Sunday, June 24 the mind and voice that helped create one of the greatest rock concept records of the ‘80s and beyond came to The Venue. The man who gave voice to the iconic characters and songs of Operation: Mindcrime delivered the story start to finish with a few extras sending the crowd home happy.
It was a night of modern day Livecrime, celebrating 30 years of fandom. After taking the mission and message around the world once more, Geoff Tate brought the operation to southern Ohio bringing back the devious Dr. X, the addiction and vigilante high of Nikki and the desperate cries of the damned and doomed Sister Mary. Since the first tour, the record has been done several times including back to back with its later sequel Operation: Mindcrime II.
The support bands each brought their own show commanding a diverse presence and presentation. Four Skulls brought a good old boys vibe with heavy pride. Chaos Ritual came with something wicked and some circus, carnival freak appeal while Counting Stars brought the coolest parts of ‘80s glam with a gusto slam forward into the digital age. Family blood gave direct support with Tate offspring Emily Tate fronting Till Death Do Us Part, emerging later as Mary.
Aaron Miller
Four Skulls opened with some country sass and a mix of Skynyrd pride and healthy respect for the brave men and women of the armed forces.
Vocalist Aaron Miller strutted the stage shaded, sporting love for Mr. David Allen Coe, talking about his love and respect for Mindcrime. They performed songs from new concept record World of Hurt. A blunt, metal delivered, story about the stages and physical, mental, spiritual changes and challenges an American Solider endures through training, battle and return.
“Mind Made For Me” opened with a grunged up Seattle flavor, sizzling with cool ‘70s groove and a full metal boot camp butt kicking. The air raid sounded screeching through the sky, if you lose it here, you’re in a “World of Hurt.” Guitars played out the challenging, grotesque horrors of war and survival in the trenches.
Duane Crisp and Aaron Miller
Combat boots trampled the cold, shell shocked earth, past broken bones and bodies as weary eyed souls clung to their pulse, under grenade made smoke and shadows, hunkered in foxholes. “Not Dead Yet” got slow, heavy and uncomfortably sluggish, like well-used battery riffles. Guitar notes screamed out mental mindsets and seared memories of fallen friends.
With some old rock n’ roll rebel spirit and hints of vintage thrash “Fight Die Bleed” repeated the revolving soldier’s credo, and the reapers waiting call. Atmosphere swarmed around “Why” jamming along like shots of whisky, getting stronger with every breath and more indulgent with every riff and note. Struggling to cope with the nightmares and inhumanities, they’re forced to remember. Vocals inhaled the sorrows and pain as notes crisscrossed like a mind deluded and disillusioned by alcohol and drugs.
Rick Macko and The Jester
From Cincinnati’s east side came the deviously smiling, heckling, animated jester and his crew of merry thrashing miscreants, Chaos Ritual.
“Social Destruction” began in the thrash spirit of Nuclear Assault with the grit-toothed jester on mic staring at the audience daring them to react. It’s human counterpart Rick Macko played the part turning the stage into a contorting, maniacal playground. Working the crowd and music, like a possessed big top showman, daring them to respond.
Brent Leonard and Glenroie Smith
“While Heroes Sleep” split clean delivery with screeching vocal creep, guitars playing it forward watching the world burn with saviors bringing no relief.
He’s more “Machine” now than man, twisted and evil. Sludgy, stomping, determined movement brought on the sweat with guitars adding a circulatory moving suit to the lyrics.
Headed to the underworld, like a death dug, post-grave conga line, “Subtropolis” marched through the gates, presumably the hot molten bars rather than the pearly whites.
Shane Mosley
Bringing the grandeur and neon tipped luster of the Sunset giants to the modern stage Counting Stars cranked out the good stuff the ‘80s MTV generation held dear. From high hair, denim/spandex wardrobes to recorded on VHS and cassette playlists. From high octane fist raisers, to Bic inflamed road ballads they captured the best of the decade of decadence with a mix of modern machismo.
