Post by Michael West on Jul 26, 2005 14:19:54 GMT -5
If you’ve read my novel, The Wide Game, you know that the group Duran Duran was an important part of my youth. I spent several years walking around in parachute pants and a jacket covered in dozens of Duran Duran pins. I was always after the latest little pin. Some had cool symbols for this song or that. Some had pictures from the band’s concerts or music videos. Yes, the record stores were a weekly stop for me back then. Ahhh, the joy of finally saving enough money to own my very own black satin Duran Duran jacket. (I still own it, BTW. As it no longer fits, it hangs in a closet in my home…just waiting for the day that a movie is made of The Wide Game and one of the characters can wear it.) And yes, I took a lot of flack for liking the band as much as I did. The Skip Williamson’s of the world were always quick to call you a “f*g” or a “queer boy” or some other wonderful thing as they passed you in the halls.
In 1985, after recording the title song for the James Bond film A View to a Kill, drummer Roger Taylor and lead guitarist Andy Taylor left the band. The remaining 3 members put out the album Notorious and went on the Strange Behavior tour. It was at the old Market Square arena that I saw them perform. I had seats on the floor; about 30 rows back from the stage. It was an amazing night. And yet, something was missing. There was a small bit of sadness in me, sadness that I had never seen, and probably would never get to see, the original line-up.
Fast forward to 2005. The original 5 members of Duran Duran have reunited and released a new album: Astronaut. They have also announced a tour of smaller venues across the country and, on Father’s Day, my wife and children surprise me with tickets to the July 24th show at the Murat Theatre. For those unfamiliar with Indianapolis, The Murat is acoustically perfect and there is not a bad seat in the house. The tickets were for balcony center, allowing a full view of the stage. Needless to say, I was thrilled.
Sunday night, the lights dimmed, and the sold out crowd began to scream and cheer. With bright lights pulsing behind them to what sounded like a heartbeat, the five band members walked slowly, single file to the edge of the stage. They then stopped and struck a pose as if to say, “Yes, we’re all here.” After a moment, they separated and took their positions at their instruments. There was a blinding flash, and then the music started.
They began with a song from their Astronaut album. Having only just received it a few weeks ago (along with the tickets), I was not as familiar with the lyrics, but the energy behind the performance was amazing. Roger Taylor was there at the drums, still as blank-faced as ever. Andy Taylor’s hair was the wild mane fans remember from his Power Station days in 1985. John Taylor was still drawing screams from the female population of the crowd. Nick Rhodes was back at his keyboards, intent on programming and playing. And Simon Le Bon was everywhere! He danced, he spun, he leapt from one side of the stage to the other. It was like watching footage from a show in 1984.
After the unfamiliar start, the band immediately dove into such classics as “Hungry Like the Wolf,” “Planet Earth,” “New Religion,” “Careless Memory,” and “The Reflex” (during which Simon asked the crowd to provide the “Ta-na-na-na”, as if such instruction was necessary.)
At one point, Le Bon vanished and the remaining band members launched into the instrumental “Tiger, Tiger.” When this haunting melody ended, everyone faded into the darkness, leaving only Nick Rhodes at his keyboard. The familiar notes of “The Chauffeur” played as Simon reappeared, an electronic flute in his hands and a chauffeur’s cap on his head. Unlike pervious shows where huge video monitors played filmed clips and images, a series of huge light panels stood above the stage. Like gigantic Light Bright sets, various colored lights ignited on these panels—creating pictures that moved across the stage. In this instance, the song’s video was on display. The band does not appear in this video, just women putting on stockings and dancing topless. A man behind me, who had brought his two young children, made a rush for the exit at this point, his children pinched under his arms like sacks of potatoes. I laughed and my wife—who was enjoying the night out—asked, “Why would you bring your kids?”
Other highlights were the performances of “A View to a Kill” and “Wild Boys” (two of my favorites). The blend of lighting, images, and performance made this one of the best live shows I have ever been witness to. It was particularly interesting to watch Andy and Roger during songs they had not written or previously performed ("Notorious," "Come Undone," "Ordinary World"). They seemed to be even more active during these numbers, especially Andy—as if to say they could have made the songs even better if they had been part of the group. And they did.
