Published on Aug 8, 2001
There are so many stories any concert-goer can tell about seeing
a band live, being inspired to pick up their latest album, and
discovering the band sounds better live than they do in the studio.
That’s the curse of rock and roll; more often than not, it’s a
living, breathing creature that you have to experience in the flesh
in order to understand the magic surrounding it.
I’ve been fortunate to catch Enuff Z’Nuff live one time, in the
intimacy of a small club in Mundelein, Illinois. (As much as I wish
nothing but the best and greatest success for Chip Z’Nuff and crew,
there’s something to be said for seeing such a band so close up
that they almost sweat on you.) While I’ve more often than not
liked – oh, hell,
loved – what Enuff Z’Nuff have created in the studio, there
is something about their live show that makes you forget everything
you heard on the record and just crave more from the stage.
Live is the kind of album that the diehard fans were
probably desparately jonesing for… and while it’s got some great
stuff on it,
Live doesn’t quite capture Enuff Z’Nuff’s on-stage magic as
people probably hoped for. Then again, something like that can’t be
bottled (or, in this case, pressed into aluminum and plastic).
The biggest complaint anyone can have about this album is the
track selection – namely, as hard as the band tries, they’re gonna
piss someone off by not including this song or that one. (My
personal gripe? Where’s “Stoned” from
Tweaked? Killer fuckin’ live song, man. I know first-hand.)
But these kinds of complaints have to be taken with a grain of
salt. Hell, Donnie Vie and crew could have recorded a triple-disc
set, and someone would still be pitching a fit. Oh, well.
Selection-wise,
Live isn’t half bad, pulling the well-known tracks (“New
Thing,” “Fly High Michelle”) in with the songs that the long-time
fans will be drooling over (“Indian Angel,” “Baby Loves You,”
“Social Disease”). The band even pays tribute to a strip club,
Clown’s Lounge, that I remember guys in the dorm talking about on
“In The Groove”. (Honestly, I never went there… only because I
never was invited. Thanks, guys… and remember, you all now have
wives, and I can name names. Bribes graciously accepted.)
If there’s any tragic flaw to
Live, it’s that the listener often feels like they’re just
watching the wonderful madness unfold, and they never feel part of
it. This is as much a limit of live albums in general as it is the
shows these recordings were culled from. It almost feels like Enuff
Z’Nuff was captured in mid-sized venues banging out the songs –
and, as admitted before, they really sound at home in the bars,
where the music is delivered one-to-one. Had this been recorded at
a place like The Shack instead of House Of Blues, I tend to think
the groove would be so incredibly hard it would smash through your
living room wall.
One studio track, “Bring It On Home” (from the movie
Jerry Maguire – hey, I finally have another reason to sit
through that two-and-a-half-hour snoozefest!), is a strong effort
from Z’Nuff and the boys, even if it’s not quite their “A”-list
material. (I’ve heard every commercial release from Enuff Z’Nuff,
and I consider Chip Z’Nuff to be a friend, so forgive me if I set
the bar for this band a little higher in terms of my personal
expectations.) Did it belong on the soundtrack and not buried in
the end credits? Yes on both counts.
Live is the kind of album you pick up to get an idea of what
Enuff Z’Nuff is like on stage when they’re not playing in your neck
of the woods, or you can’t wait for them to come back home to
musically kick your ass. It’s not quite up to the real thing, but
it’s not a bad alternative.