ReviewTom Petty understands audience
By Gary Graff
Beaver Country Times - Wednesday, July 16, 1980
Tom Petty does something with his songs that too few musicians are doing nowadays: He writes about fans frustrations, which also happen to be his frustrations. Topics range from romance (mainly) to generally being fed-up with life, but in each case Petty tried to become a mirror for the feelings and frustrations he senses in his teen-age audience.
The audience at his Stanley Theare concert last Thursday was certainly teen-age -- and abundantly female -- and if the fans wanted to indeed use Petty as a reflecting glass for their problems, he was happy to comply.
Listening to his records, it's easy to doubt his sincerity and his "understanding" nature. Writing about teen-age frustrations (particularly when you're no longer a teenager) is one thing, but understanding what you're writing about is another. In concert, even if he doesn't really understand what he's writing and singing about, Petty sure makes it look like he does.
And, most importantly, the kids believed that Petty understood. They screamed their agreement for lines like "sometimes this town just seems so hopeless" from "Here Comes My Girl" and the cautiously optimistic chorus of "Even the Losers."
The girls in the crowd were there to watch Petty more than to listen to him. Dressed in a green shirt with black polka dots and tight black slacks, Petty served their interests by tramping around a platform that extended across the orchestra pit, giving the girls a good view of all sides.
He also managed not to lose his macho appeal. More than anything else, Petty sings about girls from a male viewpoint. Songs like "Shadow of a Doubt" (the opening number), "Here Comes My Girl" and "Need to Know" from all indications gave Petty's male audience what it came to hear.
Whatever appeal Petty has, the clincher in the concert's success was the Heartbreakers. After the second number, an aggressive rendering of "Fool Again," Petty told the sold-out audience "the band is in a particularly good mood tonight." The statement was accurate.
Mike Campbell, the lazy-faced lead guitarist, provided the most dynamic musical moments of the concert. Perched on the edge of the stage, Campbell's searing solos took the spotlight also as many times as Petty did. Ron Blair and Stan Lynch provided a solid bottom and some moments of their own: Blair's came with his base leads on "American Girl," while Lynch's moments were his harmonies with Petty, whose singing was a bit weak and raspy.
Then there was Benmont Tench. Behind his friendly smile and congenial bounding around, Tench supplied keyboard strength that wasn't really noticed until you thought about it. He never really soloed, but his playing on the spooky, "Luna" (with Petty on organ), "Don't Do Me Like That" and "Breakdown" stood out.
The only thing wrong with Petty and the Heartbreakers' show was the song selection. The right songs were played, but by the time a rendition of "Shout" ended the main body of the concert, all the hits -- "Refugee," "American Girl" and "Breakdown" -- had been played. They were all strongly performed, except for "Breakdown" in which Petty's mock breakdown seemed a little boring and a lot contrived.
There was even a new, unrecorded song that fit Petty's style well. "The Best of Everything" is a ballad, a lament over lost love but with a (seemingly) amicable resolution. It worked.
But the encores didn't -- something was missing. There were no hits, no show-stoppers left to end the performance. Petty and his band did deliver four pounding rockers including "Strangers in the Night" and "Century City," but the lack of a first-line song was noticed by the crowd as many left while Petty was still performing the songs.
It may not have been a suitable ending, but it was in general a more than suitable night. Petty fans -- male and female -- got exactly what they came for and no one left the concert feeling frustrated.
ReviewRock: Petty in Concert
By Stephen Holden
The New York Times - Monday, June 17, 1985
Classic rock and roll that extends and deepens traditions established in the 60's and early 70's may be a slowly vanishing breed of music. But its most dedicated practitioners continue to produce a guitar-based electric music that is a ruminative, visceral expression of populist feeling.
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, who performed at the Byrne Meadowlands Arena on Saturday, belong to this breed, as do Bob Seger and Bruce Springsteen. Each represents a different, though related, aspect of the American sensibility. Mr. Petty, who was brought up in Gainesville, Fla., writes and sings from a working-class Southern point of view. And on his latest album, "Southern Accents," he has created a sequence of pungent dramatic monologues that draw a composite portrait of a restless young Southerner.
