It’s been exactly three weeks, but the first concert in which I ever wore earplugs was Nov. 16, the return of Alice In Chains to the Cotillion Ballroom in Wichita.
I bring up the earplugs not only because the show was outstanding, and I didn’t even pay for it in head pain for a subsequent four days, but because it’s an example of my burgeoning maturity. And, by the same token, Alice In Chains has matured as well.
The marvel of Alice’s music has not been its early ferocity or late, accepting whimsy – it’s always been the songs’ raw emotion – the resonance that drips from each chord, the guttural wail of Layne Staley and thoughtful chorus of Jerry Cantrell. But I digress, as I’ve spouted ad nauseam on Alice’s greatness before. You know that I would have presumably loved the show.
Still, it was, well, perfect. Five thousand Alice fans in a room, all simply longing to hear the classics, the winding, sorrowful, blistering tracks that spanned Alice’s entire run. The hard rock that holds up perhaps better than any other grunge era band’s — and the haunting, humble, echoes that penetrated their entire discography — from the uncaring ferocity of Facelift to the snarky strip of Sap; the haunting force of opus Dirt, wistful warnings of Jar of Flies and reluctant contempt of Tripod.
Yet November’s Alice was none of those things. Reverential and grateful as much for the past as they are simply for the chance to play their songs, the band tore through their first set, stripped down and talked with the audience during an unplugged set, and finished up with the band’s hardest classics. It was an intimate show, William Duvall was great on lead vocals — he couldn’t match Layne’s wail, but is soulful enough to inject his own persona into someone else’s song. Cantrell was masterful, staring out into the crowd and attempting to make eye contact with each audience member, Mike Inez joked and bounced around the stage, goofy as hell, and Sean Kinney occasionally cracked a smile from the drums. But I’ll spare you the superlatives, here’s the show breakdown:
Set 1 (electric):
Whale and Wasp opened with a video, swirling, Alice logo projected on the bandshell background of the Cotillion’s stage … the crowd was a little subdued through Again, loud at the beginning chords of Freak, but the riff opening to It Ain’t Like That blew the roof off, the crowd moshing … Jerry was front and center for Junkhead, nodding as he delivered the riff to end all riffs … Nutshell was purely electric, more forceful than usual and more emotional than the first few songs … Duvall exhorted the crowd to go crazy for Them Bones, and delivered a solid performance … a Dirt fan’s dream as TB drove right into the blistering Dam That River … Rain When I Die echoed exactly like the album version, the crowd nervously wondering — are they actually playing that? Duvall ripped on Rain, the most impressive song of the first set…
Video Tribute to Layne (Head Creeps/Rotten Apple/Shame In You montage)
set 2 (acoustic)
The band laughed, sat, and Jerry admonished the crowd to chant Al-lice instead of Jer-ry, sipping green tea as the rest drank Corona…Don’t Follow opened, and Jerry introduced Duvall before the landmark, furious Layne passage at song’s end, which he emulated competently, respectfully … Brother was next, lead guitar’s solitary chords dominating the air … A surprising, haunting, sped-up version of Killer Is Me was next, with Cantrell and Duvall sharing vocals … Jerry joked while beginning Am I Inside – they couldn’t do that without Chris (Cornell) or Mark (Arm), and then seamlessly dove into No Excuses … Duvall promised the crowd would love Got Me Wrong, and the band ripped through it … If there were any non-believers in Duvall’s ability to mesh with the band, his powerful vocal through Down In The Hole converted. Just a mesmerizing song, and Duvall surveyed the band, before he went for Layne’s last note at the end – he didn’t get it, but he reverted back toward his soulful baritone to close out the classic, and the set…
Video retrospective of Alice In Chains. (Early footage - Brush Away/So Close/Frogs/Died)
set 3 (electric)
Duvall continued to impress on Sludge Factory, with guitar work between an amped-up Cantrell that pierced the crowd’s incessant wail. Felt like it was completely Duvall’s song — even though Sludge was one of Layne’s magnum opuses … We Die Young ripped, crowd jumping like teenagers (most were, strangely) … Angry Chair‘s powerful chords segued right into Man In the Box, just as on Alice’s live album. Perfect. It’s easy to get sick of rock radio’s constant MITB airplay, but the live version always burns … perfect closer.
encore
Of course Rooster and Would? formed the encore, with Jerry wishing his dad a happy birthday before taking over the Vietnam-inspired churning classic … no Alice show should ever close with anything but Would? Great song. Passionate, emotional, raw but refined, and the band smiled at its finished, thanking its fans for the chance. The feeling’s mutual.
