Def Leppard + Mötley Crüe + Steel Panther
Glasgow SECC, 9th December 2011
As David St Hubbins once noted, it's such a fine line between stupid and clever. LA's Steel Panther strut confidently along that line like the cocksure, cock rock glam metal superstars they purport to be. With gems like 'Asian Hooker', 'Gold Digging Whore' and ' 17 Girls in a Row', you can tell straight away that they don't take themselves too seriously – and that's before you see the spandex, glittery headbands and truly terrible wigs. Yup, Steel Panther are a spoof band, their bold barnets, filthy lyrics and OTT CC Deville-style geetar lixx mercilessly sending up the over-sexed arrogance of '80s hair metal.
That's not to say they can't play or write good songs. 'Community Property' is a splendid pastiche of the soft rock superballad, complete with lighters-aloft anthemic chorus and the obligatory key change, while 'Death To All But Metal' could've been written by Manowar – if Manowar had a sense of humour.
The posing and posturing are spot on and the banter between tracks is (x-rated but) very, very funny, making Steel Panther one of the most entertaining new(ish) bands I've seen in a while.
But who needs faux rock gods when you've got the real thing about to tear up the stage?
During the '80s, the odds on Vince Neil, Nikki Sixx, Mick Mars and Tommy Lee surviving to celebrate thirty years of Mötley Crüe seemed impossibly long. Yet, miraculously, while less hardy souls have fallen by the wayside, the irrepressible Crüe rock on.
Last time I saw them, they were a little disappointing. Not so tonight. From the moment they burst onto the stage in an explosive blaze of pyro, ripping up 'Wildside', 'Saints of Los Angeles' and 'Live Wire', they have the audience eating from their sweaty palms.
I can't pinpoint the exact moment when the gig makes the transition from great to f**king awesome. Maybe it's when we're all bellowing 'Same Ol' Situation' while Vince conducts. Or when a glitterball piano is hauled onto the stage for a joyous, arms-in-the-air rendition of 'Home Sweet Home'. Or the moment Tommy Lee's rollercoaster drumkit starts chugging round its circular track, in what has to be either the most brilliant or the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen on stage. Scream if you wanna go faster? Not so much...
Sure, Vince can still only sing one in every three notes, poor Mick Mars looks as if he died five years ago and was dug up specially for the night, and Nikki's idea of crowd interaction is to spit blood all over us from a plastic tube – but what the hell. Bowing out with the killer trio of 'Girls, Girls, Girls', 'Smokin' in the Boys Room' and 'Kickstart My Heart' to universal adulation, they're Crüe, they rock like no-one else and I bloody love them.
After that storming performance, Def Leppard can only be a bit of a let down. While Crüe epitomise raw, rowdy rock rebellion, the Leps' stadium-slick professionalism seems a little sterile. Things get off to a promising start with 'Undefeated' and 'Rocket' but why still include the terminal embarrassment that is 'Make Love Like A Man'? (We used to joke that surely as a Yorkshireman Eliot should have called the song 'F**k Like a Bastard', but I expect Steel Panther have bagged that title now...)
Things flag further after Joe Eliot embarks on a petty five minute tirade at someone who threw beer over him, before cranking out not one but two acoustic tracks, 'Two Steps Behind' and 'Bringin' on the Heartache'. Fortunately the set picks up again with 'Animal', 'Armageddon It', 'Photograph', 'Pour Some Sugar On Me' (my favourite) and an encore of 'Let's Get Rocked'.
Yeah, Def Leppard are a great solid rock band and I enjoyed the set well enough, but tonight definitely belonged to the Crüe. F**k yes...
Mötley Crüe, 14th June 2005