Although Mr. Petty performed songs that ranged back to the mid-70's on Saturday, the concert versions of material from "Southern Accents" formed the artistic heart of his show, and they gave his set an emotional depth and psychological resonance that one seldom encounters at a rock concert these days. The album's hard, blues-based songs, "It Ain't Nothin' to Me," "Spike" and "Dogs on the Run," in which a contemporary Southern rebel expresses his regional pride as an animalistic indifference to contemporary culture, were drawn out by full-bodied arrangements that featured the snarling guitar solos of the Heartbreakers' lead guitarist, Mike Campbell. And Mr. Petty's surly, half-strangulated vocals, echoing Bob Dylan and the Byrds' Roger McGuinn, more than matched the recorded versions in dramatic impact. Mr. Petty's quaveringly articulated rendition of the new album's hymnlike title song provided the still point around which the rest of the songs cohered.
ReviewPetty Puts Focus On Social Ills
By Robert Hilburn
The Los Angeles Times - Monday, June 8, 1987
Tom Petty is a classic American rocker who used to supplement his own songs in concert with party-minded numbers by Chuck Berry and other early rock or R&B figures.
On Saturday night at the Pacific Amphitheatre, he instead spotlighted "For What It's Worth," the Buffalo Springfield's memorable 1967 reaction to repressive authority.
He and the Heartbreakers' version was darkly poignant, but in no way merely nostalgic. There was an anger and disconsolation in Petty's voice that seemed directed entirely at today's unsettled--and unsettling--social agenda.
Do you think he and the band--who open a four-night stand tonight at the Universal Amphitheatre--were trying to tell us something?
Absolutely.
There's a subtle injection of social comment in several tracks on the group's outstanding new "Let Me Up (I've Had Enough)" album, but Petty--speaking to the audience much more freely between songs than before--was even more aggressive about social issues on stage.
To avoid the impression of a lecture, the lean, blond singer weaved remarks about social problems--the homeless, preteens on crack, the unemployed--into a story about troubling things he has seen from the window of his tour bus.
He then turned to a more specific reflection about the credibility of people who are looked upon, to varying degrees, as leaders in this country. Whom do you trust anymore, he asked. Reagan? Bush? Falwell? The CIA?
"It dawned on me a few days ago that in this time and age, you'd better trust yourself," he continued, moving into the Springfield song.
After that tune, Petty referred to the May 17 fire that destroyed his Encino house--a fire that officials believe was deliberately set. "Someone burned my house down," he said. Holding his guitar over his head, he added, "But he didn't burn this down. . . ."
Again using the rock example to illustrate a larger point, he continued, "You can have (all kinds of material possessions), but it ain't nothing. It's just stuff. . . ."
Petty then went into "The Waiting," one of his many early compositions that deals with the struggle to maintain integrity.
This toughened social attitude and more open manner on stage gave the evening a freedom and focus that makes this tour shape up as potentially the Heartbreakers' best in years. Things should get even better as the quintet begins featuring more songs from the new album. (Saturday's lineup offered only three of the new tunes, including the raucous single, "Jammin' Me" and the melancholy "It'll All Work Out.")
After living up to the considerable challenge last year of playing behind rock's greatest songwriter (Dylan), the Heartbreakers gave themselves another sizable test in inviting two frisky, upcoming bands to open the shows: the Georgia Satellites and the Del Fuegos.
If there were any signs of cobwebs in the veteran group, they would be magnified on a bill with these energetic outfits. But there were no signs of wear. Indeed, the Heartbreakers seem revitalized, played with a freshness and hunger that is in keeping with the spunk and craft of the new Petty tunes.
Both the Satellites and the Del Fuegos are no-nonsense, guitar-oriented bar bands, though the Satellites' good-times manner is a lot more appealing than the Del Fuegos' somewhat colorless and unduly insistent irreverence.
ReviewTom Petty and the Heartbreakers
By Fran Brancatelli
CLC Observer - Wednesday, September 2, 1987
The Rock and Roll Caravan starring Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers invaded Jones Beach for a night of solid Southern Rock.
