Revolvers don't go off like Guns

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Although tight and polished, the band offer no ground-breaking material. A composite of ex-members from Guns N' Roses and Stone Temple Pilots, Velvet Revolver suffers by comparison with those more original bands. Unfortunately (as the old joke goes) Velvet Revolver are both good and original, but their original stuff isn't good and their good stuff isn't original. The next album will to have be something really special if they are to survive.
 
The highlights of the evening are undeniably the Guns N' Roses songs It's so easy and I used to love her along with the Stone Temple Pilots Here I come.

An ordinary night, but perhaps I would be less jaded if I were right down the front with the leaping moshers - at least they looked as if they were having fun. Or at least getting fit.

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Spiritual hangover

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Imagine then the shock received, in preparing for this issue's serving, by your Dues writer when confronted with a creeping return of this prosy posy of Patterson's Curse, and from a most unexpected source at that! Purple prose has traditionally been the preserve of the consciously intellectual, "quality" press reviewer. It has, most frequently, appeared in reviews of classical music. Jesse Shrok's review of a performance by Slava Grigoryan and Al Slavik, however, appears in "Beat" magazine, one of Melbourne's leading "street" music papers. The tradition of the street press is for brief, punchy, even aggressive writing which, at its best, presents information clearly and concisely; hardly the natural home for overblown emotionalism of the Berlioz kind!

Slava in purple pose

The review starts well with a neat evocation of the venue's atmosphere, continues with some chatty humour (perhaps unnecessary but not offensively so), makes some reasonable observations about technique, places the performance in comprehensible stylistic categories, contrasts different approaches used… all in all, a fair effort. The problem arises when Shrok finds it necessary to express ideas on a higher plane or in a broader context. Paradoxically on these occasions, the level of writing sinks to the bottom of a turgid purple swamp.

The essence of the evil of prose of the imperial colour is that, while appearing to express much, it actually expresses nothing, or is self-contradictory . Some examples from the review:

"...an album of inspiring music by performers who approach their craft with a certain unspoken reverence." As opposed to spoken reverence?

"...a dazzling piece of classical fingerstyle that gratified the (largely conservative) audience's expectations." Slava plays classical guitar, so of course it's fingerstyle! And how did you determine the audience's political inclinations? A quick survey at half-time?

"Al's funk-flavoured piece, with it's aggressive string slaps and crossover double-handed tapping, promptly smashed them." Did the ambulance arrive in time?

"…weaving the magic of Cruising…" A reference to an unfortunate film starring Al Pacino?

Your Dues writer could go on but space constraints forbid. However "…blues riffs in a classical guise…" does deserve a mention as does the final paragraph which is here quoted in its entirety:

"This evening was the musical equivalent of sipping a fine liqueur - consumed in a small quantity (around 80 minutes), rich in flavour, smooth going down, and savoured to the last drop. My only complaint is that the title track of the album being launched was conspicuously absent from the setlist." Comment unnecessary.

Your Dues writer ends with a plea to Jesse Shrok and all contemplating the difficult reviewing task: remember that colourful and elegant prose does not guarantee the communication of meaning and may frequently obstruct it.

Read the original review.

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