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Post by webm@ster on Mar 23, 2006 8:42:48 GMT -5
In Toronto on Monday
It's a theme as old as history itself, the brash young warrior challenging the old established leader. Maybe it was for leadership of the tribe, maybe the heavyweight championship of the world, or maybe just the mantle of top of the pops. Whatever, the pairing of Oasis and the Arctic Monkeys Monday night at Toronto's Air Canada Centre was so much more than just a battle of the bands. It was the classic case of youth asserting itself once again against the once dominant elder. Usually, the result is as inevitable as the changing of the seasons. But not always.
Full marks for Oasis here for even taking up the challenge. The Manchester foursome were certainly the British band of the nineties, and that still means enough to have filled the Air Canada Centre to capacity Monday night. But openers the Arctic Monkeys (from Sheffield, England) are poised to become the predominant British band of this decade, if initial buzz is any consideration. When the Monkey's debut album Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not was released in England in February, it became the fastest-selling British debut since Oasis's Definitely Maybe in 1994. The British press, rock and otherwise, is full of such comparisons, likening the two bands often enough (on sheer rock-star attitude as well as mere sales) that a pairing of the two seemed inevitable.
The one fundamental difference between the North American rock scene and the British is based primarily in the comparative geographies. In North America, sounds and scenes are regional. Britain, being an island and a small one at that, has traditionally been extremely insular. This suggests that it is almost impossible for a young band to come along today without carrying its influences on its sleeve. The Arctic Monkeys are no different. Their brash, unpolished attitude and approach suggests the earliest days of the Jam. Their guitar-dominant approach resurrects everyone from the Stone Roses through the Libertines to Franz Ferdinand. Their working-class ethic resurrects (though not necessarily musically) the Clash. Yet for all that, the sound still comes across as something vital and original, if not perhaps somewhat cacophonous.
With just one album to draw from, and only a half-hour opening slot to fill, the set list was predictable. The British hits (When the Sun Goes Down, I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor), both searing rock workouts with a soupçon of dance grooves tossed in (the Franz Ferdinand effect), were highlights. And the band certainly impressed even the most cynical observer. Certainly, we are used to a flavour of the month emanating from the British scene, but this should end up being somewhat more lasting, though interestingly, apart from that generated by a few handfuls of fans, the overall response to the band was somewhat tepid. (The Arctic Monkeys headlined their own sold-out club date at the Phoenix Concert Theatre last night. Robert Everett-Green's take on the band will appear here tomorrow.)
Oasis's record as live band is somewhat akin to that of Van Morrison -- good nights, bad nights, and you can never be really sure of what you're going to get. Monday night's performance, though, was impressive, as if the old champions were consciously rising to the challenge.
This performance was not about distractions, as the band (padded out to six pieces for touring purposes) played its 90-minute, 20-song set on a stage devoid of any of the usual big-star glitz -- no backing video screens, no props, and a few puny lights that could have been borrowed from a suburbanite's Christmas display.
Here, it was all about the music, as the Gallagher brothers, Liam and Noel, took turns leading the band through a set list packed with anthems from the past 12 years of radio dominance. With Liam as often as not performing centre-stage with his hands shoved characteristically into his pockets, anthem after anthem, from Champagne Supernova to Wonderwall to Supersonic to Don't Look Back in Anger, rained down on the audience members -- each one of whom, it seemed, was eager to sing along in a kind of beer-hall reverie.
On this night, at least, the ultimate contest was no contest at all, as the veterans Oasis won this battle by a knockout. The Arctic Monkeys had the hype and the promise, but Oasis had the songs and the polish to deliver them. For now, long live the king(s).
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Post by lyla on Mar 23, 2006 10:40:39 GMT -5
nice little ending there
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