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While Peart attacked his well-stocked drum kit, Lee and Lifeson commanded the stage with the energy unleashed less often by their peers than the newly signed. The nearly 54-year-old Lee was in incredible voice, too, not needing to trade in his high, shrill, loved-or-hated register for lower keys as many aging rock stars must.
Their secret? Hard to say, but a long intermission surely helped.
-- Tricia Olszewski
Manu Chao
Manu Chao has a fascinating background: The 45-year-old Parisian-born son of Spanish emigres who fled from Franco was in a punk band, Mano Negra, named after an Andalucian anarchist group. He did a number of shows on street corners throughout South America in the 1990s, but played to massive crowds in Europe, thanks to the success there of his solo debut, "Clandestino." The album is a collection of Spanish, French and English rock/reggae/ska/folk songs. Chao, who until recently had not toured the United States in years, brought that persona and his five-piece Radio Bemba Sound System to a crowded Merriweather Post Pavilion on Saturday.
Chao's frenzied two-hour set emphasized his catalogue's most straightforward punk-meets- Jamaica compositions. He repeatedly started at a thrash-punk pace, slowed to ska and reggae tempos and then picked up speed again by song's end. The approach was formulaic and occasionally wearying, but Chao made it work on songs like "Peligro," where his catchy, simple vocal melodies and joyous pogoing made up for any weaknesses. Chao's sound was most distinctive, though, when his band branched out. The percussionist's salsa beats invigorated "Casa Babylon," and his keyboardist brightened several rapped numbers. The lead guitarist's switch to an acoustic guitar for a flamenco-tinged mini-set added gravitas to the immigrant tales "Clandestino" and "Desaparecido."
Chao reached out to the crowd emotionally and physically. He covered the Mexican traditional "Volver," criticized President Bush in English before one number and paid tribute to Bob Marley with "Mr. Bobby." The international rock star happily put his arm around several folks who jumped onstage, and after the encores, he and the band lingered, shaking hands with audience members.
-- Steve Kiviat
