Sheffield, England - Media Reviews

Def Leppard @ Don Valley Stadium By Dave Reynolds

With the sun still blazing as Leppard take the stage at 8:10pm, the scene is set for the crowning glory of a thoroughly enjoyable day. And I believe the question was, "Do you wanna get rocked?"!

Don Valley erupts. There's a sea of uplifted hands, arms and dodgy inflatables out there. 'Let's Get Rocked', 'Tear It Down', 'Women', 'Another Hit And Run' come and go as Don Valley becomes Hard Rock Heaven. Messrs Elliott, Savage, Campbell and Collen take it in turns to invade the territory in front of the monitors as the lighting becomes ever more effective in the dusk, Leppard being bathed in subtle shades of purple for 'Too Late For Love' and 'Make Love Like a Man'.

Joe Elliott dedicates the latter song to all those folk who share a good Northern sense of humour, and finally officially recognises Phil Collen as an 'honorary Yorkshireman' after 10 years in the band. But did the guitarist really have to unleash a solo in celebration?

Vivian Campbell gets going in the same manner a little later. After years as a hired gun in other acts, Viv really has found his true vocation in the Leppard family. And no disrespect to the late Steve Clark, but it is almost as if the Irishman has been in the band all his life.

And still the songs come...'Foolin'', 'Animal', 'Gods Of War', a spectacular 'Rocket...', with the two large video screens either side of the stage only now really coming into play.

It's at this point that Joe Elliott is surely embarrassed to discover that few people feel like joining him in a chorus of 'This is My Home Town' during the acoustical interlude, which also features the soon-come, sure-fire hit single, 'Two Steps Behind'. Well, you can't win 'em all, Joe!

The show culminates in 'Rock Of Ages' and a last-gasp-before-curfew of encore 'Photograph', which must've annoyed the neighbours for miles. Good one!

Despite a few niggles with the sound, particularly during 'Hysteria' where Joe was virtually inaudible, Leppard's Don Valley extravaganza must go down in the history books as a real success. What odds on many more gig's at this venue in future?.

By Kerrang! 1993.

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Def Leppard @ Don Valley Stadium By Paul Rees/Dave Ling/Mel Bradman

IF THEY sold tickets solely to their detractors, Def Leppard could have performed a year-long residency at the Don valley Stadium. In the week of outdoor rock shows, Leppard fell some way behind Metallica and Guns n' Roses on the coolometer. Of course, they ended up being better than either of them.

Leppard belong in a large setting, and the Don Valley Stadium - which made the National Bowl in Milton Keynes look like the glorified toilet it is - was the perfect place for their ideal home exhibition (guitarists Phil Collen and Vivian Campbell becoming adopted Northeners). Def Leppard were little short of magnificent. From the moment Joe Elliott screamed, "Do Ya Wanna Get Rocked?" (and, yes, it is hugely tongue in cheek) to 'the chrome plated strains of Photograph. Def Leppard did everything the Big Rock Band can and should do. They made 40,000 people laugh, dance and sing. They were fun.

Unlike virtually all their contemporaries, Def Leppard have never lost sight of their appeal - songs and personality. Every tune is instantly memorable. 'Foolin', 'Animal' and 'Make Love Like a Man' were born for a good old-fashioned singalong. Leppard are also the five guys from next door. Elliott speaks to his audience as equals, and only a true Joe Normal would disguise himself as a Diddyman in shorts, as Phil Collen did.

The show itself was all cracking tunes, clean-cut humour, wobbly green lasers, and the right measure of drama at the right time. 'White Lightning' and 'Gods of War', both Leppard epics follow the obligatory - and mercifully short - guitar solos. 'Rocket' is drawn out so that everyone - fans, friends, family, and the odd wally with a notebook - can punch the air like a maniac screaming, "Rocket, Yeah!".

If you want to nit-pick, the only new song they played, 'Two Steps Behind', was a misplaced and bland acoustic venture, and the Elliott voice occasionally showed the strain. Set against the revived 'Another Hit and Run'. or the sheer energy and spirit of the band, they mattered not a jot. By the time 'Armageddon It' (prefaced by Ram Jam's 'Black Betty') and 'Pour Some Sugar On Me' climaxed. Rick Allen could have poked you in the eye with his drumstick, and you'd still swear you had a great time.

Savage and Elliott wore their Sheffield Wednesday and United shirts for the finale; 'Love Bites' drained the last superlatives. They were that good. In a week of outdoor Rock shows, Metallica and Guns n' Roses may have snarled and roared, but Def Leppard entertained. And isn’t that supposed to be what it’s all about?

Terrorvision

THE CROWD were still streaming in as Terrorvision arrived seven minutes early. Unlike the day before in Milton Keynes, the sound for the opening act was crisp and punchy, aiding the Bradford four-piece's keen musical eccentricity.

An appealing amalgam of directness and Rock and the currently fashionable grooviness. Terrorvision write choruses that hit you like concrete blocks. The band's wry Northern wit is at odds with the unintended trendiness of their music. "If you can't dance to this you must be French," quipped frontman Toby Wright before 'Ships That Sink'. 'American TV' is a spanking great tune, combining a skull-crushing riff with a spicy swagger. 'New Policy One' started like The Police's 'Every Breathe You Take', but was transformed by Mark Yate's guitar into something far more psychotic.

