Kiss, seen here playing in Toronto last year, has what it takes.JENNIFER ROBERTS/The Globe and Mail
In 1967, Syd Barrett of Pink Floyd spoke prophetically: "In the future, groups are going to have to offer a well-presented theatre show." Barrett, a hallucinogenic-burnout-to-be, was not only on something, he was onto something. Art-schooled bands such as Genesis and Pink Floyd led the way, incorporating strong visual conceptions into live shows. Fast-forward to 2010, and we see such acts as Roger Waters (presenting Floyd's The Wall in Toronto for the next three nights), the costumed Kiss, the outlandish pop cyborg Lady Gaga and even the puppyish popster Justin Bieber (who hovers over his audience) bringing high theatrics to arenas and amphitheatres - upping the ante boldly in the middle of a music-industry downturn.
'Nobody wants to go to the grocery store and plunk down their hard-earned dollars, and walk out with an empty sack," says Kiss front man Paul Stanley. "If you're going to pay money to see a band, you should at least see something." Stanley, the preening, grease-painted shout-it-out-louder, talked recently about spectacle and rock 'n' shows - the kind of high-wattage extravaganzas his band is known for.
Last week, Kiss brought its expensively produced tour to Toronto's Molson Canadian Amphitheatre, where a full house fanned themselves in the face of hotter-than-hell dramatics and fire-breathing. Asked about the slumping concert business, Stanley expresses disbelief. "You wouldn't know it from the 14,000 fans at our show last night," he deadpans, "and you wouldn't know it from the 15,000 tonight."
Indeed, while the summer of 2010 was the season of the tour-industry meltdown, Kiss, Waters and other bombastic barnstormers are still burning up the road.
Waters's revival of The Wall, a lavish conceptual piece originally performed by Pink Floyd in 1980 and 1981 in just four cities (and later, a film), is poised to be a knock-out success, with most of its 52 dates sold out or close to it. Waters, with cardboard bricks in tow, arrives in the flesh Wednesday night at Toronto's Air Canada Centre for three tour-opening dates, with concerts in Ottawa, Montreal and Vancouver to follow.
"I'm a great believer that if acts want to be a live act, they've got to deliver," says Riley O'Connor, chairman of Live Nation Canada, the country's dominant concert promoter. "If you want the adulation of the audience, you've got to give, before you can take."
O'Connor isn't just speaking about bringing spectacle to the arenas, he's talking about the performer putting out. "Iron Maiden has a theatrical element to their show, but, more than that, they're hard-working. They work the audience - they don't stand back and say we're here, you should genuflect for us."
A recent performance at Molson Amphitheatre by acoustic-soul balladeer Ray LaMontagne was an example of an artist who has no interest in putting out. Utterly shy, he planted himself at the far right of the stage, facing his band rather than his audience. LaMontagne admits a fondness for large, impersonal venues. "I always hated playing clubs," he told Rolling Stone. "I need space between me and the audience - and the more space the better."
LaMontagne's fears compare to those of the alienated Pink character in The Wall. "Do I have to stand up, wild-eyed in the spotlight?" goes an original line to the song The Show Must Go On. "What a nightmare. Why don't I turn and run?"
While tickets for LaMontagne's comfort zone were reasonably priced ($43.25 to $78.25, which also bought you the aloof headliner David Gray), the money didn't seem to be particularly well earned. Tours that suffered cancelled dates this summer included the Eagles and Lilith Fair - shows with steep ticket prices, but little in the way of production or presentation. "It's not a matter of people expecting spectacle," says Stanley. "But you shouldn't pay for spectacle and get simplicity."
Seats aren't cheap for Gaga ($66 to $191.50) or The Wall ($69.75 to $264.75), but the prices would seem to be evenhanded given the high production costs involved. "I think it is completely fair that, if someone shows up with a guitar and a stool, they should be paid less than somebody who shows up with enough of an arsenal to take out a third-world country," reasons Stanley, whose band charges Kiss Army members a reasonable $35.25 to $139.75 to rock 'n' roll all night.
Pop spectacle and high-wire rock are having their way in 2010, but the notion of fair value is nothing new. "The wave of the future is the same as the law of the past," says Stanley, whose bang for the buck includes explosions of gun powder. "People want their money's worth. It's no big secret."