Petty opened the show with "Think About Me" from his latest album Let Me Up I've Had Enough. Petty continued to crank out hits like "Breakdown," "Don't Come Around Here No More" and "An American Girl." He also layed two more cuts off the latest album -- "Jammin' Me" and "Runaway Trains" -- but his performance was highlighted by his performance of such classic tunes as "The Waiting" and "Refugee."
Besides playing his own songs Petty did a good rendition of Buffalo Springfield's "For What It's Worth" and also borrowed tunes from Bob Dylan, The Clash, and Chuck Berry.
The Del Fuegos, a band from Boston which plays a blend of country-rock music, was the Caravan's opening act. They were followed by the Georgia Satellites, who strolled onto the stage to the theme from The Beverly Hillbillies. The Satellites sounded great live, and really warmed up the crowd for Petty by playing their recent hits -- "Keep Your Hands To Yourself" and "Battleship Chains," as well as other tunes.
From beginning to end, the Rock and Roll Caravan provided a night of great rock, the chance to hear an accomplished musician, but two up and coming bands.
ReviewRoy Orbison Mines Some Old Gold
By Peter Watrous
The New York Times
Sunday, July 31, 1988
Roy Orbison, who played at Pier 84 Wednesday night, got right to the point: he opened his show with his hit ''Only the Lonely,'' setting the open spaces in the tune's arrangement ringing with his quivering, over-ripe falsetto.
For the next hour or so, Mr. Orbison, a genuine American eccentric, brought out his hits - ''Blue Bayou,'' ''Pretty Woman,'' ''Dream Baby'' -songs that have permeated the American consciousness. Singing in his gilt-laden, extreme voice, he turned ballads into dreamlike, claustrophobically intimate set pieces. Mr. Orbison knows how to freeze time, so that every element of a song gleams as if magnified, and he would insert into tunes sections where the instruments would fall away to expose his voice. The audience, standing up and singing along, was ecstatic.
Mr. Orbison, dressed in his trademark black shirt and pants and sunglasses, also tore up rock-and-roll tunes; though he's known for his ballads, he started his recording career as a rock singer. He may be America's finest white blues interpreter; dropping a couple of pounds of ornamentation from his voice, he sang such standards as ''I Got a Woman'' and some of his earlier tunes, including ''Ooby Dooby'' and ''Candy Man.''
Of all the rock-and-roll singers of his generation, Mr. Orbison is the least obsessed with masculinity; the music and his voice and words are unmenacing and complex. He has perfected an odd vision of popular music, one in which eccentricity and imagination beat back all the pressures toward conformity, and after 30 years of singing, he's as good as ever.
ReviewPetty, Heartbreakers Purvey Emotional Sincerity at SPAC
By Mike Hochanadel
Schenectady Gazette - Tuesday, July 28, 1981
When Tom Petty sang the line "Saratoga rain" for "Louisiana Rain" Sunday night at SPAC, he paid a sincere tribute to the 12,300 fans who braved a series of downpours to see him. "I'm impressed," he said, squinting into the rain. So were his fans, by the best rock show this summer.
Opening act Split Enz tried to be the band in their song "Hard Act to Follow" but Petty blew away the competition -- and his rain-soaked fans with passionate rock and roll.
Petty was almost unknown when he opened for Edgar Winters at the Palace in 1977, yet "star" was written all over him.
He had classic Chuck Berry moves onstage and a tight, basic-rock band. He had beautiful pop songs with great hooks and a convincingly innocent romanticism. He was hot, but also tender. He rocked, but his music expressed feelings he wasn't afraid to show. Backstage, he said "I'm trying to play music that sounds alive on the radio."
It worked: his music kept its innocence through "You're Gonna Get It" and his 1979 breakthrough, "Damn the Torpedoes." It sounded great all over the radio.
"Hard Promises," a transitional LP with new, narrative songwriting, hasn't matched the huge success of "Torpedoes," but his well-deserved popularity onstage remains.
Petty opened explosively with "American Girl" then "Listen to Her Heart" and closed two hours later with classic-rock encores. These songs defined his style. His own music tapped the same current of exuberent romance that explodes in "Shout," and the Byrds-Stones guitar sound of "American Girl" -- his first hit -- echoed through most of his music.
