It is not often that rock music fans get the chance to see Incubus and Live perform together.
After being blown away by the performance of The Goo Goo Dolls and Matchbox Twenty earlier in February, I jumped at the chance to secure my spot to watch Live and Incubus at Hordern Pavilion in Moore Park, right at the heart of Sydney.
Live was one of the bands that influenced my general preference to alternative rock and had fond memories that linked to college life. I first saw their MTV performance while spending lunch break at Raul Ramirez’s house during our intern years at UIC. Kle Roger Lazaga also brought the band’s album Throwing Copper in school for us to sample; it’s been an anthem we often play while working overnight on electronics projects.
It’s not just the band’s emotion-driven lyrics that caught my attention; I started my interest in playing drums inspired by Live’s drummer Chad Gracey’s steady rythmic foundation and tight grooves, and methodical use of the ride and hi-hat, adding texture to the music.
I was determined not to repeat my solo experience with The Goo Goo Dolls / Matchbox Twenty, I quickly reached out to my former colleague Rahul Sengupta and MFC friend Oliver Dofredo, both of whom I know are aligned with my musical tastes. Thankfully, they both expressed interest and soon we booked our tickets.
Leading up to the concert I started to listen more Incubus music and getting to know more about the band. “Wish You Were Here”, “Drive”, and “Talk Shows on Mute” have occasionally been included in my Spotify’s Daily Mix, a playlist of suggested music based on listening history. I also dug deeper into the band’s background for better context. Oliver then told me about the apparent departure of the band’s bassist Ben Kenney after a brain tumor removal.
Though I was more familiar with the internal rift among Live’s members, I did not have the latest news about the band’s fate, its members, and plans. The band, which originated in York, Pennsylvania was originally formed by the trio of Chad Taylor (guitars), Patrick Dahlheimer (bass) and Gracey (drums), with Edward Kowalczyk (vocalist and guitars) joining them shortly after formation. It enjoyed mainstream success with its 1994 release of “Throwing Copper”, which remains as my favorite album of the band. However, the band’s earlier announced hiatus in 2009 has turned out to be permanent, with band members forming separate groups.
Later, the original trio announced reviving the band without Kowalczyk in the lineup, and handed over the vocals role to Chris Shinn. In 2016, the group announced that the Live and Kowalczyk reunited and hit the road for tours in 2017. In a 2022 Rolling Stone announcement, Kowalcyzk said Live will embark on a tour without Dahlheimer and Gracey. A separate Rolling Stone in 2023 issue detailed the rift within the band over business matters.
The sad fate of the band, of course, is not unique in the music industry. Creative differences, disagreements on royalties, and internal tensions among band members have been among the reasons popular bands like Oasis, The Beatles, Pink Floyd and The Clash. It’s indeed sad to realize that while they entertained us with their musical genius, there were also pressures and disagreements behind the scene that a casual fan like you and me are not aware of.
I was following Chad Gracey’s YouTube channel where he performed “covers” of Live’s songs — it isn’t cover if you played your own music, right?
In the video of “Rattlesnake” off Live’s 1997 album Secret Samadhi, I casually commented on my excitement to finally see the band perform live.
“Great! Looking forward to your performance in Sydney in April, Chad!”
“Thank you. Unfortunately I will not be there. Ed is currently touring as LIVE with NO original members. It’s a long dumb story,” Gracey replied to the comment.
At that moment I realized that indeed the band won’t be performing as advertised, or at least what fans perceived to be Live as a collective persona of Kowalczyk, Taylor, Dahlheimer and Gracey. I would soon ask the question to Oliver and Rahul on the validity of using the name Live when it’s only one of the four will show up. Maybe it’s my fault not to check to the band’s current roster. The situation reminded me in 2010 when I joined my wife and other MFC friends on a cruise tour in Hong Kong, where a performer on board was called “The Earth, Wind and Fire Experience”. We realized why the band was called that name; it was a cover band that aimed to replicate the experience of watching the real Earth, Wind and Fire.
Fast forward, Raul and I met Oliver at Horden Pavilion straight from work. The venue was not as big as the Qudos Arena that hosted Matchbox Twenty, but enough to accommodate eager fans. While I was seated in that Qudos Arena concert, this is a standing room only ticket we got for $175, not a bad deal if you wish to stand just in front of the stage and get the best views of the performance. You just need to be in there early to secure those spots. If you get lucky, you’ll have the best vantage point for photos and videos, but expect to get an eye to eye contact with event security who can get overzealous if the situation escalates.
Fans were mostly males and arrived in groups, though I also see many couples spending the night with the bands.
I checked the band’s setlist online and it suggested that new songs could be part of the lineup. I hate to listen to music being played for the first time in a concert as a promoted single. That’s because I am not yet familiar with the song and thus, lack the drive to sing along, a concert vibe that many fans aspire to experience.
As it turned out I only heard a couple of unfamiliar songs from Live, with most of the ones they played were from Throwing Copper and Secret Samadhi. As for Incubus, I had minimal idea.
Live went onstage first. For a double-header, who gets to decide who performs first? I think being the first band to play can be translated as the front act, and the second band becomes the de facto main performer.
As expected, songs that receive wider airplay or streamed most on Spotify were the ones that received the most sing alongs from the crowd, with the band leveraging their engagement. Although our view is not the most optimal, no thanks to our height issues, the experience was superior since it allowed to use more space to engage with the band’s music.
Live’s encore number, “Lightning Crashes” was a moving performance especially if you had context behind the band’s (or shall we say Ed’s) inclination towards faith, spirituality, existentialism, and the human experience. The crowed was overwhelmingly participative, and that kind of made up for the disappointment I felt when realizing it’s not the band I know who is performing onstage.
With the conclusion of the concert, my year’s quota for concert viewing formally exhausted. But while I am still wishing I could see the 75% of Toad the Wet Sprocket’s original lineup perform over summer and fall in America, I am happy with the Australian concert experience so far.