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Live Review
by SashaS
10-6-2002
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| The R'n'R Icon, Chuck Berry! |
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Live: Chuck Berry
SBE, London
Sunday, June 9, 2002
Chuck Berry is the father of Rock’n’Roll who can still seriously cut it
Sunday, for once, was a great night for a choice of brilliant shows or, if you were a music lover, you had to cuss the bastard promoters for cramming too many great gigs in one day – New Order (rain in Finsbury Park), Brian Wilson (playing tonight as well), Santana (Crystal Palace) and Chuck Berry. Well, if someone is 75-year-old, who do you think gets a preferential (senior) treatment?
Let’s see: there was a time when Rock’n’Roll had no name and it was often referred to as ‘race music’. The time was early 1950s and it took whites to adopt it to become the teenager’s rebellion music. At the dawn of rock-to-be a legend was emerging in the shape of Chuck Berry, creating songs that would become the foundation of the genre.
The songs are still here – as huge as Grand Canyon – moving and shaking and delighting everyone. From the opening ‘Roll Over Beethoven’ (The Beatles used to love performing it), it was no mistaking who is still the King of Rock, albeit – on a cultish level. While Elvis is adored as a ‘living’ demi-God, Berry’s somewhat been pushed on the sidelines of history.
General public – i.e. anyone born after the Punk era – have no clue that one of the ‘Original fathers’ is still around and kicking the daylight of the form. No surprise that 90 per cent of the audience remember how to lace up creepers, wear that Teddy-boys gear with pride, in spite of enlarged waistlines, thinning and grey hair and a bit too stiff to ‘jive’, baby… Thus, the finale saw younger, female-only, members failed to dance onstage, apart a Marilyn look-alike…
The first part of the show simply was low on atmosphere due to the lack of the fans’ gig-going practice. It did take ‘Sweet Little Sixteen’ (charted in April 1958) to get everyone singing-along although the pandemonium ensued when ‘Rock’n’Roll Music’ riffage vibrated the air: no need for Chukster to sing any further, just play that geetar. Berry is still lean and mean, rocking with a pick-up band that is good for once, but there is a distinct lack of décor and showtime – unless one counts a shocking-blue shirt that sparkled like a mirror-ball and his regulation ‘captain’s cap’ – bar few ‘duck-walks’.
Well, it has become more of ‘duck-steps’ due to his advanced age. He, alike James Brown, can’t do the trademark moves anymore but that’s only a part of what made them what they are – the Hall of Famers. One hour, with no encores, is all we get but it was as energy-filled as if Red Bull vapours were inhaled!
Long live Chuck, long live Rock’n’Roll…
SashaS
10-6-2002
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