In between he mixed up rockers and ballads from his five LPs -- acting the songs as well as singing them to express the direct emotional intensity behind the music. "I Got a Thing About You" rose and fell in successive codas that tiptoed gently around the melody -- then stomped all over it. Petty sang with all the vulnerable, naive pride of teen love on ""Here Comes My Girl" and exploded with rage on "Breakdown." At the end of the song, a drained-looking Petty rested his head on his arms draped over the mike-stand -- a gesture of despair that perfectly symbolized the desperation of his lyrics.
This kind of theatrical touch -- dramatic yet real -- elevates Petty's music into a rare class of rock artistry his earlier performances -- and records -- merely promised. It's a territory very few musicians occupy, including the great soul and reggae singers, Springsteen and Joe Ely.
There are no virtuosos in the Heartbreakers, yet they are a first-class band since they play with such spirit and connect so directly with Petty's classic-rock moves. Like the Stones, the Heartbreakers roll on a huge drum sound -- Stan Lynch's drumming is enormous -- and punchy rhythm guitar. Petty and Mike Campbell -- whose repetivie leads are less convincing than his busy chord-riffing -- weave a tough Byrds/Stones texture. Lynch adds expert harmonies to Petty's lead vocals and keyboard man Benmont Tench plays more prominently than in the past -- perhaps reflecting the influence of "Hard Promises" co-producer Jimmy Iovine who loves keyboard. Their no-frills arranging -- underlining Petty's hook-laden pop melodies -- echoes Creedence Clearwater Revival in its directness and power. There is no lack of nuances -- the quick tempo changes of "King's Road" and the way Petty aptly substitued "Saratoga rain" for "Louisiana Rain" Sunday night -- but no phoniness at all.
Split Enz opened with 45 minutes of the very clever pop that made them a huge success in their native Australia before "True Colors" (A&M) broke them in the States last year.
Ironic songwriting and edgy, electronic grooves that echo Roxy Music and David Bowie place Split Enz squarely in the modernist camp, as did the garish rockabilly suits they wore at SPAC on Sunday.
Enz' songwriter Tim Finn sang beautifully over a metronomic jangle of guitar and electronic keyboards. The music from "True Colors" and "Waiata" sounded faster and emotionally more compelling onstage than on their often icy records -- even though Finn's ironic neo-robot posturing added an ambiguous note of machinery at play.
Surprisingly the match-up proved to be a very effective one. Petty's sincerity rang especially true after Split Enz' coyly contrived ironies, and the impressive performing skill shown by the New Zealand band really put the Heartbreakers on their toes. Both bands featured extraordinary vocals over powerful, simple grooves. Excellent sound engineering delivered this fine concert with satisfying impact and a clarity in the vocals rare in concerts of such large scale.
ReviewPetty's transformation leaves his audience shouting for more
By Cathy M. Lewis
Lakeland Ledger - Monday, October 5, 1981
Donning cowboy boots and a blue bandanna tied beneath a full-toothed grin, Tom Petty moved onto the Lakeland stage Friday looking like the embodiment of the mythical all-American boy.
Petty smiled his way through "American Girl" and "Listen to Her Heart" with the naturalness of water moving against the coastline of Florida, his native state. Even a haunting keyboard solo by Benmont Tench on the grand piano during "A Thing About You" didn't erase Petty's smile.
When the band launced into "I'm in Love," Petty skipped and swaggered across the stage with the joy of an adolescent in puppy love.
Watch Petty prance. Watch Petty preen. The rest of the audience leaned back and relaxed. They'd just watch and wait their turn. And the singer didn't disappoint them.
It was a slow build. Petty mixed just enough pain into "Here Comes My Girl" to make the words sound as though they came from personal experience. And there was just enough of Bruce Springsteen in his voice to assure the few 25-year-olds in the audience he knew what rock 'n' roll was about.
It was the beginning of a transformation that would leave Petty's audience gasping for relief yet begging for more. Somewhere between the Kingsmen's classic "Louie, Louie" and Petty's own "Kings Road," the all-American boy became a passionate, streetwise rocker.