The most bizarre moment of the evening came during the classic “Save a Prayer.” In the 80s, the entire arena was lit like a starfield as the audience held up lighters. Sunday night, lighters were scarce. Instead, people turned on their cell phones, creating little squares of light. Perhaps the anti-smoking crusades have made more headway than anyone thought.
After a rousing encore that included “Girls on Film” and an amazing rendition of “Rio,” the lights came on and it was back to reality, back to adulthood, back to 2005. For a little over two hours, I was a teenager again. And what a glorious few hours it was. ;D
In 1985, after recording the title song for the James Bond film A View to a Kill, drummer Roger Taylor and lead guitarist Andy Taylor left the band. The remaining 3 members put out the album Notorious and went on the Strange Behavior tour. It was at the old Market Square arena that I saw them perform. I had seats on the floor; about 30 rows back from the stage. It was an amazing night. And yet, something was missing. There was a small bit of sadness in me, sadness that I had never seen, and probably would never get to see, the original line-up.
Fast forward to 2005. The original 5 members of Duran Duran have reunited and released a new album: Astronaut. They have also announced a tour of smaller venues across the country and, on Father’s Day, my wife and children surprise me with tickets to the July 24th show at the Murat Theatre. For those unfamiliar with Indianapolis, The Murat is acoustically perfect and there is not a bad seat in the house. The tickets were for balcony center, allowing a full view of the stage. Needless to say, I was thrilled.
Sunday night, the lights dimmed, and the sold out crowd began to scream and cheer. With bright lights pulsing behind them to what sounded like a heartbeat, the five band members walked slowly, single file to the edge of the stage. They then stopped and struck a pose as if to say, “Yes, we’re all here.” After a moment, they separated and took their positions at their instruments. There was a blinding flash, and then the music started.
They began with a song from their Astronaut album. Having only just received it a few weeks ago (along with the tickets), I was not as familiar with the lyrics, but the energy behind the performance was amazing. Roger Taylor was there at the drums, still as blank-faced as ever. Andy Taylor’s hair was the wild mane fans remember from his Power Station days in 1985. John Taylor was still drawing screams from the female population of the crowd. Nick Rhodes was back at his keyboards, intent on programming and playing. And Simon Le Bon was everywhere! He danced, he spun, he leapt from one side of the stage to the other. It was like watching footage from a show in 1984.
After the unfamiliar start, the band immediately dove into such classics as “Hungry Like the Wolf,” “Planet Earth,” “New Religion,” “Careless Memory,” and “The Reflex” (during which Simon asked the crowd to provide the “Ta-na-na-na”, as if such instruction was necessary.)
At one point, Le Bon vanished and the remaining band members launched into the instrumental “Tiger, Tiger.” When this haunting melody ended, everyone faded into the darkness, leaving only Nick Rhodes at his keyboard. The familiar notes of “The Chauffeur” played as Simon reappeared, an electronic flute in his hands and a chauffeur’s cap on his head. Unlike pervious shows where huge video monitors played filmed clips and images, a series of huge light panels stood above the stage. Like gigantic Light Bright sets, various colored lights ignited on these panels—creating pictures that moved across the stage. In this instance, the song’s video was on display. The band does not appear in this video, just women putting on stockings and dancing topless. A man behind me, who had brought his two young children, made a rush for the exit at this point, his children pinched under his arms like sacks of potatoes. I laughed and my wife—who was enjoying the night out—asked, “Why would you bring your kids?”
Other highlights were the performances of “A View to a Kill” and “Wild Boys” (two of my favorites). The blend of lighting, images, and performance made this one of the best live shows I have ever been witness to. It was particularly interesting to watch Andy and Roger during songs they had not written or previously performed ("Notorious," "Come Undone," "Ordinary World"). They seemed to be even more active during these numbers, especially Andy—as if to say they could have made the songs even better if they had been part of the group. And they did.
The most bizarre moment of the evening came during the classic “Save a Prayer.” In the 80s, the entire arena was lit like a starfield as the audience held up lighters. Sunday night, lighters were scarce. Instead, people turned on their cell phones, creating little squares of light. Perhaps the anti-smoking crusades have made more headway than anyone thought.
After a rousing encore that included “Girls on Film” and an amazing rendition of “Rio,” the lights came on and it was back to reality, back to adulthood, back to 2005. For a little over two hours, I was a teenager again. And what a glorious few hours it was. ;D