“DDS” stomped the pedal hard, blazing a trail down the strip’s dream machine. Guitars tapped out high velocity all night party memories and even stronger and louder morning after hangovers, cranked up by the sun. The night’s when every party and good time finds you, wanted or not. With guitars stretching and screaming every note like a bad VIP backroom bender, you can’t totally remember and probably shouldn’t.
Kris Lane
Bass lurched out on “Alcohol and Attitude” as the devil sat in the glass, scheming with the ice to melt inhibitions and good, sensible judgement. Though, not all legendary nights start and end sober. Liquid courage poured like grandma’s classic porridge as the nights moments became tomorrow morning’s distant memories highlighted in double vision.
Bass started, spelling out sins committed and those still in planning on “Bringing Me Down.” A chastising tune, of street wise confessionals done behind the curtain. Swept away in a haze of bottles, booze and abysmal actions. Surrendering to artificial gods of choice.
“Dream in a Day” was the Mötley traveling tune with all the highs and lows of touring that the rock n’ roll lifestyle brings.
Emily Tate
Till Death Do Us part brought a different dose of new age, industrial, rock flavor. Music and performing is in her DNA with a contorting, flexing talent and flare for unique movement taking the music to uncomfortably spastic acrobatic levels. The music and vocals carried a certain melancholy with an industrial-techno fusion embrace. Coupled with shoegaze, new wave and other haunting subtleties.
By nature, “Watch Me Burn” was witching and carnival-like with guitars slamming in like roaming monsters. Tate’s vocals were high with accompanying screams from guitarist Kieran Robertson. Fingers giving a horror-like background on keys as guitars played out multiple personalities.
Distorted voices emerged from the abyss as guitars cranked anger on “Monster.” A story told of a weary victims, played out heart annoyed, fatigued and frayed by lyrical abuse, being devoured by negative emotion.
Emily Tate and Kieran Robertson
Tate acted out songs with screaming, shrieking delivery, sometimes accompanied with a paranoid, bewitching glare or stare. Grudge, Ring-like movement and passionate role play with Robertson, who got stage time with daughter and father.
“Cannon Ball” was a melancholy downtrodden duet of fragile, forceful thoughts. Subtle layers played over strong impassioned words of desire and attraction. “Runaway” was the bohemian mission statement for the estranged, vagabond free spirited rebel.
Lee Reston
“Salt Water Taffy” started dark as waves rippled by lurking, waiting for lost souls to submerge and free from life. Clandestine keys played on the surface as the murky depths called. Taking the person and memories away like sunken treasure.
“We Killed Romance” was a subtle song about the vicious penalties of hurting the wrong person.
Geoff Tate, Bruno Sa, and Kieran Robertson
Even without the screens Tate, maestro’d the crowd delivering with flare, showmanship and a very intact voice. Wailing out the songs of some’s childhood, teen years and beyond proving, a great story and record never goes out of style.
Like a good showman Tate made the audience wait till the last minute to reveal himself as “Anarchy” reigned and “Revolution” called. Dr. X spoke his mission statement setting the stage for corruption, spilled blood and Nikki’s fate.
Scott Moughton and Kieran Robertson
Crime and greed punctured the streets as drugs ran rampant “Spreading the Disease.” The poor soul of “Suite Sister Mary” crushed by a sociopath’s mind as the Tate’s role-played on stage. “The Needle Lies” for Nikki’s programmed trigger finger.
“Electric Requiem” revealed Mary’s demise as the who done it mystery began. Madness reigned in the streets “Breaking the Silence” with the shrieks of dancing siren lights.
Bruno Sa
The puppet finally saw the strings on “I Don’t Believe in Love” with memories and reality crashing in together ending with poor Nikki starring at the mirror’s reflection on “Eyes of a Stranger.”
The encore brought the best of, for Empire fans saluting the ‘90s juggernaut with “Best I Can,” “Silent Lucidity,” “Empire,” and “Jet City Woman.”
Images by Mike Ritchie
