1992.07.17 - RFK Stadium, Washington, USA

Soulmonster wrote:Review in Observer-Reporter, July 24, 1992:

Guns N’ Roses’ part of the concert started 90 minutes late at the Washington, D.C., debut
 
NO BED OF ROSES
 
The much-anticipated three-­headed metalfest leaves fans wanting more, and less.
 
By BRUCE BRITT
Los Angeles Daily News
 
WASHINGTON — Welcome to the jungle, indeed.
 
The highly anticipated Guns N’ Roses/Metallica/Faith No More tour opened here Friday at Robert F. Kennedy Memorial Stadium, and the resulting show was a blitzkrieg bacchanal that combined ex­plosive performances with food fights and a sordid burlesque.
 
Headliner Guns N’ Roses took more than 90 min­utes to set up, which was more than enough time for the restless throng of concertgoers to make mis­chief. Fans pelted each other with cups, food and toi­let paper during the lengthy lull.
 
Then matters got even weirder. Encouraged by catcalling male fans, some women exposed them­selves for the big-screen TV cameras.
 
But not everyone was amused by the debauchery or Guns N’ Roses’ tardiness. Some fans had to leave the stadium early to catch the last trains out on D.C.’s efficient Metro rail system.
 
“I don’t feel I got my money’s worth because of Guns N’ Roses,” said 16-year-old Sean Kelly of Gaithersburg, Md., who only got to see 15 minutes of the band’s set before having to head out to catch his train.
 
Those who could stay were treated to the usual un­even Guns N’ Roses set. The band started out with focused, blazing interpretations of It's So Easy and Mr. Brownstone.
 
Singer Axl Rose, who briefly was taken into custo­dy last week for allegedly inciting a riot during a St. Louis performance last year, defended himself in of­ten vulgar terms. He also offered his views about the coming trial in October.
 
“I’m fighting for what I believe in,” Rose said.
 
Manic renditions of Civil War, Night Train and Bad Obsession followed. Most interesting was a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it rendition of the Misfits’ ob­scure favorite, Attitude, sung by bassist Duff McKagan.
 
But things began to deteriorate midway through the set. The momentum was severely diminished by lengthy and pointless solos by guitarists Slash and Gilby Clarke, as well as drummer Matt Sorum.
 
The band never regained its footing, and the crowd slowly thinned. Some of the remaining fans were spied sleeping or just sitting, bored expressions on their faces.
If Guns N’ Roses isn’t careful, this tour could sound the band’s death knell. As comparatively slug­gish sales of the band’s two current albums suggest, fans may be growing weary of Rose’s brattiness.
 
Unlike Guns N’ Roses, Metallica seems fully aware that this tour presents a marvelous opportuni­ty. In a performance that could only be compared to Attila the Hun’s tour of Mongolia, Metallica storm- trooped its way into the hearts of the D.C. crowd.
 
Ten years after its independently released debut album emerged on an unsuspecting pop-music scene, Metallica continues to perform with tooth-gnashing intensity. The Washington set was simply superb, more than 90 minutes of nonstop musical mayhem.
Lyrically speaking, Metallica is nowhere near as compelling as Guns N’ Roses. In fact, Metallica’s lyrics often read like bad high-school poetry. But musically the band goes toe-to-toe with any heavy- metal act, and that savage melodicism proved to be the linchpin of Friday’s performance.
 
Jumping, running and flailing about, the band de­livered its bludgeoning music with brute abandon. Massive TV screens captured shots of drummer Lars Ulrich violently pounding away. Metallica’s music may be almost laughably pessimistic, but it is performed with undeniable purpose.
 
Faith No More delivered a set that was energetic, but ultimately confounding. The band ambitiously stewed rap, heavy metal and absurdist pop influ­ences, but the experimentation resulted in an infuri­ating, sputtering performance.
 
All in all, this tour seems poorly organized. In fes­tival situations such as this, it is customary for bands to share the same lighting and staging. But Metallica and Guns N’ Roses are touring with separate stages, which forces long setup times, prompts audience restlessness and invites the sort of debauchery wit­nessed here.
 
Considering Guns N’ Roses’ love of anarchy, the band probably wouldn’t have it any other way.

Guns, Metallica: cream of scream

J. Doug Gill
Contributing Writer

In keeping with the political overtones of the past week, the 50,000 thunder-seekers entering RFK on Friday evening were as effectively split as the two-party system. The only conjecture the Metallica and Guns Ν’ Roses camps could agree upon was that opening act Faith No More would live up to the latter part of their moniker and offer “no more" than their allotted time.

