July 17–24, 1997

music|reviews

Foo Fighters/Supergrass

July 10, Electric Factory

Brian Duss/City Paper

Foo Fighters' Dave Grohl at the Electric Factory.

The last grunts and gasps of the golden era of modern rock could be heard in the Electric Factory as two post-punk bands, both touring to support their second albums, set out to prove they could make the transition from three-chord wonders to pop craftsmen. As for the crowd, you could see it in the T-shirts that commemorated Woodstock '94 and memorialized Kurt Cobain that many longed for the grand days of grunge.

On stage, a metallic blue backdrop and strobe lights attempted to give the Foo Fighterssome cheeky showbiz glitz. The bulk of the Foo Fighters' set came from their new album, The Colour and the Shape (Capitol). Chummy Dave Grohl hopped around faster than the Energizer Bunny, shaking his hair like a pre-teen in the throes of sugar-induced ecstasy. When an audience member dinged him with a crumpled up cup, he just laughed it off.

Brian Duss/City Paper

Foo Fighters' Pat Smear.

Heavier songs like "Monkey Wrench" gave the singer/guitarist a chance to push the hoarse side of his voice. He ended up sounding much more like his ex-bandmate Kurt Cobain than he does on record. Little, if anything, in the stage presence substantiated rumored tension between Grohl and guitarist Pat Smear.They chatted and joked, and when Smear decided to play bass on "Up In Arms" it thrilled Grohl to no end. For the rest of the songs, lead guitar parts were de-emphasized in favor of chunky chord progressions. The light, melodic verses and fuzzed out, full-on choruses made the warehouse-sized room shake like it was 1992 all over again. But the light melodies of mid-tempo tunes like "Hey, Johnny Park!" had more of a '70s breeziness than moshpit fervor.

The bubblegum hit "Big Me" was given an airing, yet the band couldn't seem to muster quite as much enthusiasm for any of the material from their debut album as they did for the newer tunes. When the set slowed down for the ballad "February Stars," the crowd stopped pogo-ing and almost seemed unsure what to do. A few held up lighters; most just seemed incredibly bored. Things revved back up again with the new-wavy "New Way Home," and the set came to a head with a pumped-up version of "This Is a Call."

Supergrass eschewed the symphonic arrangements of their new album, In it for the Money (Capitol), for the stripped-down, '77 punch of their previous record, I Should Coco. Dressed up like mods out for a Sunday retreat, they writhed, shimmied and spit-sung like old-school Jam. Unfortunately, the cavernous room seemed to diffuse the power of their music. Though they were received well, the sweaty aggression of their tunes would have been more engrossing in a smaller venue.

— Neil Gladstone