Providence, RI - Media Reviews

Def Leppard @ Providence Civic Center By Boston Globe

Casting off tradition, the British head bangers proved that mega-decibel rock doesn't have to be alien to the format.

They made the circular stage work handsomely to their advantage.

They scampered around to various perimeter microphones that allowed them to play to play to each corner of the Civic Center.

The sound was overpowering but clean and crisp - a far cry from the sludgy sonics plaguing many theater-in-the-round events.

Leppard used a few stage tricks, such as mirrored lasers and smoke bombs that blew down from a towering, octagonal lighting rig.

But the accent for the most part was squarely on the five musicians, who treated the rabid 0,500 fans to an intimate night of steamrolling guitar-riffs and monster sing-a-longs.

The rest of the band, which has loyally waited for Allen to recover in the last couple of years, made up for their own lost time with a pulverizing two-hour dose of metal mania.

Guitarists Phil Collen and Steve 'Steamin'' Clark were again the most blistering guitar duo this side of Angus and Malcolm Young of AC/DC.

Time and again they shot songs into the stratosphere with ear-splitting, but never foolishly showy, solos - as did opening act Tesla,a California band very much on the rise.

Leppard's singer Joe Elliott left no doubt where the band was coming from on such early '80s group sing-a-longs as 'Rock! Rock! (Till You Drop)', and the euphoric 'Rock Of Ages', which included snatches of The Who's 'My Generation' and Led Zeppelin's 'Whole Lotta Love'.

Newer songs such as the primal 'Animal' and 'Gods Of War', an uncharacteristic protest song, fired the screaming crowd yet higher.

With all five band members singing at times, the effect was like a celestial gospel choir with power chords.

By Boston Globe 1987.

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Def Leppard @ Providence Civic Center By Steffan Chirazi

8.45pm, and i'm way, way up in the seats 'n' clouds, on eye level with a giant hockey scoreboard, looking down on the now neon kabuki curtain. "I sa-id a wel-come to mah shooooooow..." screams Joe Elliott. Kabuki disappears, lights go up and there they are, Def Leppard, cavorting around the neon fluorescent floor with the assurance of supa supa stars. They slide around (yes, around as in 'circular) the stage on invisible carpets of Vaseline, Joe composed, relaxed and full of genuine excitment. He saunters 'n' skips up to one of those front rows, throws his arms aloft, screams, receives a deafening roar and hops back across to the centre.

Rick Allen sits bang in the middle, his drum kit on a cricular pad atop a spine of three steps. Whilst the Crue's Tommy Lee has chosen to go upside down, Rick rotates a full 360 degrees, allowing everyone a view of what has now become a quite brilliant drumming technique. Clark and Collen spit out the riffs to 'Rock Rock...', the crowd go ape and already, just three-odd minutes into the show, it's patently obvious (even to the deceased) that Def Leppard and America not only remember each other but love each other way beyond mere infatuation.

'Women' is received like a die-hard regular. Elliott's cries met with a unified thrust of hands skywards and a choral chant that even surpases the band. The musical moments work brilliantly, the circular stage making sure that Leppard give the arena the complete runaround. There isn't a person here who can say that they didn't get a good view of the proceedings. As Leppard promised, every seat is now the best seat in the house.

A veil of superbly worked lights heralds the start of one of the star songs in this US set, 'Too Late For Love', both sensitive and majestic. Make no mistake, no matter how good the staging, it's moments such as these that remind you just how strong Def Leppard songs really are.

The 'return of the 'Thundergod' line signals the most impressive visual display of the night, a fan of green laser lights erupting all around Allen, creating a purple film-negative type image of the drummer amongst the green rays. Then come the laser games, beams shooting and bouncing off every corner in a matrix of perfection, F**k Pink Floyd and their two oh-so boring beams, this, kiddies, is how lasers and rock were meant to be married, in one sweet display of technical ectasy and excess.

Screens come down during 'Hysteria', allowing the title to be lasered onto canvas for all to see, whilst at the end of the irresistible 'Photograph', the winking figure of Marilyn Monroe projected on-screen is as fitting a tribute as anyone could pay.

The encore finds a gloriously free version of 'Good golly Miss Molly' giving way to a bold, concrete-strong rendition of Zeppelin's 'Whole Lotta Love', Joe pushing the words out with poignant passion. Earlier, when he's asked the crowd if they were ready for some 'mass hysteria' he sure as hell wasn't shootin' the shit!.

Overall, a colosal show gliding in invisible runners, displaying not one ounce of tackiness and exuding slick, superb professionalism throughout. Bands may come and bands may go, but Def Leppard never went anywhere once they were on top. Shame on anyone for thinking otherwise.

By Kerrang! 1987.

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