The Beatles. The Yardbirds. Ziggy Stardust. Iggy and the Stooges. Black Sabbath. The Who. Neil Young. Iron Maiden. Guns N' Roses. Queen. All of these musical juggernauts have rocked the London Hammersmith Apollo. Young set the place on fire. Literally.
Knowing this last Tuesday night, it was hard not to imagine what it was like in the free-flowing days of Revolver or the hair and leather times of Sabbath Bloody Sabbath--especially considering the current fashion mode takes a heavy dose of retro. The grand decor is flavored with the spilled suds and long exhales of many a raucous occasion. The pervading sense of nostalgia was also heightened by the fact that the evening's act, the hard-rocking Australian three-piece, Wolfmother, released a self-titled debut last summer teeming with influences of the likes of Led Zeppelin and Sabbath. However, as soon as the show began, all yearnings for shows past we replaced by refreshing waves of exhilaration.
Following the two-drummer psych rock of Wolf and Cub, Wolfmother entered with pistols blazing. As the band finished their blistering opener, '"Dimension," Stockdale proclaimed to the crazed masses, "It's the changing of the guard. From the Wolf and Cub to the Wolfmother." This initiated an ass-kicking run. We first heard the rolling thunder of "Pyramid," with the frizzy-haired front man’s full moon bays reminding us of the band's handle. Next the threesome demonstrated their breadth of influences with "Apple Tree," which skips from Stoogish fury to New Wave metal. Stockdale then paused a moment, remarking that the crowd might relate to the next song, because that morning in London he saw a lion and a unicorn on a date. Not quite sure if one could actually identify, but with those words, he strummed the opening riff of "White Unicorn," leading the frenetic Aussies into a devastating performance--highlighted by a lengthy adaptation of the number's mystical bridge. The band ascended into a swirling descension, then were pulled out by the drumming of Myles Heskett, who propelled the group higher and higher until, BOOM!, they exploded with that seismic riff, sending the chaotic crowd into delirium. Enraptured fans climbed onto the outstretched hands of their neighbors, attempting anything possible to get closer to the stage. While other, more aggressive members of the audience released their rage in rugby-worthy mosh pits.
Wolfmother's stage antics were doing nothing to alleviate this insanity. Stockdale's performance was characterized by stage sprints, Elvis shimmies and amp-top solos. On "Witchcraft" he howled like Ozzie and wind milled like Townshend. Heskett unleashed on the drums with such an enormous amount of energy that it's a wonder he even made it to the band's galloping single, "Woman," late in their set. And with his Yes-like organ playing during "Mind's Eye," which the band hauntingly creped into following a heavy freak out ending to "Woman," Chris Ross nearly destroyed his keyboard. His dominating style left the keyboard on end--and the crew scrambling to cut the heightened feedback--upon the finish of the set ending number.
After a few minutes of roaring applause, Wolfmother retook the stage. Beginning with the back porch boogie of "Vagabond," the threesome capped off a two night run and an incredibly rejuvenating performance with their four song encore. And while "Communication Breakdown" has been a continual crowd pleaser, the bookends for this homage to bands past--tremendously powerful "Colossal" and heart-racing act closer "Joker & the Thief"--illustrated that the band's originals can hang with songs of old and, distinguishing the need to be nostalgic for classic rock. It's alive and kicking. Just ask the crowd that watched Ross sprint across the stage and leap over his keyboard to finish the final piano riffs of the night. Yeah, it's safe to say that future journalists will hark back to the days of Wolfmother.
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