HOUSE OF BLUES CONCERT: Group puts new spin on old
hits
Me First and the Gimme Gimmes perform punk covers
By DOUG ELFMAN
REVIEW-JOURNAL
You don't have time to listen to the classic songs
of yesteryear anymore. So step right up and experience Carly Simon's
1970s ballad of lovemaking, "Nobody Does It Better," as a
two-minute punk song, no longer as Simon meant it to be -- as a sumptuous
song that originally lasted forever, like, four minutes.
And check out R. Kelly's "I Believe I Can Fly,"
not in its original form as an R&B inspirational, but as a rapid-fire
punk cover that uses sheer quickness to sap the song of its self-improvement
earnestness.
That's right, just in time to satisfy today's attention-deficit,
American-on-the-go, these hits and others have been shrunk down to snack-sized
nuggets by your new best friend: the punk supergroup Me First and the
Gimme Gimmes. Although you probably missed hearing them on Saturday
night at the House of Blues, since only 2,100 fans could cram in there.
The socially healing power of Me First and the Gimme
Gimmes is that it crosses generations in enjoyable ways. People who
remember Led Zeppelin's classic-rock extravaganza, "Stairway to
Heaven," might have been pleased to hear it made anew by the Gimmes.
The rhythm and melodies were the same. The singing arcs were the same.
It was just about four times as fast and four times as short, at 90
seconds or so.
Younger fans who may have never even heard of Paul
Simon's old hit "Me and Julio (Down By The Schoolyard)" were
so familiar with the Gimmes' quicksilver version of it that they sang
along. But then, lots of fans sang along to every song, to REO Speedwagon's
"Take It On The Run," Elton John's "Rocket Man"
and "Tomorrow" from "Annie."
The cheeky bubbliness of the Gimmes was as dorky as
it comes. Two guitarists, playing instruments shaped something like
shiny rocket ships, hugged and whispered and pointed at each other,
and laughed. Bassist "Fat" Mike Burkett, his zipper wide open,
chatted.
"We're fun, but it doesn't take a lot of talent,"
he said, "as long as your guitar is tuned, and you're wearing nice
suits."
Oh, right, they were wearing powder-blue tuxedos and
white, ruffled shirts.
Singer Spike Slawson appeared as if he were the passion
of the punk. His blond, surfer-dude hair fired upward. He and the Gimmes
transformed the quite-overdone Styx song "Come Sail Away"
into the funniest and briefest of atrocities. Slawson fell to his knees,
raised his arms, tossed his head back, and emoted with the efficacy
of Celine Dion, "... to carry on!" Then, he stood and judged:
"I think we stopped just short of a train wreck on that one."
The Gimmes are no musical slouches. That's what makes
them so good. They're five musicians who usually perform in political
and sociologically mindful punk bands. They're leftists or think-for-yourselfers
who have gone AWOL to do this national Gimmes tour of fun and frivolity.
The songs they chose to perform sounded pretty much
exactly as they have on the radio, but super fast.
So everything seemed familiar but devoid of saccharine.
There was, therefore, no schmaltz left in their nearly thrashing version
of Loggins & Messina's "Danny's Song," if you know how
it goes: "Think I'm gonna have a son; he will be like she and me,
as free as a dove, conceived in love. Sun is gonna shine above."
The only song that retained a rhythm similar to its
original was a cover of the Beatles' "All My Lovin', " which
is 4 decades old. Have there really been that many slower ballads in
between "All My Lovin' " and now for the Gimmes to lampoon
lovingly, like John Denver's "Country Roads" and Boys II Men's
"End of the Road?"
Apparently, yes. And fans loved them, even if Slawson,
formal and pleasant, kept them in check while he left the stage: "Considering
we didn't write the songs, your applause is not very gratifying. But
thank you, anyway."