THE TEXXAS JAM

THE TEXXAS JAM

SHRIEK ATTACK!

BOSTON AEROSMITH WHITESNAKE POISON TESLA FARRENHEIT Dallas, Texas June 20, 1987

Elianne Halbersberg

Outdoor shows have never been my idea of a good time. You’re at the mercy of the weather, victim to heat, cold, and bloodthirsty insects. The visibility sucks, there’s too many people knee deep in debris, and morons drink too much and can’t make it to the facility in time to send it back up the way it went down. What with the sweating and waiting, no thanks! This changed back in 1985 when PolyGram graciously sent me to my first “Texxas World Music Festival” at the Dallas Cotton Bowl. The Texxas Jam hosts 80,000 folks and 1985’s was indeed an event,with Deep Purple headlining. Obtaining credentials and interviews was easy, everyone was in a festive mood and the press was treated like royalty. The particulars were equally noteworthy: everything from a couple getting married onstage after Grim Reaper’s set (they’ve since divorced) to some enthusiast pitching his artificial leg—complete with sock and sneaker—on stage with DP, then showing up backstage to reclaim his appendage, which the band obligingly autographed.

This year rolled a whole ’nother rock. Almost two months worth of paperwork and requests to fill out. New regulations and forms arriving weekly. Advance phoners to set up. Major confusion about credentials. Too many cooks out to spoil an already overly-thickened broth. Editors calling for updates. Close to 400 press and photo requests for officials to wade through. Decidely, my final thoughts upon departure (second only to “Please don’t let this thing crash or run out of fuel at 30,000 feet!”) were “They’ll have to resurrect Hendrix before I get involved in one of these things again!” Famous last words, folks, as this would prove to be yet another unforgettable adventure in rock ’n’ roll history.

Lineup ’87 was temptation enough: Farrenheit, Tesla, Poison, Whitesnake, Aerosmith, Boston and a cameo appearance by Nightmare On Elm Street sex symbol Freddy Krueger. Credit for booking this guaranteed sell-out, on the Jam’s 10th Anniversary, goes to PACE Concerts’ President Louis Messina, proud papa of the longest running outdoor event in the world. He explains, “I take personal pride in the Jam because it’s our (he and partner David Krebs) creation. I’m already thinking about the next year while the event goes on. By 1985,1 decided ‘Screw it!’ because of the pressures involved (no kidding!), but when Sammy Hagar played Reunion Arena, he dragged me onstage and announced, 'Louis says he may not do another Jam! If he doesn’t, I will!’ Kids started calling and writing, begging me not to stop. When we did Deep Purple that year, they were such a breath of fresh air, so easy to work with, that I was rejuvenated. The following year, Sammy joined Van Halen. He and Eddie called before the album even came out to say that they wanted to play the 1986 Jam. Again, I was pumped up. Then I realized that 1987 would mark our 10th anniversary, and I knew it had to be something special. Aerosmith had headlined the very first one. Boston headlined the second one. I wanted to get them together again. I knew I had to have Whitesnake the minute I saw the first video. The lineup built from there.”

Under command of Sir Editor, I was assigned to inform you of “what was good, bad, which bands were the best and which were the worst." Easier said than done, as there wasn’t a weak spot detectable from start to finish. Even the crowd behaved! Anyway, as best as I can, here’s the play-by-play. But don’t expect me to be objective.

Farrenheit—vocalist/guitarist Charlie Farren, bassist David Heit, drummer Muzz—were dealt the hardest job: opening the festivities. Despite playing for 30,000 opening for Aerosmith in 1986 (Farren and Heit—geddit?—are alumni of the Joe Perry Project and old friends of Brad Delp, hence their guest slot on the Boston tour), Farren notes, “80,000 peopie is just incomprehensible for us. I can t even imagine that many people in one place. It’s our first big show since the (self-titled) album came out, our first time out of New England." But a mere three on that gigantic stage? Heit explains, "People tell us that we create a lot of sound for a trio! We’re not looking to bring additional musicians on the road with us. We make what we play count in terms of fullness and it looks like we did OK this afternoon. We like the freedom of three people. It’s a lot of fun; no one steps on each other. Adds Muzz, "Let’s face it— people didn’t come here today to see us. The point is to be focused on the audience, create some excitement, let them know we’re here and we plan to be around. We got a good emotional buzz from the crowd (fans were obviously familiar with the singles "Fool In Love” and "Lost In Loveland"), so we’re satisfied that we did a good job."