Once the atmosphere in the civic center changed, there was little relief. Only a few tuned like "Night Watchman" -- a song inspired by the man who protects Petty's privacy at his San Fernando Home and backed Friday with a dazzling light show -- and "Even the Losers Get Lucky" slowed the musical pulse of the evening.
Even then, with Petty leaning over his audience like a mad magician, swinging his arms full circle to end in a thunderous slash across his guitar, you could feel the momentum rolling through like shock waves.
When Petty's voice cried with the ache of dashed hopes "she's a woman in love but it's not me," Tench pulled the full power of his rhythm and blues background from the ivories. Teen-agers, some yet to experience that kind of pain, moaned right along with them.
When the lights went down and Petty grabbed the mike around the throat and demanded seductively, "You've got to give it to me," the now hypnotized crowd groaned in anticipation of "Breakdown." They were in love and their affair with Petty was not the light, joyful love of the first 15 minutes of this concert. This affair was full blown and passionate. They weren't letting go.
The band launched into "Refugee" with exuberance, rocking with the Dylanesque lyric as if they had come home. The crowd didn't mind. If Petty was clinging to his last like his critics have said, they would cling right along with him.
The acceptance of Petty's occasional revelry into his roots was amazing considering the same audience had heartly booed Joe Ely's late '50s style during the opening act.
When Petty left the stage, the crowd wasn't having any of it. Encoring with Sly and the Family Stone's hit "Shout," Petty led his believers with the fervor of a Southern minister. The force of their response literally knocked him flat on his back.
Even Petty seemed amazed at the feeling he was producing. He turned over, crawling belly down to the front of the stage, brought the mike down to the floor and hid behind a speaker.When Petty pulled his head from behind the speaker, one hand following the other, they were ready for him. He shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you," he said. "Boy, is it good to be home!"
For Petty, it was the climax of the show. And when his fans demanded a second encore, he slowed the tempo with a song from his new album. He must have realized that if he didn't, he would never get out of the auditorium.
Still the believers stayed. When the house lights came up a moan of disappointment rolled its way across the crowd, as one by one, his congregation realized Petty was gone.
He had charmed them, wooed them, moved them and now he had left them -- left them begging for more.
ReviewCrowd loves what Petty has to offer
By Phil Chen
The Stanford Daily - Tuesday, July 30, 1985
The Concord Pavilion, a grass-and-concrete bowl located in the hills east of Berkeley, was th site Saturday night of performances by a new band, Lone Justice, and by a group that has been around since 1975, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.
Lone Justice is a Texas-based country-rock outfit that has been hyped into hyperspace by Geffen Records as rock's Next Great Breakthrough. With promotion like that, I was not surprised to find myself disappointed in the band. Maria McKee can certainly sing; she had a good range and was capable of packing real emotional punch into her delivery. However, I didn't care much for her screechy little-girl voice, which always made her sound as if she were throwing a tantrum.
Musically, the band sounded like many other "cowpunk" bands: basic rock beat overlaid with Marlboro Country guitar riffs. Guitarists Ryan Hedgecock and Tony Gilkyson, bassist Marvin Etzioni and drummer Don Heffington worked together to form a competent, dull unit that never explored beyond its own very constrained musical limits.
Lone Justice ran through almost every song on its current LP, including the Petty-penned "Ways To Be Wicked." Fortunately for the band, the crowd was in a terrific mood and cheered raucously after every song; even so, Lone Justice declined to play en encore when its set ended.
But the crowd, an older-looking bunch (definitely not teeny-boppers), came to see Tom Petty and his Heartbreakers, and from the opening chords of "American Girl" to the last encore an hour and 40 minutes later, he was clearly their rock 'n' roll hero. Every word he uttered and every song the group played drew an awesome response from the crowd. When Petty asked them, roughly a quarter of the crowd indicated that they had seen his show in Berkeley the night before.
What made this concert particularly fine was Petty's true appreciation of their adulation; he didn't let his status go to his head, but remained open and easygoing, even humorous at times. This didn't mean he was unaware of his control over the audience; during a song, he would often walk to the edge of the stage, his arms spread wide in a "How am I doing?" position that would immediately send the crowd into new fits of adoration.
