Archival Buffalo News feature articles

  Two enormous favorites of mine, but on this night just one of them delivered. Oct. 28, 1978  Good Old Days All That’s Left of Van Morrison          A sellout crowd in Shea’s Buffalo Theater Friday got to see a living legend having a dead night. Van Morrison, the Irish-born singer and songwriter rave of the early ‘70s, seemed generally dispirited, sang weakly and turned in a set that lasted barely an hour.          Sadly to say, the most thrilling moment came when he abandoned his microphone and allowed one of his backup singers to come forward to do a splendid rendition of “Crazy Love.”          Morrison played harmonica, but didn’t touch his saxophone. He was generally remote from both his audience and his new band, which sounded as anemic as he did. Oh, for the good old days of the Caledonia Soul Orchestra with its slam-bang breaks and high-hors...

  A night to remember in more ways than one. Oct. 26, 1978 Mass Confusion in Seating Fails to Cool Summer          If there’s anything that unites us fine, fine folks of the late ‘70s, it’s disco. For the Donna Summer show Wednesday night, the premiere musical event in the new Buffalo Convention Center, a little bit of everybody showed up.          They were white and Black, Anglo and Hispanic, young and old, gay and straight, rich and would-be rich, glamorous and aspiring to glamor.          There was a young man in a black tux with a necklace for a necktie. And there was a blonde woman in a black dress blowing big pink bubblegum bubbles.          As far as being the perfect disco evening, it couldn’t have been more fraught with mishap. First, there was the rain. Then there was the wind to ruffle the carefully-k...

  How many times have I seen Bob Dylan? And how many different Dylans have I seen? By this point, I think it was up to half a dozen. Oct. 10, 1978 At 37, Dylan Is Timely Again With New Image          The pre-concert tape is playing “Walkin’ in the Rain” and other naïve favorites of the pre-Elvis ‘50s. For some in this crowd of about 10,000, that’s not history, that’s deep nostalgia.          The usual Memorial Auditorium rock demographics are bent out of shape for Bob Dylan. Mixed in with the kids are a fair number of folks old enough to be their parents. So is Dylan.          At 37, he’s embarked on his midlife crisis by stripping himself of the staid, settled-down stability that marked his early maturity. As the lights go down, the eight-piece band strikes up an overture of “My Back Pages,” He was so much older then. He’s younger than that now. ...

  One of the all-time great Frank Zappa shows. Sept. 21, 1978  Being Whipped into Frenzy Leaves Zappa Fans Wilted         The true believers are out Wednesday night in Memorial Auditorium and one of them’s got a banner that hangs like viaduct graffiti on the wall above the orange box seats. “F. Z. Is God,” it proclaims.         Actually, as rock ‘n roll deities go, Frank Zappa is more like a player-coach. After better than a decade and a half in the game, the father of the Mothers of Invention occasionally benches himself on a stool midstage, grandly smoking a cigarette while the band zips through its paces.         As usual, he’s got his team in championship condition. Three of them are veterans of last year’s sextet – keyboardmen Peter Wolf and Tommy Mars, and percussionist Ed Mann – and they’re well-versed in the demanding zaniness of Zappa’s vision.  ...

  For concerts in the Aud, I usually watched from the middle of the Gold section to the left of the stage, but this time I was in the third row on the floor. Like everyone else around me, I spent the entire Aerosmith set standing on top of my chair. Sept. 28, 1978 review Aerosmith’s Rock Has a Heart of Stone(s)         We’re waiting out a wind-driven rain under the eaves of Memorial Auditorium Wednesday night, our ears blown away from 105 minutes of Aerosmith, when a friend recalls Mick Jagger’s remark after he saw the group. Imitation, Jagger decided, was the sincerest form of flattery.         After eight years of developing as kind of a heavy-metal Rolling Stones, the Boston-based quintet has risen to within reach of its full degenerate potential.         One look when the black curtain rises is enough to tell. Guitarist Brad Whitford’s eyes are mere slits. A tray o...

  The last of many memorable nights at the Century Theater. Sept. 24, 1978 review Band’s Last Bash Sends Rock Palace Out Wailing         In some ways, the last rock concert in the Century Theater Saturday night starts like any other – the guys chugging beer under the marquee on East Mohawk Street and squatters who don’t want to leave their newfound seats.         And aside from two brief announcements from Harvey Weinstein, co-proprietor of this broken-down rock ‘n roll palace since 1974, there’s little time wasted on sentimentality. The bands aren’t weepers. Forget the wrecking ball. They’ll level the place with guitars.         First ones to try to blow down the walls with music is 1994, which recycles the principal members of the L.A. Jets, a group that appeared in the concert party of Streisand’s “A Star Is Born.”         The ...

  One of those nights that turns up on a lot of those Greatest Shows at the Aud lists: Sept. 16, 1978  “Heavyweight” Seger KO’s Buffalo Fans         In Detroit, Bob Seger is the heavyweight champion of rock ‘n roll, and he came to Memorial Auditorium Friday night to give a demonstration of the moves that knock them out in the Motor City.         Seger started with his best punch, “Rock ‘N Roll Never Forgets,” and within seconds the crowd of about 14,000 was delirious. Before they regained their balance, the Silver Bullet Band had counterpunched into “Travelin’ Man” and then “Beautiful Loser.”         The outcome was never in doubt – 90 minutes of the most spirited boogie the Aud has seen all year. Success may have made the Silver Bullet Band slicker (witness Alto Reed’s blue cape), but it hasn’t made them weaker.         The se...