DAVID Bowie has made a career of indecision. Apologists for the
bearded crooner are wont to commend his chameleon-like qualities, while
the less-committed find cause to fault his gnat-like attention span.
Whatever, with his last LP racing into rock's Bermuda triangle, the
singer and ham actor has now cast himself as the leader of Tin Machine,
a group purported to be of the no-nonsense, back-to-the-roots variety.
The nucleus of the band is the rhythm section of brothers Hunt and
Tony Sales who, 12 years ago, helped Bowie refloat Iggy Pop on his
powerful Lust for Life set. Reeves Gabrels and an unidentified fifth man
complete the live line-up, adding undisciplined metallic guitar to the
mix.
For Bowie it is a performance, and a curiously unengaging one, as he
rocks and rolls his microphone stand in the manner made unfashionable by
Rod Stewart's Faces. Nor is it a return to his roots; though the band's
smart attire apes his mod-era incarnation, the sound is the perverted,
ugly R and B of The Who Live at Leeds, right down to a punishing version
of Shakin' All Over.
For the audience it's a mixed blessing; the rare chance to unveil
Ziggy Stardust's tattoos clashing uneasily with the band's reliance --
cover versions excepted -- on the clumsy, undynamic stodge of pin
machines, self-penned numbers.
The biggest cheer of recognition is reserved for the riff to Wild
Thing, but the excitement subsides as the song mutates into the O-grade
anti-drug polemic Crack City. For all their experience the band are poor
timekeepers, and Bowie's voice is at sea with the very notion of
high-volume aggression.
The staging is simple. White lights cast long, blue shadows on a film
screen to the rear, but the sound is never less than cluttered. The low
point is Bus Stop, an unfortunate brush with country and western, and
the peak is the band's uncannily shrewd refusal to play an encore.
Having tossed, in time-honoured fashion, his sweat-soaked towel at the
crowd the grinning Bowie promised his group would return to repeat the
experience in the New Year. This raised just one question: Why?
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