Rawk Idiot Rawk

August 22, 2004

One of the only rules of thumb that apply to both blogging and rocking out on stage is this: Never Apologize. I mean, would Howlin’ Pelle Almqvist ever say that he’s sorry that he hasn’t updated his blog in weeks? I don’t think so. He would say that you’re lucky to be reading this entry right now, and that instead of whining you should revel in the glory that is this! Only he’d say make it sound cool in his really bizarre Swedish accent so that you could only really understand half of it. So is this review late? YES! Am I sorry? Sure, I have some regrets. Did I see the Hives a few weeks ago and love it? You bet your life.

There’s not a lot of cred in pushing the Hives anymore. After their last Los Angeles show in 2002 at the Roxy, the Hives rode the garage rock revival to heavy rotation on radio and MTV alike and signed a multimillion dollar real money deal with Interscope and toured heavily on the festival circuit behind “Veni Vidi Vicious” (We Came, We Saw, It was Vicious). With a lackluster new release, “Tyrannosaurus Hives,” the Swedish saviors of rock came to the Henry Fonda Theater with a lot to prove, and a reputation as monstrous live act to live up to.

Luckily, their outfirst were terrific. Dressed in black with white jackets and ties, the Hives looked like the slickest bunch of valets you’ve ever seen. Sonically, the group is ragged and relentless like a garage punk band should be, powering through twenty some-odd songs in the span of an hour. The best Hives’ song combine a manic, nervy energy with a few good hooks, but once they’re performing, the music is an afterthought. The rhythm section of Chris Dangerous and Dr. Matt Destruction stay rigid and upright while guitarists Nick Arson and Vigilante Carlstroem hunch over with their heads bobbing like dashboard ornaments. The whole whirlwind is fronted by Howlin’ Pelle Almqvist, a strutting and preening madman that’s taken the moves of Jagger and Daltrey and throws in a few of his own. Like few other bands, the Hives swagger and stagger like they’re rock stars, and you know what? They are.

The show started with “Abra Cadaver” but didn’t really kick off until the 3rd song, the bratty anthem “Main Offender,” a recognizable hit that set the crowd afire. Once the audience lit up, so did the band. The jackets came off and their black shirt sweated through and Nick Arson was blazing so hard that he kept blowing on his fingers like some kind of … wait, who the hell blows on their fingers? What was Howlin’ Pelle up to, you ask? In between David Lee Roth jumpkicks and launching himself into the crowd, Almqvist teased and taunted the crowd with his hyperbolic stage-banter. The general gist of all of it was “We love you. Do you love us? We are great. We love us. I think that midget over there wants to have sex with me.” I couldn’t quite understand it all, but it was hilarious all the same.

The new material had a rougher edge live that made it much more tolerable, and songs like “Two-Timing Touch and Broken Bones” and “Walk Idiot Walk” represented itself well. They only played five or six songs off the new record, saving most of the setlist for “vicious” material like “Hate To Say I Told You So,” “Supply and Demand” and “A Get Together to Tear It Apart.”

At one point Almqvist asked “Is it good? Is it great? Is it genius? Is it brilliant? Is it THE HIVES?” Yes. Yup. Un-hunh. Affirmative. Of course! It’s the Hives. Even if you don’t think they’re your favorite band, they’ll tell convince you anyway.

Posted in From Blown Speakers