One of my favorite bands from yesteryear, Mötley Crüe, stopped by Jones Beach on a stop on their Farewell Tour promising a setlist filled with fan favorites for a spectacular goodbye.
It should have been a great, fun show.
Where to begin?
Let’s start with the band itself. We all know that the Crüe has had problems amongst themselves over the years, and their lack of stage chemistry made that pretty evident. At no point did they interact or even acknowledge each other.
It seemed to this longtime fan that Vince, Mick, Tommy and Nikki are doing this strictly for the cash. I’ve seen more people drag their sorry asses into their 9-5’s with more gusto and enthusiasm than these guys.
Tommy’s “drum solo” consisted of constantly calling the audience “motherfuckers”, playing to pre-recorded music while his drum kit traveled slowly up and down a rollercoaster track. If his goal was to confuse me and create a bathroom break – mission accomplished! The rollercoaster theatrics are just as tired as I was.
Nikki’s greatest accomplishments during the evening was shooting fire from his bass and telling a story of how they all got together. Poor Mick was the only one that seemed to be taking this seriously. Unfortunately, he has the mobility of a rock. Still – he tried.
And Vince. Oh Vince. You disappoint me so.
Singing seems to be extremely laborious for the aging former reality star. I only include “aging” because it seemed like a fun adjective to use. There are plenty of other middle-aged vocalists whose age doesn’t factor into their entertaining, energy or voice.
Sure, Stephen Tyler or Jon Bon Jovi do not have the same vocal range they did at 20, but they still know the lyrics to their own music and genuinely enjoy themselves onstage which is far more I can say about Vince.
He reminded me of DeNiro at the end of Raging Bull. A fat, washed-up, breathless jerk desperately trying to appear relevant. It’s the Farewell tour and this guy couldn’t bother to rehearse? This was the first concert that had me aching for lip-synching.
He seems to only want to sing the nouns in lyrics. It’s ok that he can’t hit the same notes he did – I don’t expect him to. But I do expect him to remember and sing every lyric to the best of his ability.
During “Shout at the Devil”, which they should have opened with but instead, inexplicably opted with the crap Saints of Los Angeles, I was so distracted and annoyed but his lack of singing and enthusiasm that I almost wish Nikki aimed some of his fire launching at Vince. We all know he wanted to.
Too bad, Nikki. You missed your shot.