SWISS CONSPIRACY CONTINUES UNABATED! KROKUS AND THE CHOCOLATE DILEMMA
Good Friday at Cobo Arena: Mandy Meyr had ended Krokus’ 27-minute opening set by dragging his guitar across the stage, eliciting all sorts of nothing-but-noise. The hapless axe moaned and tweeked as Meyr roped it in like a wayward dogie. The rest of the band had left the stage a couple of minutes earlier—ain’t no way an opening act on a three-group bill’s gonna get an encore—but Meyr sure played the end for all it was worth.
SWISS CONSPIRACY CONTINUES UNABATED! KROKUS AND THE CHOCOLATE DILEMMA
J. Kordosh
Good Friday at Cobo Arena: Mandy Meyr had ended Krokus’ 27-minute opening set by dragging his guitar across the stage, eliciting all sorts of nothing-but-noise. The hapless axe moaned and tweeked as Meyr roped it in like a wayward dogie. The rest of the band had left the stage a couple of minutes earlier—ain’t no way an opening act on a three-group bill’s gonna get an encore—but Meyr sure played the end for all it was worth.
In fact, the Krokes had played the whole 27 (count ’em!) minutes for a screwy good time. I didn’t know whether I should’ve been more surprised or annoyed—who wants to like a Swiss Heavy Mechanism with what is perhaps the single most stoopid name on any two continents?? Not me, but whaddya do when the bass player does a manic stand-up drum solo, running all over the stage like the chocolate’s boiling over? And it’s good?! I just tried to forget that singer Marc Storace sounded too much like Bon Scott and went backstage to see what kind of case the defense had mustered.