Kissmas Bash is teen hit
Very vocal crowd knows material of every act
Concert attendance in Buffalo has been waning a bit, mirroring a national dip in the biz. But Kissmas Bash, which took over HSBC Arena on Tuesday evening, appeared to be close to sold out, and these people came to party, for sure. The audience was extremely vocal throughout and seemed familiar with the material of every act, as disparate as these acts were.
Metro Station seemed to be a favorite of the near capacity crowd. The band is a phenomenon of the My Space generation and has had a bit of help via some pretty heavy duty family connections — guitarist and co-vocalist Trace Cyrus is half brother of Hannah Montana star Miley Cyrus, and front man Mason Musso’s brother Mitchell is also a star of that show.
The band’s blend of electro-pop, late ’70s New Wave, and ’80s alternative pop made an almost immediate impact on the My Space site. Before the band had even played a live gig, not to mention signing a record deal, it had a runaway hit on its hands via the site, in the form of the teen-specific anthem “Seventeen Forever.”
Concert Review
2008 Kissmas Bash
Tuesday night in HSBC Arena
That song — a straight-up dance-rock hybrid with a massive and infectious chorus hook — brought a piercing shriek from the largely female and almost exclusively teen- aged audience. But it was the Duran DuranLlike “Shake It” that pushed the crowd over the brink. That song, another relatively innocuous danceable rock-pop number, is notable for the manner in which Musso and Cyrus blend their voices. Neither is a particularly remarkable singer, but together they create an identifiable sound that is anthemic and likable, with appeal for the Top 40 and rock fans amongst its fan-base.
Gavin Rossdale surprised this writer with a gorgeous set of songs from his recent self-titled solo debut, and a host of gems from his time fronting the ’90s British rock outfit Bush. The stripped-down environment served Rossdale’s songs quite well. Performing with just his own acoustic guitar, voice and a fellow acoustic player who offered stellar harmonic bits to the proceedings, Rossdale stole the show handily.
This was mostly due to the warmth and intimacy of his singing, which was the best I’ve ever heard from the guy in the more than 10 years I’ve been seeing him live. The new songs, which were not remarkable in their recorded form — considerable over-production made them glossy and soulless — were quite moving in this subtle acoustic presentation.
The Bush songs Rossdale chose to perform greatly benefited from this arrangement as well, probably because they were written as simple, melodically appealing songs with a folk bent in the first place. So “Glycerine” was simply beautiful, and “Come Down” perhaps even more so.
Rossdale also offered a nice take on the Fleetwood Mac chestnut “Landslide,” his coguitarist ably handling the intricate finger-picking figures, while Rossdale poured his heart out. Surprisingly, considering how incongruous Rossdale’s music was in the general mix of the evening’s cheese-pop, the crowd was all over the guy, greeting every song in the too-brief set with enthusiasm.
That was nothing, though, compared to the reception granted rapper Flo Rida, whose third generation Public Enemy imitation delighted the assembled in a more audible manner than did any other act on the bill. Flo Rida is a decent rapper, but hardly groundbreaking. Throughout his set, I wondered if Chuck D was going to appear to reclaim his rhymes. (He didn’t, alas.)
David Archuleta was welcomed with some gusto by the crowd. The American Idol runner-up performed much of his self-titled debut, and he seemed at ease, considering his age (a mere 17) and the fact that he’s fronting a band on a major arena tour for the first time.
He did what was expected— sang his hit, “Crush,” chatted amiably with the crowd, and generally behaved like the Pat Boone of his generation, meaning he kept things white, clean and neat. A soulful take on the seasonal “Silent Night” was a nice touch. Throughout his set, Archuleta sang well, often sounding like a young George Michael with his blue-eyed faux-soul. His band performed an impeccable brand of rigid R&B, which suited Archuleta’s delivery.
Boys Like Girls was clearly the band the assembled had been waiting for. In fact, during the break between Flo Rida’s set and the impending opening of the BLG show, few left their seats to mill around the arena. There was tangible anticipation in the air. Then the group hit the stage and spoiled it.
From the band name — a cheap and bogus ploy that seems to have worked — on down to the songwriting and the presentation of those songs, Boys Like Girls looks, feels and smells like a gimmick. In the flesh, such suspicions were confirmed. This was bogus pomp, but apparently, it’s the right bogus pomp at the right time. Boys Like Girls were greeted like returning heroes.
The band was tight, and its sound — a blend of Oasis-like Brit-rock and Angels & Airwaves emo — drove the house toward an ecstatic state. Still, the whole thing was a bit flaccid, as if we were being served left-overs. That said, the performance was energetic and incredibly well-received.
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