crank

I love to steal this living steam
My head in someone's dream
I'm tired of sleeping
--Crank

Friday night, Rob Dickinson appeared at the Mecury Lounge on Houston Street here in the New York. For friendly purposes, I am simply going to call him "Rob" rather than "Dickinson." I think he'd want it that way.

It was an intimate show, about two hundred people in the Gen X age group, all of us apparently ardent Catherine Wheel fans and curious to see that band's former frontman solo and acoustic. That's right - no backing band and no stacks of Marshall amps. There was only Rob on a stool with his guitar and a harmonica.


This was quite a change of pace for Rob. One of the best concerts I have ever seen was Catherine Wheel at the Fillmore in San Francisco back in the dark ages of 1995, on tour in support of their third album, "Happy Days." I recall that the amps were stacked, but Rob took the stage alone, explained that their drummer was under the weather, and began to perform the song Pain acoustically (foreshadowing, anyone?). I remember I so hoped this wasn't going to be an acoustic set due to the drummer being ill. The band was renowned for their "wall of sound." I wanted that Catherine Wheel thunder. My fears were allayed when the rest of the band came out, with the drummer for the previous act that evening, Belly (remember them?) filling in - he did double duty.

Belly had put on an energetic show. Superconnected is still a damn poignant and fierce tune. And, the opening act that evening was an up and coming singer-songwriter named Jewel. Mallory and I arrived for the tail end of Jewel's set. We wondered if Sean Penn might be there since they were rumored to be dating at the time (a bit of archaic gossip column fodder there for those of you who didn't know or don't remember or don't care). Well, no Sean Penn was out and about in the Fillmore that night. Mal and I liquored up at the bar while Jewel and her yodel finished up on stage.


So the rest of Catherine Wheel (well, with Belly's drummer) took their positions and blasted into the chorus of Pain, amps at full roar. From there the band just crushed. Tanya Donnelly from Belly came out and shared the microphone with Rob for Judy Staring At the Sun. They covered the newer tracks from "Happy Days" (Heal being the highlight), as well as classics, of course, like Black Metallic, Crank, The Nude, I Want to Touch You, and Flower To Hide.

And I know
The sunlight bleaches you
It colours everything you do
And I know
A flower's fading far too soon

Now, here I was, many seasons and a city later, feeling good. And the Catherine Wheel singer/guitarist was back, by himself. Much like me, he had a decidedly different vibe in his life from the time of that staggering Fillmore show. He came out, said hello, took the stool, strummed the guitar, and launched into Heal ("It's how high you are/and the time it takes to heal"). An auspicious start indeed. His voice was pristine, and unlike too many contemporary "singers," it was immediately noticeable that his vocals had rarely, if ever, been tweaked or modulated in the studio. This guy can sing.

And what a stirring set. He interspersed songs from his recent solo album, "Fresh Wine for the Horses" with several timeless Catherine Wheel numbers, as well as one brand new tune called The End of the World. The solo material was perfect for the intimacy of the Mercury Lounge. Intelligent People, Handsome, Oceans, and My Name Is Love (which is, according to Rob, a conversation with the goddess Venus) came across well. I glanced around and people were absorbed in it.

Oh, I say
that my life has changed
in many ways
If your name is love
show me some grace
When everything you know
falls apart when the wind blows
When everything seems so tough
My name is Love

Rob bantered with a loose friendliness and a keen sense of self-deprecation. He gave background on a few of the songs, and threw in a humorous story involving his cousin Bruce Dickinson, the singer for heavy metal band Iron Maiden. The only letdown (and it wasn't even a "letdown," per se) was when he did one song off Catherine Wheel's final release, Wishville. I hoped for Mad Dog, my favorite from that album, but instead it was Ballad of a Running Man - which is groovy, but it's no Mad Dog.

At the close of the set, as expected, he performed Black Metallic. It was a briefly sententious moment for me to finally hear it live again. Much of the audience sang along with Rob ("It's the color of your skin"), including me, but luckily no one could hear me caterwaul and warble over the din of the show. Nah, I ain't much of a vocalist, but that won't stop me.

I think of you when you're sleeping
Of all the secrets that you're keeping
You can't stay all day under the covers
Cause under there you'll discover
It's the colour of your skin

The music opened the heart, attenuated emotion, built into a series of ebullient peaks - imparted a keen sense of momentary catharsis. After one more song, the set ended.

We wormed our way to the restrooms, then outside and onward to another place where the positive spirit Rob Dickinson had instilled continued into the small hours... but that's another story.

It was an inspiring evening.

I'm tired of sleeping.