12- The Michigan Daily Summer Weely- Wednesday, July 28, 1993
ft's an 'Alterna-teen Nation'

By MELISSA PEERLESS
Pine Knob teemed with
teenyboppers last Wednesday when
MTV's Alternative Nation Tour vis-
ited Detroit. The sold-outcrowd con-
sisted of the graduating classes from
most areajuniorhigh schools, with a
few high school students thrown in
for good measure.
These concertgoers put as much
Screaming Tees,Soul
Asylum, SpinDoctors
Pine Knob Music Theatre
July 21, 1993
energy into their outfits as they would
for promnight or the8th grade formal.
Doc Martens and a myriad of black
garments and pierced lips and noses
were visible at every turn. Many
women sported the common concert
garbof shortsand T-shirt-minus the
shirt. This look was comical on these
youngsters, most of whom did not
have the busts to fill out their bustiers.
Although theatmospheremadethe
average college student feel like a

babysitter, the tour's three bands -
Spin Doctors, Soul Asylum and
Screaming Trees-didnotdisappoint.
Screaming Trees kicked off the
show with astrong set that showed that
this band is one of the heaviest groups
on the alternative scene. The Seattle
quartet - whose combined weight is
well over 1,000pounds-opened with
"Shadow of the Season" and "Winter
Song" off their latest album, "Sweet
Oblivion."
The crowd gave the Trees a luke-
warm reception, and much of Pine
Knob's lawn and pavilion remained
empty for this portion of the show. The
latecomersmissed an outstanding per-
formance.
"SweetOblivion"isone ofthe year's
best albums and the band represented
its diversity well during the show.
Screaming Trees played to impress.
Their setleftnoquestion that this band
is headed forward at full speed -ex-
pect great things in the future.
The crowd had thickened some-
whatwhenSoulAsylumtookthestage,
signaling that this band may be finally
breaking through tormass appeal.
Contrary to popular belief-- par-

ticularly among the 12-year-olds at
this show - the four-member band
out of Minneapolis has been around
since the early '80s.
During this show, Soul Asylum
proved why Spin magazine labeled it
"oneofthemostcriminallyunderrated
bands in rock."
The band played ahard, fast setthat
surely satisfied. Bandmember David
Pirner showed concertgoers what in-
spired WynonaRyder todumpJohnny
Depp and go his way. Pirner and the
rest of the quartet kept even casual
Sout Asylum fans on their feet for the
entire set.
Although the set lacked the ele-
ment of surprise that fueled the band's
April show in Ann Arbor, favorites
like "Black Gold," "Keep It Up" and
"Without A Trace" were powerful.
Soul Asylum "woke the babies"
when the band played its hit "Some-
body to Shove." Concertgoers danced
and sang along, giving a preview of
how they would respond to headliners
the Spin Doctors.
Spin Doctors showedconcertgoers
a good time. The crowd went crazy
duringlive versionsof"JimmyOlsen's
Blues" and "Little Miss Can't Be
Wrong"-whichbegan andended the
show respectively.
The entire set was lively, and fea-
tured a Grateful Dead-esque extended
drum solo. Screaming Trees bassist
Van Connor also paid a visit to the
Doctors and helped out with some

I
a

Babe magnet Dave Pirner of Soul Asylum woos all the girls.


impressive fingerwork.
During the set, Spin Doctors lead
singer Eric Chunkman paused torepri-
mand concertgoers who were throw-
ing large clumps of the Pine Knob
lawn. "I know it is really fun, but you
are hurting people," he said. The band
theneasedthecrowd'spain by playing
megahit "Two Princes." With mud in

their hair and grass flying through the
sky, fans danced frenetically to the
upbeat tune.It seemed as though many
endured the rest of the concert simply
to hear that one song.
Spin Doctors were enjoyable, but
their feel-good bluesy brand of music
did not equal the intensity of Scream-
ing Trees' or Soul Asylum's sets.


Continued from page 11
Harrelson whose Teva sandals trod in
front of my own shoes asI inconspicu-
ously exited the building wearing my
best jaded face (it's all about looking
jaded), editor in tow.
"Robert Downey Jr. should be
happy all the time," screamed my edi-
tor. "Someone should be having sex
with him all the time." I gave my best
jaded nod of agreement as we snuck
over to our limo, cleverly avoiding the
cameras of the paparazzi, and were
whisked back to our hotel where we
would interview Mr. Downey.

My editor insisted that we change
into our best investigative wear before
entering the actor's suite,andIobliged
only toavoidher Chivasandmescaline
rage. I did not think we would go
unnoticed crawling through the halls
of the Four Seasons in full camouflage
and face paint, but she had her own
ideas. What could I do? She was, after
all, my editor, the OIL among us.
She was right in the end. The cam-
ouflage servedus wellin the large suite
amongst the other journalists. We
learned that which we might not have
otherwise -little known truths about
Robert Downey Jr. He is related to
Shirley McLaine,"butnotgenetically."

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He hopes that "Chaplin" was not as
episodic as "90210" and "Baywatch."
He has no plans to record an album
featuring "The StarSpangled Banner."
And then laughter. The tension in
the room had broken, we felt it and my
reporter's instinct spoke to me. "WE
MAKE OUR BREAK NOW," I
screamed. Thanks to our disguises, we
escaped unnoticed, clutching the tape
ofthe Interview ingreen-glovedhands.
Down the stairs. To ourroom.Grab
our few things. Skid loudly across the
plush carpeting. "But we haven't used
all our credit, what about our $125?"
we asked each other in unison.
But we knew our time had come.
There comes a moment in ever yone's
narrative when they've either got to
holdtheirnoseanddivein,orbetrapped
in the Four Seasons forever, with only
Robert Downey Jr. for company. The
travesty of it all. We grabbed each
other's noses and made a break for
valet parking.
"I love you, Robert Downey Jr.,"
my editorcried outas weroareddown
Ontario Street, abandoning all deco-
numnandremovingherselffromthelist.
"I love you, too," I shouted, with
feeling. What the hell, I was never on
the list anyway.
Butnowtheywerebackonourtails
and we had stories to tell. "Daily or
die," yelled my editor, "Holy Jesus,
what are these goddamn animals?"

A