Meanwhile, the Heartbreakers were acquitting themselves reasonably well, sounding very practiced on the show's mix of hits from the band's past and from their latest record, "Southern Accents." To break up the sameness of the Heartbreakers' music, Petty played two verses from "The Waiting" solo before the rest of the band joined in. Petty has mastered the art of singing without moving his lower jaw; this was heard most easily on the slower ballads.
"Don't Come Around Here No More," the band's latest single, was noteworthy for both its bizarre, Alice-in-Wonderland visual effects and the appearance of Dave Stewart of the Eurythmics on rhythm guitar. Stewart was by far the most colorful person on stage in his red, psychedelic-patterned jacket; otherwise, he added little to the song's performance, although he did manage to ungracefully fall off bassist Howie Epstein's monitor. He later joined the Heartbreakers for their second encore, again with no discernible result.
Backing up the Heartbreakers were three horn players, who danced, moved and gestured in unison to hilarious effect, and two female background vocalists. All five stood on platforms built around the back wings of the stage, which inexplicably had been decorated to look like a Greek temple, complete with stone steps and tall columns.
Late in the concert, several people at the front held up an elaborate "We Love You TP" banner to Petty, and he took it and wrapped it around his shoulders. It was symbolic of the bond between Petty and his fans, the success of Petty's return to his Southern-rock roots and his ability to translate both into a rousing, heartfelt performance.
ReviewMichael Jackson at Irvine: Still Dazzling but Distant
Wednesday November 9, 1988 Chris Willman
The Los Angeles Times
Early Monday night at the Irvine Meadows Amphitheatre, Michael Jackson brought out background singer Sheryl Crow to duet with him on his hit "I Just Can't Stop Loving You." He sang the verses to her. He even halfheartedly tried to indulge in a little Prince-style randy interplay with her.
But when it came time to sing the chorus, Jackson couldn't seem to bring himself to address that title phrase to her.
"I just can't stop loving you ," Jackson sang, turning to us, the audience. And like a jealous lover, we believed it.
Never mind that Jackson no more attempted to connect with the crowd than he did with Crow during this, his first-ever solo Southland appearance. He didn't, in the slightest, and that presented the most glaring void in this physically impressive but emotionally impersonal spectacle.
It's just that we sensed that this child/man--the biggest of today's pop stars--could not possibly love a mere woman--one on one--the way he loves us as a huge, anonymous monolith. A girlfriend might interact with him and give him a few moments of pleasure, but his fans, just by passively being there, make it possible for him to feel comfortable two hours a night in the one place he possibly really feels at home: on stage.
Michael Jackson's social discomfort has been so well-documented--the fake, timid smiles seen at public press conferences and unveilings; the shyness and admitted loneliness in private--that it came almost as a relief to see him so relaxed and exuberant again in concert.
And though he's now in the 14th month of his world tour, it was endearing during the show's third number, "Another Part of Me," to see the look of pure, beatific bliss on Jackson's face as he closed his eyes, spun around, landed on his toes and did all the usual right moves. Jackson really seemed to be still enjoying this--caught up and self-hypnotized in his own private, wonderful world.
That unspoken joy spoke volumes. And if all Jackson did during his 2-hour-plus show was sing and dance alone at center stage, his cup running over with contentment and talent, the crowd might never notice the absence of any attempt at connection.
As it was, too much of this dazzling, overlong, draining, occasionally brilliantly entertaining show was hyped up with production numbers that seemed to come out of somewhere between Las Vegas and Disneyland (Liza meets Siegfried & Roy on the set of "Captain Eo"?), leaving the human element abandoned somewhere around Barstow.
Of the set pieces, "Smooth Criminal" provided the highlight early on, with Jackson surrounded by four male dancers in early gangster attire. This number provided the best choreography of the evening, with the dancers using moves that were occasionally as goonily masculine as they were smoothly executed, with an obvious nod to Fred Astaire and the film noir parody segment of "The Band Wagon."