Being difficult gits, the Terror chaps chose to ignore much of their 'Formaldehyde' debut LP and pay newie 'Still The Rhythm' before transforming the Talking Heads' 'Psycho Killer' into a freaky speedrush and indulging in some tomfoolery with B-side 'Tea Dance'. By the time 'My House' wound things up, the applause had spread to beyond the sound tower. A great start to an almost unblemished day.

Ugly Kid Joe

THE INCLUSION of an American band on an otherwise all-British bill was a major source for anxiety for some. Especially as the band in question was Ugly Kid Joe. Bad news travels fast, and the general consensus of these West Coast geek Rockers is that they're a terminal waste of space. But having an open mind can be a wonderful thing, and after watching their 45-minute set it has to be said that there's some substance behind the novelty factor.

Surprise number one was that they can actually play, and in a remarkably loud and heavy vein at that. Opener 'Neighbour', followed by 'Sweat Leaf/Funky Fresh Country Club' and 'Whiplash Liquor', all engulfed with ernomo-riffs and chunky rhythms, hammered this point home.

Ugly Kid Joe, however, are young and full of beans and don't see the point of travelling down one road if hey can hop, skip and moonwalk down ten. Hence, mid-set, they lost the plot when they indulged their Funk and Soul leanings, making some pretty unpleasant noises in the process. They're much better when they channel their enthusiasm into quirky, jaunty anthems like 'Everything About You' and 'Busy Bee' - the latter being a great, soft sound of summer, lush with harmonies and jangly guitar.

But with the uglies the accent is firmly on fun. Singer Whitfield Crane sees the stage as a playground in which he slugs the mic around, climbs up scaffolding, rolls over, plays imaginary baseball, and shakes hands with the frontrow. Today, these teenage-friendly antics pasted a smile on a few hundred faces, and even left a tune or two ringing round your head.

Thunder

MID-WAY through Thunder's set. Danny Bowes bellows, "It's time to do the thing". Er. what's he on about? "Hello team!" he shouts. Everybody cheers, and suddenly it's very familiar. Too familiar, maybe.

For the past four summers, Thunder have held something like a residency on all-dayers like this, and it makes perfect sense - they're stadium-matey and sit very nicely alongside the mile-long queues for programmes and hot dogs - but watching them today was akin to watching a re-run of your favourite TV show. Save for showcasing their new recruit, Swedish bassist Mikael Hogland, it was a case of all yer regular blueprints: drummer 'Arry's green wig, a sense of all-prevailing chuminess, and standard fare churned out with Accurist precision.

It is, though, possible to forget about this at certain points. Thunder's strength lies in their songs, Danny Bowes' gloriously rich vocals (the best on today's bill by a mile), and the fact that they don't piss around with special effects. And while 'She's So Fine' and 'Backstreet Symphony' may be starting to sound a little dated, tracks from last year's 'Laughing On Judgement Day' LP came into their own. 'Empty City' and 'Does It Feel Like Love' were poetry in motion, while 'Everybody Wants Her' and the love-it-or-loathe-it 'Flawed To Perfection' paved the way for an en masse display of Disco dancing.

Luke Morley provided the necessary embellishments - Flamenco fretwork on 'Love Walked In', languid harmonica on 'Betterman', and a nonchalant display of Rock star swagger - and, sonically, there was absolutely nothing to fault. Thunder are consummate entertainers, but ultimately, it was in relaxed rather than attack mode that they did their bit. The perfect soundtrack to laze on a Sunday afternoon, but the time's come for them to pull some new tricks out of their hats.

By RAW 1993.

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Def Leppard @ Don Valley Stadium By Joe Mackett

I've always felt that Leppard use their lighting effects to excellently enhance their material, but, with the sun refusing to set until late on in the set, the material had to take precedent and, let's be honest, the triple salvo comprised of Too Late, Hysteria, and Make Love Like A Man, are hardly riot-inciting anthems. This being a return to their roots, I personally was expecting some blasts from the past. Bar Another Hit and Run and the recently revamped Tear It Down, what we get is the greatest hits, which really is an excuse for a celebration missed.

There's no arguing with the mid set-listing of White Lightning, Foolin', Animal, and Gods Of War even if Phil Collen and Viv Campbell exercise their soloing skills in between. Mr. Elliot then picks up his acoustic, imploring the crowd to sing along with his rendition of Springsteen's My Hometown. Unfortunately it's a failure, forcing him prematurely back into the bosom of the band for Have You Ever. The closing segment stokes the crowd out of their increasing sun-n-beer-induced apathy by way of Armageddon It, Pour Some Sugar, and Rock Of Ages.

Leppard return for the encores Love Bites and Photograph with Joe n' Rick sporting Sheffield United and Wednesday football shirts respectively. Similar to their supported sides recent cup runs this gig must be judged as...close but no cigar.

By Riff Raff 1993.

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