Poge 8-Wednesday, August 6, 1980-The Michigan Daily
Arts w* .
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Hall and Oates
By JIM ROBINS outlines of the ski lift huts on the slope
If you haven't taken the ride north to behind the stage look like a makeshift
Pine Knob in the last several years, you radar attenae for a military command
might be a bit surprised at how vastly post burrowed beneath the hill. When
the suburban sprawl has spread. What Oakland County gets invaded, the
were once rolling fields and farms are loyalists will flee to the protection of the
fast becoming subdivisions. You pass well-armed, meticulously controlled
billboards luring you into new con- Knob compound.
dominiums with easy payments, to play PINE KNOB is where Hall &
a quick 18 at Arrowhead; more Oates-just back from a tour promoting
billboards luring you to vote in red Bubble Yum-have decided to perform
white and blue for Bill Broomfield (one and make the hearts of the daughters of
of Dick Nixon's favorites). Bloomfield Hills and Franklin swoon;
Oakland County Sheriff Johannes and to perhaps rock the dust of Jimmy
Spreen's men will be there to greet you Hoffa's bones buried beneath one of the
while exiting to Pine Knob at Sashabaw newer concession stands.
Road. The officers come by their drill Hall and Oates open their set with two
sergeant looks honestly as they seem new songs from the recently released
more concerned with directing traffic; Voices album. They are inventive, tight
than busting concert-goers for smoking power pop compositions. Next comes
joints. Just don't rub it in their faces. the meat and potatoes: the big hits
TICKET PRICES are steep at Pine. "She's Gone" and "Rich Girl." From
Knob Music Theater. On this Monday here on out it's primarily the Daryl Hall
night it will cost you $11.00 to sit in the blue-eyed soul revue, with John Oates
pavillion and $8.00 on the lawn. After conducting the band. Besides the hits
shelling out top dollaron the first day of they do a couple of covers: Arthur
the work week, with payday off in the Conely's "Sweet Soul Music" which is
far distant horizon, it's another $2.50 only salvaged from its' antiquated
to park. If you want a plain bagel it will lyrics ("Spotlight on Sammy Davis
cost you 65t. Insult to injury. now") by a fine alto sax solo, sinfully
If you're carrying bottles in your played by sideman Charlie 'Dechant
cooler or a Sony TCM 111 recorder, one and to further emphasize these
of Pine Knob's "Rangers" armed with recycled white R-and-B credentials
walkie talkie and security guard they perform the Righteous Brothers
club/flashlight will search you and tell "You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin" note
you: "No way! ". So this is where for note, but clean, way too clean.
Second Chance bouncers go to sit out
the heat in town.
By the time you've walked the 100
yards to and entered the ominous White
your contraband, they know who you
are inside and are waiting to receive -
and hold your goods until after the By MARK COLEMAN
show. "Boy, that sounds swell!" exclaimed
AWESTRUCK by the Camp Pen- David Thomas over the synthesized
dleton-like precision of the Knob, you crackle of distortion and out-of-synch
ask one of the Rangers why so much bass line in Pere Ubu's opening number
security out here in the peaceful hills. "Navvy." And the funny thing is, swell'
"We want to discourage the kind of at- is an apt description of how it sounds.
mosphere where people piss on each For all the surreal irony and surface in-:
others head on the hill," he explains. congruity of their music, Pere Ubu is
On top of the hill at intermission the purely and simply a rock and roll band.
memory of the first bands' performan- Well, maybe it's not all that simple.
ce is fading fast. They are the Silen- Drawing equally on Stockhausen and
cers; a "New Wave-bar band" with a the Shadows Of Knight, Pere Ubu has
decentbeat and fashionable to dance to. successfully combined a beat and the.
But no one danced. It hadn't gotten bleat with a unique poetic vision. But it
dark yet and Pine Knob is to big and not rocks! And you can dance to it (if
full enough tonight, so you would've felt you're real nimble)! Despite the artsy-
stupid if you got up to shake it. The fartsyness suggested by their name,
silencers didn't find much empathy Pere Ubu is not an attempt to elevate
with the chinos-and-Topaiders crowd. rock and roll to some lofty plane of ar-
Maybe they'll play a Sunday night at tistic merit, but an ambitious attempt
Rick's.-
Now it's finally getting dark. The Be an angel ... -