It soon became apparent, however, that most of the production numbers would reprise the themes and visuals of Jackson's video clips--most of which, of course, are not as new as "Smooth Criminal."
During "Thriller," Michael wore a werewolf mask and his four dancers became zombies. "The Way You Make Me Feel," with background singer Crow strutting her stuff before the eyes of the ogling male dancers, became an ode to leering at women a la the video. "Dirty Diana" had Jackson playing off of heavy-metal guitar soloist Jennifer Batten, who, with her mane of wild blond hair, had even been made to look like the video's Steve Stevens. And so on.
Michael, are you still in there? Did that last magic trick swallow you up and spit out a video hologram? Come out, come out, wherever you are!
And, as if he heard us calling, suddenly the dancers and props disappeared, and there was "Billie Jean," as electrifying as ever. As often as we've all seen the moonwalk on TV, his first full-scale version of the physics-defying dance step was an event worthy of ticket-selling (and scalping) in itself.
It was those moments that had Jackson alone at center stage, combining the two things he does best, that were revelations--not emotional revelations, certainly, but nonetheless the kind of intensely personal expression that can't be designed by Disney and turned on by remote control at 5-minute intervals.
Jackson's three-night Irvine Meadows stint continues through tonight, followed by six shows Sunday through Tuesday and Nov. 20-22 at the L.A. Sports Arena. All dates are sold out
ReviewPetty, cool customer of rock, warms up for Summit stand
By Marty Racine
Houston Chronicle - Monday, July 8, 1985
The man in black and red was again cool as ice but he never sounded hotter.
Tom Petty, buoyed by being down in Dixie on his "Southern Accents "tour, took enough inspiration from a cheering "Texas" crowd of 12,000 Sunday night at The Summit to finally get loose like he'd always threatened but never allowed in all the other shows I've seen him perform.
The Florida native liked this rebel yell. And he responded by melting that cool demeaner which throughout his career has distanced his brand of songwriter rock 'n' roll from the emotion you'll receive from, say, Springsteen or Seger.
He and longtime band the Heartbreakers integrated "Southern Accents" conservatively within the set, starting out with such older material as "American Girl, You Got Lucky" and "Don't Do Me Like That" before talking Dixie.
About four or five songs in, after shedding his black topcoat with a Dixie flag for a liner and when the "nerves had worn off" - Houston and Dallas are among a few select cities across the country which actually make a performer of this caliber nervous with anticipation - Petty announced that, now, "anything can happen." He was at ease as I'd never seen him. (His previous show here was a full two years ago, and, unbeknown to the audience, he was suffering from a severe toothache.)
Augmented by the Soul Lips, his three-piece horn section, and the Rebellettes - Carroll Sue Hill and Pat Peterson - the Heartbreakers produced a full sound that coalesced as the evening grew hotter. The pacing was brilliant.
Lead guitarist Mike Campbell played the cool role with proper reserve, but his playing soared; drummer Stan Lynch has a very concise attack, needing little of the animation that most big-rock drummers rely upon. Bassist Howie Epstein, the newest Heartbreaker, doubled on vocal harmony and mandolin; and Benmont Tench, also an in-demand Los Angeles session man, alternated between organ and piano.
But it was this man Petty, a most mysterious figure who grants few interviews and whose career has been - or was - beset by contractual problems with record companies, who commanded the stage in his usual black duds and that patented Rickenbacker guitar.
Oh, he did change guitars on virtually every number, but he along with Peter Townshend has made the Rickenbacker - a difficult guitar to handle - a rock 'n' roll icon which few care or dare employ.
In keeping with that cool Petty image, the set Sunday night was draped in slate-colored vinyl, like marble, and filled with backlit light show that had a Confederate flag drape down as the band went into "Southern Accents" and "Spike", the latter one of his best new songs on which sax man Jimmy Zavalo unleashed a great harmonica solo.
Other hard-edged renditions included "I Need To Know, Change of Heart" and "Refugee," the best song off "Damn The Torpedoes". Petty's voice was strong and pure, and the sound system delivered it all.
Petty clearly was elated at being among Southern accents again, at the reception from this Houston crowd.