Tesla found themselves in the "breakout" slot held by Bon Jovi just two years ago. Not bad for five guys with zippo professional experience (save for drummer Troy Luccketta) prior to this band. The Tesla troops had cut their teeth during eight weeks with David Lee Roth, then another swing with "Mr. Nice Guy" Alice Cooper. "It was a huge learning experience,” says bassist Brian Wheat. "Roth knows how to command an audience, Alice is a seasoned pro, and they’re both very nice people to work with. Our album was at 25,000 copies sold when Roth picked us to do his tour, and we are just about gold today.” The most Tesla had played for in their brief history was 26,000 at the Meadowlands. Still, Wheat wasn t really nervous about bringing their backto-basics sound to more than three times as many people. “We just did what we always do,’’ he offers. “It’s the only way we know. Nothing is planned out. We just play and project energy. We don’t know how or why it works. Fortunately, people seem to really like what we’re doing. We could actually see them rocking way up in the top rows!”

For all of Tesla’s efforts to keep the show raw and stripped down, Poison proved the perfect antithesis. In the midst of a hot, sticky, steamy afternoon, they assaulted the stage in full make-up, flashy outfits, sequined coats, hairspray, the works. “The first song is the most important,”, says Bret Michaels. (In this case, appropriately enough, “Let Me Go To The Show.”) “It’s the one that addresses the people. You’ve got to go to the front of the stage, talk to all 80,000. You come out at 110 miles an hour: they’re going 50 and you have to bring them to 110 instantly. You do that with excitement. The best thing about Poison is that we not only mix show and music, but also have the perfect balance of sleaze and fun—-the real rock ’n’ roll attitude. The most important thing is to make the crowd feel at ease, show them expression, get emotion, motivate them. You have to project personality and charisma.” To double the dosage of P&C, as Bret says, Poison recruited Mr. Show-Stopper himself, Paul Stanley, to join them for “Strutter.” Never one to steal anyone’s thunder, Stanley refused to bask in any post-show glory, but judging from crowd response, Poison’s response and this writer’s observation ... Put it this way: if PACE Prez Messina had an eye on this set, it’s a safe guess who’s up for consideration for Texxas Jam ’88!!

I’ve always sworn that if Whitesnake plays in quicksand, I’ll be the first to buy a ticket. No sacrifice is too great for watching David Coverdale take over a stage. Evidently the feeling is shared by many, even if it did take the rest of America nine years to stop asking, “David Who?” Whitesnake ground all backstage activities to a quick halt. Anyone affiliated with the Jam wound up stageside to learn from the best. The man projects with an overpowering presence, yet so intimate is his relationship with an audience that you can feel him make contact with the top seats of the furthest row. When Coverdale performs, it’s his domain. Every eye in the Cotton Bowl focused on him and his celebrity lineup: Rudy Sarzo, Tommy Aldridge, Vivian Campbell and Adrian Vandenberg. Every lyric is from the heart, each drop of passion exposed. Whitesnake delivered the day’s most emotional, awesome set. In a word, flawless!

Members are quick to credit each other with the success of their first show. “It’s easy to make room,” says Campbell, “because we’re all comfortable and confident in ourselves. If we were all unknown, or one person was the ‘new kid,’ we’d feel the need to prove ourselves and probably try too hard to be noticed. We’re all professionals with a lot of respect for each other as musicians. There’s no weak link in the chain. Already we have a bond of strong friendship. As guitarists, Adrian and I are complete opposites in styles, sounds, opinions and equipment; absolute black and white. We give each other the space we deserve. There was never even a problem deciding who played which solo. It took 30 seconds to decide. We each made a list of choices and not even one song overlapped!”