in the suburbs
Hall and Oates come to you fresh air?" you wonder from inside
streamlined-seamless, jumping com- your Chevette, filing out of Pine Knob,
fortably from one position to the next. going back to the freeway, directed in
They are supurb vocalists and an orderly fashion. "Or would they
musicians. But you wonder where they rather break all those bottles of an-
left the humor or with all that talent tisceptic they've been carrying and get
why they are afraid to extend them- back into the bars, where there are
selves a little and risk a couple of loose dance floors and an audience that you
ends. They've got all the ingredients in can see, who will send back a little
their sound except conviction. humanity to a couple of proficient
"Are H*1*all ndOatesgettig tomuch tehnicians."

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Daryl Hall and John Oates
rn of Pere Ubu

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1DETROIT'S CASS CORRIDOR 1963-1977
Two floors, South Wing--Avant garde scene. Paintings.
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by five men to translate the reality of,
their individual experience into a,
viable, communicable form. ;
THE REALITY of Pere Ubu is
Cleveland, and its music is charged
with all the bleakness and beauty of the
Midwestern urban-industrial zone.
Founded by lead singer David Thomas
and now-deceased rock critic Petre
Laughner, the band has evolved from:a
"scary hard rock" band to perhaps tie:
most original rock and roll band extant..
Ubu's sound has become more and
more overt in its experimentalism, and
the surprising lack of solid song struc-
tures on the band's last release (New
Picnic Time) left many devotees won-
odering if the band's polluted source of
inspiration had run dry.
Like a renovated urban neighborhood
before a national convention, Pere Ubu
was trimmed down, cleaned up, and in
rare form last Saturday night in
Detroit. Relaxed and assured, the band
was amazingly well-integrated as no
one musician stood out. Rather than
snippy solos, this group produces rich
sonic textures that wash hypnotically
over the crowd. Synthesizer maestro
Allen Ravenstine's ethereal organ, fuz-
zy bursts of distortion and hot blasts of
white noise are the most distinctive
element here, but are never .over-
bearing. Bassist Tony Maimone and
drummer Scott Krauss provide the
rhythmic roots in traditional rock and
roll but not without a snaking twist.
New guitarist Mayo Thompson meshed
with the others well, favoring a more
subtle, melodic approach from his
predecessor Tom Herman's clanging
rhythms and slide, depending on
Maimone's rollicking reggae and funk
derived rhythms for impetus.
If any one member to Pere Ubu
stands out it's David. "Crocus"
Thomas. Casting a rather formidable
figure (well over 200 pounds worth) ,on

stage, Thomas posses a, uh, well,
unique vocal ability that ranges from a
doomsday drone to his trademark cat-
tied-down-to-a-bed-of-nails scat inter-
pretation. His stage presence is as close
as the band comes to the dadaist spleen
of their namesake. David stalks the
stage nervously, alternately distraut
and bouyant, clapping his chubby han-
ds gleefully, then shaking his head
despondently, muttering meaningless
phrases - and reciting children's
rhymes, introducing "Caligari's
Mirror" with a broken-down sea chanty
that' is quoted in the song ...
intriguing performer to watch as well
as listen to-something like the Little
Dutch Boy on bad acid.
Pere Ubu played mostly new
material Saturday last and it sounded
crisp and catchier than anything on the
aforementioned New Picnic Time,
though every bit as challenging. My
favorite was an uptempo number that
ended in increasing anarchy with David
backing off "Waita minute / excuse me
/ I've gone too far / forget it .. .oh no."
The older material that was perfor-
med was drastically reworked: "Ubu
Dance Party" benefitted greatly from
Thompson's smooth chording and a
recurring, dramatic break while a
speeded up rendition of "Codex" was
more interesting rhythmically but just
as gloriously depressing as the original
(its main lyric-"I think about you all
the time" chanted over and over).
That's the genius of Pere Ubu; they
can produce so many sonic textures
evoke such acute emotional states
without a hint of laboredness or preten-
sion. It may not always be melodic or
even musical but it's so real, so over-
whelmingly human for all its tecno-in-
dustrial connotations that once you
connect with Pere Ubu it's irresistible,
no, impossible to live without.

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