It was enough to get the mystery man, the cool customer of rock, warmed up.
ReviewTom Petty's Back, And The Waiting Was Worth It
By Rick Kogan
Chicago Tribune - Monday, June 24, 1985
It doesn't take much courage, just three days into the sunniest season, to declare Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers' Saturday night concert at Poplar Creek the best show of the summer.
But such was the potency and unabashed rock and roll drive of the performance that Saturday night's show could--and should--retain its lofty ranking throughout the summer.
Admittedly, there were some tentative moments. This surely can be attributed to the band's not having toured for two years; only three weeks into this current American swing, there still are a few kinks to work out. It was obvious that the players were still feeling their way around a few of the evening's selections.
But this did little to dim an otherwise striking evening.
Showing no ill effects from the broken hand he suffered eight months ago, Petty played and sang with dominant control. His voice was especially controlled and efficient, more and more Dylanesque but nevertheless distinctive and full of articulate impact.
Abetted by those wizard Heartbreakers--most stunningly lead guitarist Mike Campbell, who had some breathtaking solo excursions--and backed by a four-man horn section and two striking singers and minor percussionists, Petty provided an occasionally captivating and consistently stimulating gathering of his material, leaning most heavily on his current album, "Southern Accents." Indeed, the most effective number of the night was "Don't Come Around Here No More," that paean to psychedelia, which came complete with a nostalgic light show and elicited a sustained and joyful standing ovation.
One of the most interesting things about Petty's music is its ability to communicate on multiple levels--to hard-core rockers and to those looking for a little substance with their sounds. Both crowds turned out in abundance.
And both crowds found special satisfaction in the songs from "Southern Accents," songs able to carry thoughtful and carefully crafted embellishments --horns or background vocals--without damaging the rock and roll core. The total package is most welcome on this sometimes one-note scene.
"It Ain't Nothin' to Me" was particularly appealing. A collaborative effort between Petty and David Stewart of the Eurythmics, its strong rhythm-and-blues feel is at once dangerous and uplifting. Other selections from that determinedly adventurous album--the title song included--provided not only examples of Petty's craftsmanship but his desire to push and expand his talents.
Though "Southern Accents" material dominated the show, Petty included a good number of songs from bygone albums, some of which held up better than others. Though "Listen To Her Heart" was missing its previous razor-sharp teeth, "Don't Do Me Like That" and "The Waiting" were as vigorous as ever, that latter number positively refreshed.
Clearly, Petty and his mates (Benmont Tench on piano and organ, Howie Epstein on bass and Stan Lynch on drums) were grateful for the strong reception they received Saturday night.
This early into the summer and onto the road, it's nice for them to know they are again welcome, to realize they still have exactly what it takes to make rock and roll something memorable.
ReviewTom Petty
By Harry Sumrall
Saturday August 1, 1981 The Washington Post
Tom Petty is a tuxedo in a world of leisure suits, Jamaican coffee in a world of Sanka, a Rolls-Royce convertible in a world of K cars. Not to overstate the matter, but Tom Petty has class.
Last night, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers curled a few acoustic tiles at the Merriweather Post Pavilion with a performance that was loud, raw, smooth, polished and brought off with style and panache. In short, a near perfect rock 'n' roll show.
Like many artists of the early '80s (George Lucas also springs to mind), Petty is aderivative creator -- he takes the devices of an earlier era (in this case '60s rock in all its guises) and adds his own personal touches. The result is music that is at once old and new, nostalgic yet fresh and surprising.
Backed by the Heartbreakers, a sturdy and sensitive group, Petty mixed R&B, folk rock and ybritish blues with a vaguely new-wavish approach.His vocals and stage manner were drawn from various musicians -- Dylan, James Brown, Roger Daltry, Ray Charles (to name but a few) -- yet somehow the end product seemed to be Petty himself. Likewise, his own songs and the classics that he also featured were welded together into a seamless whole -- songs such as "I need to Know" mixed quite comfortably with "Hit the Road, Jack."
He opened his encore with the first notes of "It's Alright," the number the Stones used for their finale in 1965. A nice touch to a very, very nice concert.