Published on Jan 6, 2005
By 1989, Quiet Riot was a band that was barely treading water.
They had undergone the stigma of having lead singer Kevin DuBrow
badmouth anyone within shouting range to the point that his actions
were hurting the band — leading to his unceremonious firing. With
only two remaining members — guitarist Carlos Cavazo and drummer
Frankie Banali — from their glory days, Quiet Riot had two
choices: try and salvage their career, or call it a day.
Bravely, they soldiered on, adding bassist Sean McNabb and Rough
Cutt vocalist Paul Shortino to the lineup and recording one
poorly-received self-titled disc. That lineup, though, did try
their best to make a name for themselves, as evidenced on the home
video
’89 Live In Japan.
Two things immediately jump out at the viewer with this set.
First, while Shortino has a good set of pipes on him, he was not
cut out to attempt the high-pitched whines that were DuBrow’s vocal
trademark. This is probably the reason why this set is light on
selections from the DuBrow era of the band, featuring a whopping
three selections. (From the outro, it does sound like the group
played more, as you hear “Mama, We’re All Crazee Now” — one
wonders why the whole show isn’t included.) Second, Shortino was
not the right person for the band. Nothing against him, but with
Shortino fronting the band oozing Robert Plant-like sexuality,
Quiet Riot almost seems like they’ve turned into a second-rate
Whitesnake.
Need proof? Listen to Shortino go through the motions on “Stay
With Me Tonight,” the single from Quiet Riot (and also featured
with the video shot for the single). Shortino seems to have taken
every move directly from David Coverdale, who in turn snatched them
from Plant. It’s not a good fit, especially when one thinks that
Quiet Riot was not previously noted for doing material such as
this.
This isn’t to say that
’89 Live In Japan is terrible. There are moments on this
video where one can see flashes of potential. “I’m Falling” is a
track which, admittedly, is basic hard rock, but is one that worked
well for the band, and could have been something more than the
afterthought it is today. (Admittedly, I’ve never heard the Quiet
Riot album, so this is a gut feeling.) Likewise, both the band and
the crowd seem to come alive when “The Wild And The Young” and “Cum
On Feel The Noise” kick in — the former possibly being one of the
band’s underrated numbers. “The Joker” is also a highlight of this
set, capped off by a brief — edited? — drum solo by Banali.
One can argue that Quiet Riot should have called it a day when
they stranded DuBrow in a hotel and left for home, or at least
continued under a different name. But one also can’t blame the
group for trying to undo some of the damage caused by their former
bandmate, and ’89 Live In Japan showcases a group determined to
keep fighting, despite the circumstances. Maybe, had they selected
a vocalist who fit their style a little better, they could have
succeeded — and I’m not laying total blame at Shortino’s feet,
either. But while this DVD is by no means a showcase of a band’s
funeral, it also isn’t the picture of a phoenix rising from the
ashes.