“We decided what we wanted to work out,” adds Vandenberg, “and there is potential to do very interesting things. I confess, at first I was not pleased at all to hear there would be two guitarists! But John Kolodner (Geffen Records) convinced me to try. It worked out much better than I expected! There are extra possibilities and the security of not having to do everything on my own. I respect Vivian so much, and our different styles enhance each other. Had we been similar, it would have not been interesting.

“David took a risk putting a group together with four very well-known musicians,” he continues. “He knew the possible consequences, realized everyone has his own identity. We see this as a group of five recognized talents, not backup players. In a way, I feel I am playing in a supergroup, because I am with my favorite musicians. I see this great groove, which I never experienced before. When I was a young boy, Cream and Led Zeppelin were my heroes. When Blind Faith formed, I thought ‘Wow! My favorite musicians are together.’ It’s something to be part of the same situation I looked up to. I can imagine how some of our fans feel. I must say, this is a dream come true. I could never ask for more!”

“We were real anxious to do this,” says Brad Whitford, having soared through 90 minutes of vintage Aerosmith. “We’re used to isolated dates and doing things every which way you can. We’ve done it all the wrong way in our past. Now we’re trying to get it right! We’re more on track than ever, and it’s really paying off.” Aerosmith was at their finest, even offering samples of Permanent Vacation: “Rag Doll” and “Magic Touch.” They are a rare case, selling out a 1984 tour with no product, and being hailed and swooned over by young audiences in 1987 the same way you and I hailed and swooned from day one to the present. “I thought we’d do well (in ’84),” says Tom Hamilton, “but the level of acceptance was much more than expected. It spurred us on, made it more exciting, helped us believe in the future. It made me reflect back on how it could have gone the other way, and made me appreciate all the good things even more.” Appreciation was a two-way street this night, with the cheers never subsiding. “I often wonder about those people in the top row,” Whitford reflects. “You see how small they are and realize how small you look to them as well! It makes you work harder and hope what you do is felt that far back.” Adds Joey Kramer, “I’ve gone up to the last row of an arena and looked at the stage. You can’t see! But the Cotton Bowl—that sea of people is overwhelming. There’s no way to physically reach that far. The person in the back, he’s on his own! Texas has always been a strong market for us, so tonight, you don’t think about relating to one individual... or one speck! You do your best and hope it gets across. It’s going to be impersonal—15,000 seems easy in comparison. You play your damndest and hope the excitement travels, which tonight, I think it did.”

Boston, despite an eight-year touring lapse, has their act down to a precise art. Tom Scholz determined Third Stage would never see a live performance unless the complex recording could be reproduced down to the most minute detail. So saying, he designed all the equipment and is overseeing the technical aspects of the set, which features Third Stage in its entirety, alongside Boston classics like “Rock And Roll Band,” “Long Time” and “More Than A Feeling.” Actually, a Boston tour was little more than a dream until our hero, Louis Messina, entered the picture. “I started hustling (Boston manager) Jeff Dorenfeld in November, 1986,” he recalls. “He said, ‘Stop wasting your time. Tom has no intention of touring.’ In January, 1987, KLOL Radio (Houston) holds a Superbowl of Rock, where they pit bands against each other. Boston beat everyone— Springsteen, ZZ Top—our local boys! In the final showdown, Boston beat the Stones. I told Jeff, ‘People want you! Don’t be another Alan Parsons Project! You don’t want to tour? At least do a few stadium dates. Let the fans know that Boston is a band.’ Evidentally, that got Tom’s attention. They committed to the Jam. After that, getting the rest of our lineup was a breeze. Everyone wanted to share the bill with Boston! As a result, 1987 was a hot, hot year!”

And one that should be a challenge to follow up. The PACE offices tell me that their president is already on the case, planning an even bigger and better event for next year. Who knows? Maybe Mr. Messina has enough pull to convince ol’ Jimi to sit in on a couple of songs! Either way, guys, count me in!