80s band Cities, whose ‘Annihilation Absolute’ LP is considered a stone-cold
classic by those of us with good taste in music. So we stood around with
Sal at length and talked about Cities, the touring life, the old days, the new
days, the glories of the Keep It True and Wacken Open Air festivals, and
everything else. Many thanks to Sal for the engaging conversation that
made the time pass quickly and happily.
Inside the venue, things were not so rosy. Attendance was sparse, at best,
consisting of no more than three or four dozen ragtag folks, some of whom looked
like metalheads but most of whom looked like they’d stumbled in and plunked down
the $15 ticket price just for the hell of it because they had nothing better to
do on a Sunday night. Finally, shortly after midnight, the last of the
local openers mercifully concluded, and it was Anvil time. I saw iconic
guitarist/vocalist Lips walk inside and asked him if he’d found a Subway
sandwich shop. (He’d inquired earlier if I knew where one was, and I
directed him to a place about five blocks down the street.) Lips shook his
head no and said it was closed and he’d had to eat “some shitty tacos”
instead. From his demeanor and body language, Lips seemed to be in a foul
mood. I tried to cheer him up by thanking him for coming and saying that
we never get real metal shows here. Without cracking a smile, he looked at
me glumly and said, “I can see why. This is pathetic.” Not sure if
he was referring to the poor organization, the lousy turnout, the dubious local
“talent,” the less-than-stellar venue, or all of the above. I pressed on a
bit more, then realized it was useless: Lips was bummed, and probably
needed to be left alone. So I did. A few minutes later, he and Robbo
and Sal went on the stage and commenced setting up their gear. Lips did a
bit of rudimentary soundchecking and repeatedly expressed frustration that he
was getting no vocals through his stage monitor (which was actually perched on a
road case in front of the stage because the stage was too small to accommodate
the monitors otherwise). As Jen and I were watching all this, we feared
the worst. Again, Lips’ facial expressions and body language projected
nothing but frustration and dejection. We worried that we might be
bearing witness to the saddest Anvil gig ever.
A little before 12:30 a.m., the band cranked up their classic intro “March of
the Crabs.” Lips strapped on his guitar, hopped off the stage and came
down onto the floor with the couple dozen die-hards, and played the whole song
in that position. Within a minute or so, the tension left his face, he
started smiling and rocking out, and the gloomy mood was replaced by one of
sheer exuberance for the duration of the gig. Ahhh, that’s the power of
music for you. For the next 80 minutes or so, we were treated to a
powerful, professional, exhilarating set of Anvil’s wacky brand of metal.
The setlist was split almost evenly between classic ‘80s tracks and material
from the last three albums, with nothing in between being aired. Perhaps
some could bitch that this song should have been included or this other song
shouldn’t have, but it was a really strong set over all, with evergreens like
“School Love” and “Winged Assassins” nestled comfortably alongside newer hammers
like “On Fire” and “Eat Your Words.” Lips did all of his signature stuff,
from yelling into the pickups of his guitar to using a vibrator during his
extended solo in “Mothra,” all the while baring his perpetual impish grin.
Robb Reiner is a sight to behold on the drumkit, a tour de force who plays with
both stylish technique and devastating power. The guy’s really
underestimated in many circles, perhaps because of the straightforward nature of
much of Anvil’s material, but he looked and sounded miles ahead of most metal
drummers to me during, for example, the jazzy “Swing Thing” showpiece. As
for my main man Sal on the Anvil-emblazoned bass guitar, he mostly rocked steady
and belted out backing vocals, holding down a sturdy bottom end with his fingers
picking away. He fit well with the sound and attitude of Anvil, and
definitely understands and fulfills his role, without detracting from the
“stars” of the band, Lipps and Robbo.
It was super-entertaining to hear Lips’ stage raps between songs, too.
Sure, they sounded a bit rehearsed to segue neatly into the next song, but they
were funny and endearing nonetheless. Before “This is Thirteen,” he
chastised Black Sabbath for naming their most recent opus ‘13’ and telling a
hilarious Ozzy vignette in full Brummie accent. Before “Thumb Hang,” Lips
talked about how Ronnie James Dio was his favorite singer and how he’d invited
Lips to breakfast in Italy one morning and told him a funny story about how
Cozy Powell got the Rainbow gig by refusing to kowtow to Richie Blackmore’s
bullshit. Lips also had interesting observations about Mobile, calling it
one of the strangest places they’d ever played because of all the music and art
in the city. “I’m just an old hippie,” he said, “so I fit right
in.” Later on, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he said, “This is the
first time we’ve ever played in Alabama. After tonight, I’ll never be
able to say that again.” Hah. That was the extent of his effusive
praise of Mobile, and it was very funny. But Lips was extremely gracious
to the small number of dedicated fans in attendance, repeatedly saying that we
were awesome and seemingly not holding back one iota from his
performance. We even got an encore tonight, after the traditional rousing
anthem “Metal on Metal” closed out the regular set, as they returned to the
stage to play an upbeat “Running” off the ‘Juggernaut of Justice’ disc.
Not what I would have expected as an encore, but it was cool nonetheless.
After the show, both Sal and Robbo came over to Jen and me to ask how we enjoyed
it. Again, very kind and gracious of them. As for Lips, he was still
all sweat and smiles a few minutes later, so we walked over to him, thanked him
for the gig, and asked if it was okay to take a photo. He obliged, and his
big grin on the resulting image belies what had to be a long, frustrating day
for him and his bandmates. We then went over to the merch table and
dropped $25 on a shirt/CD combo (in part because it was a cool shirt, but in
part because we figured the gas money couldn’t hurt the band). It was damn
near 2:00 a.m. now, and Jen and I had to be at our desks at 8, so we said our
goodnights and drove home. Sometime after 3:30 a.m., I was still wide
awake, lying in bed and replaying the gig in my head. It was a good night in Mobile, Alabama.
Setlist: March of the Crabs, 666, School Love, Bad Ass Rock’n’Roll, Winged Assassins, On
Fire, This is Thirteen, Mothra (with Lips guitar solo), Thumb Hang, Swing Thing
(with Robbo drum solo), Hope In Hell, Eat Your Words, Metal on Metal.
Encore: Running.
~ Review by Kit Ekman ~