Thankfully, they complied. There is something positively menacing in the way Metallica’s James Hatfield approaches his audience. From the opening strain of “Creeping Death" to the last notes of "One," Mr. Hatfield hovered at the edge of the massive stage hunched over his microphone like a gargoyle guarding Hades’ gates. Clad in requisite black, the heavy metal guru led his mates through a sweat-soaked, two-hour set that drained the capacity crowd to near exhaustion. Concentrating mainly on material from their latest Elektra release, the band managed to delve into their storied past for arena-tested chompers such as “Seek & Destroy” and “Shortest Straw." The unearthing of the earlier material not only inspired the multitudes to their highest level of frenzy, it confirmed that Metallica has reached a level of instrumental maturity unequaled in rock’s Panzer division. Live or on record, this four-piece band is a hard act to follow, and that’s just the position Guns Ν’ Roses found themselves in.

If you take Metallica out of the picture, the Gunners may have bettered their merely average live reputation. In spite of a voice that had obviously been ragged by their recent European tour, lead singer Axl Rose managed to carry the crowd with energy, showmanship and playfulness (referring to his recent arrest for year-old criminal charges in St. Louis). A seemingly endless bout with mountainous feedback also did little to enhance the vocal performance. In all fairness, RFK’s cavernous surroundings better suit a crunch band like Metallica. The Gunners are at their best when dishing out melodic hard rock, and it’s hard to be melodic in a giant soup bowl.

Still, even the most hard-to-please head banger would be hard-pressed to find fault with the set list. “Welcome to the Jungle,” “Sweet Child O’ Mine," "Patience," the rambunctious repertoire boasted every MTV staple of their impressive catalog. Ironically, for all their bad-boy image and ruffian persona Guns N’ Roses were most powerful on subdued outings. The mournful, piano-based “November Rain” and "Civil War" were among the evening’s most dramatic moments, as was the edgy treatment of Dylan’s "Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door."

In all, both heavy metal titans delivered the sort of deafening mayhem their followers crave. A suggestion: If, for the rest of the tour, the Gunners plan on matching the sort of payload Metallica delivers they had better accentuate the heavy artillery.

What to expect from GN’R, Metallica

Review

By Edna Gundersen
Gannett News Service

Summer’s rock 'n' roll ceasefire is over. Guns N’ Roses and Metallica launched their double-booster rocket blast of high flying metal for 50,000 fans at RFK Stadium.

Co-headliners GN’R (17 songs) and Metallica (18) each played two-hour-plus shows, and while neither was remarkably different from recent arena outings, both were powerful, provocative and pulverizing. Ah, relief at last from the season’s lulling dance ditties, country pop and kiddie hip-hop.

Both bands were focused and energetic, with GN’R lobbing the most resonating explosives, their swelling anthems undiminished by a massive venue and slightly muddy sound system.

Never slipping into automatic pilot, standout Slash is an emo tional geyser of stunning guitar solos, most notably on “Knock in’ on Heaven’s Door” and the soaring coda of nastily harsh “Double Talkin’ Jive.”

Kinetic screecher Axl Rose channels his trademark rage into a ferocious and aerobic performance, especially on the convulsive “You Could Be Mine” and a relentlessly manic “Welcome to the Jungle,” illustrated by giant inflatable monsters flanking the stage. He’s equally magnetic at lower volume (the moving “November Rain”).

Less varied and visual than GN’R, Metallica compensates with roiling, textured musical mayhem, whipped into supersonic momentum that flags only during belabored solos.

Forming a Dante’s choir, the audience joins in on “Seek and Destroy” and a quaking version of “Wherever I May Roam.” Metallica peaks: a careening “Whiplash,” the moody acoustics of “The Unforgiven,” and the rhythmic ricochets of “One.”

Former El Paso Times staffer Edna Gundersen covers music for Gannett News Service. She wrote this review earlier this summer based on the opening performance of the tour, which comes to Las Cruces Aug. 27.

Blackstar wrote:

Now, I’ve been advised not to say anything -or anything derogatory- about St. Louis... Well, St. Louis can suck my dick. You saw the news; I was arrested... “by some unexpected guest”. It wasn’t unexpected! I knew that the motherfucker lied and was gonna have me arrested. And the only way we would be here tonight to do this tour was to let that asshole have his fucking way and shove it back down his motherfucking throat (?)! Now the son of the bitch, after they dropped the deal and we’ll do the tour and I plead not guilty, he doesn’t “want to go to court now with Mr. Rose, I want to work it out with his lawyers.” Too late, little fuck! Because... I’m not fighting just for my own shit. I’m fighting for what I believe in or what I feel it’s the truth. And I’m fighting for... 60 fuckin’ people whose lives were threatened in that fucking riot, because that place doesn’t know how to have a rock concert. ... I mean, what... we played some place the last show they had was Jimmy fuckin’ Buffet. Give me a break! So now, it will come down in October to one of two things: either his career or my career. And fuck him! [Someone threws something on stage] Oh! You kidding... You wanna another St. Louis on your hands, fuck face? Stop doing shit. So, with this there’s a certain attitude required; I think it’s called “Live and Let Die”!  [Onstage at RFK Stadium, Washington D.C., July 17, 1992]