CHEAP TRICK
LIVE AT BUDOKAN (REMASTER)
Sony
Cheap Trick at Budokan must surely
qualify as one of the music industry's biggest cash cows.
It was originally released in 1978, a couple years after
the live album to end all live albums, Frampton Comes
Alive. Live albums were huge in the latter half of
the 1970s, which is incomprehensible on some level since
the bands almost always concentrated on reproducing, as
closely as possible, the studio versions of their songs,
the only exception being the insertion of many extra minutes
of guitar soloing on a few tracks. Still, the well-rendered
live album could do a couple of things. First, it could
create an excitement about the band that no studio album
could duplicate. After all, if all those screaming people
on the record were enjoying the group that much, they must
be pretty damn exciting. Second, it created a "wannabe"
feeling. If all those folks knew how great this band was,
you didn't want to be the naysayer left out in the cold.
Cheap Trick used the live album gambit well. They had generated
some buzz with their first two LPs Cheap Trick
and In Color, but they were not household names.
Their third and best album Heaven Tonight was released
shortly before Budokan, which was probably expected
to create additional demand for the studio album, but instead
it almost completely overshadowed it.
Cheap Trick are usually thought of as purveyors
of Power Pop, and while that is correct, it only takes a
half-assed listen to most bands classed in the genre to
realize that the emphasis is generally on the pop side of
the equation. Cheap Trick, their sound honed by countless
gigs in Midwest bars and clubs like the infamous Brat Stop,
was used to cranking up the amps and rocking out. Though
their songs were catchy as hell, they were also shaped by
the unique and often darkly humorous lyrics of guitarist
and resident geek Rick Nielsen. Nielsen wrote plenty of
melodic material for blonde dreamboat Robin Zander to sing
("Come On, Come On", "I Want You to Want
Me") but he also wrote crazy, dark, hilarious stuff
like "Auf Wiedersehen" (an ode to suicidal tendencies),
and "The Ballad of T.V. Violence" (originally
titled "The Ballad of Richard Speck"). Yep, ol'
Rick was a caution, a cartoon in motion as he played his
checkered Flying V guitar and stomped around in his bow-tie,
cardigan, and baseball cap, exhorting the audience to near-orgasmic
fits of screaming. But he could play that guitar, throwing
off riffs like the opening to "Big Eyes" and hitting
those power chords on the group's canny cover of Fats Domino's
"Ain't That a Shame."
Anyway, only God himself knows how many copies
of Budokan were sold during its initial vinyl release.
And like all 70s albums, it was transferred onto CD when
the format first began to take hold without any remastering
and nary a thought to its sound quality. Then, during the
1990s, a curious thing happened. Cheap Trick, often dismissed
in their heyday as a teenybopper band, became popular all
over again. One reason for this was the admission by countless
alternative bands (Billy Corgan, for one) that Nielsen and
crew profoundly influenced them. Critics began to write
respectfully of their songs and the incredibly delicate
balancing act they had performed between raw guitar power
and melodic teenage pop. In 1998, twenty years after the
Budokan concert, Sony Music released Cheap Trick at
Budokan: The Complete Concert, a remastered two-disc
set that included all the songs performed at the source
show in their original order. It is a great CD, and it's
instructive to see what was cut from the original album—some
of the quirkier Nielsen songs like "ELO Kiddies",
"Auf Wiedersehen" and "High Roller."
Furthermore, the fact that the original release was cut
down to a mere 10 tracks (including the intro and outro
"Hello There" and "Goodnight") lends
credence to the idea that it was supposed to be more or
less a teaser to get folks interested in the group and get
them all lathered up about Heaven Tonight.
So, one might ask, why the heck bother to
release the original Budokan album in a remastered
version? The answer is that the original album is brilliantly
sequenced and an entire generation or two that grew up listening
to it want to be able to shove the disc into our CD players
and be transported back to that magical time by hearing
the album they remember, word for word and riff for riff.
The album hasn't suffered a bit over time.
I have often put in an album or two that I enjoyed thoroughly
in college or high school only to be bitterly disappointed
when it didn't live up to my memories. But time has not
dulled the appeal of this live set nor made Cheap Trick
sound irrelevant. If anything, it makes one wonder why there
are so few bands plying the Power Pop genre nowadays and
why no one has been able to expand on the general sound
that Cheap Trick exploited so effectively.
Going over these songs would be an exercise
in futility, because everyone who was around when the album
came out knows them by heart, and anyone who wasn't will
either give this disc a listen and become hopelessly addicted
or they won't listen at all. Suffice it to say that the
sound quality is very good, with Bun E. Carlos' drum work
more audible and driving than on the original. Nielsen is
there in every frame, whether providing crunching backup
chords or playing histrionic solo licks.
Hearing Cheap Trick at Budokan again made
me want to do like Kevin Spacey in American Beauty
and sit around the house smoking bongs all day, leaving
only to work at the local fast food joint.
