By David Schultz

Halfway into Living Colour's Friday night set at CBGB's, Corey Glover belted out the opening lines to Open Letter (To A Landlord), perfectly encapsulating the populist undercurrent of this month's benefit shows to save the legendary punk club on the lower east side of Manhattan:

Now you can tear a building down
But you can't erase a memory
These houses may look all run down
But they have a value you can't see

The fact that after sharing his feelings with the audience about CBGB's place in his heart, Glover seemingly lost his place in his a capella intro, requiring a musical nudge from guitarist Vernon Reid to move it along, did nothing to diminish the power of the moment.

With its lease expiring at the end of August, CBGB's battle with its landlord, the Bowery Residents Committee, is coming to a head. Although a Manhattan Civil Court Judge dismissed the BRC's claim for back rent, essentially resolving all past issues, it remains to be seen whether a new lease, with a rent CBGB's can afford, can be negotiated. In an effort to raise money to assist in the preservation of the historical club, CBGB's is staging a month long series of benefit shows. With the Talking Heads, Patti Smith and Tom Verlaine notably missing from the announced slate of performances, Living Colour will be the highest profile act to return to their roots and play the club that opened its doors for them many years ago.

Reid gave many short speeches throughout the night. With Glover playfully mocking him, Reid finished each one declaring it would be his last for the evening. Although claiming that the night wasn't about nostalgia, Living Colour tipped their musical hat to CBGB's history, opening with an amped-up cover of the Talking Heads' Memories Can't Wait. In light of the cause being promoted, Collide0scope's Sacred Ground, the hopefully unprophetic Time's Up and the poignant Open Letter (To A Landlord), resounded with more emotion and deeper relevance. Noting that for a period of time in the band's infancy, CBGB's was the only club that would let Living Colour on stage, Reid gave sincere thanks to Hilly Kristal, CBGB's heart and soul, for giving the band one of its first breaks.

At the outset of the show, Corey Glover self-deprecatingly noted that they were too old for this. Aside from the fact that Glover's spandex singlets from the late eighties have been replaced by baggier, less formfitting jumpsuits, nothing could be further from the truth. Living Colour's high-energy, genre-busting rock and roll, which can go from heavy metal to funk on a moment's notice, may have matured but it hasn't lost step over the years. Older songs like Vivid's Middle Man and Glamour Boys as well as Time's Up's Type, now containing a reggae coda, sound as fresh and crisp as they did years ago.

As evidenced by his electrifying and inventive solos on Flying, Open Letter (To A Landlord) and the set-closing Cult Of Personality, Vernon Reid has not relinquished his position as one of rock's most innovative guitar players and remains the highlight of any Living Colour concert. Not to be shown up, bassist Doug Wimbish and drummer Will Calhoun, arguably the most talented drummer playing today, more than hold their own with Reid. Always novel and progressive, Calhoun's extended drum solo, a staple of any Living Colour show, will never be confused with its stereotypical dinosaur-rock predecessors. Anyone mistaking Calhoun's solo spots for the appropriate time to seek out the facilities truly misses out on something special. Normally a duet between Wimbish and Calhoun, Reid remained onstage for Terrorism, a newer song that has become the rhythm section's tour de force. Wimbish, treating his bass like a short-stringed guitar, fronted the band and coaxed notes out of his bass that few others could imagine, much less play.

The fearlessly blunt Terrorism fits right in with in-your-face songs like Funny Vibe, another live staple, that are Living Colour's sine qua non. Inextricably entwining his opinion of George Bush and Tony Blair with the song's undeniably funky bass-heavy groove, Wimbish risks alienating conservative listeners who are unable to separate their political views from their choice of music. But on the other hand, how many Republicans are Living Colour fans anyway?

Just prior to the encore, Reid addressed the notion of transforming CBGB's into a museum or shrine to the music it fostered, offering his opinion that the future of CBGB's is not in reliving its past but in artists pushing music forward and doing new things. Either illustrating or missing his own point, the band finished the evening with their unique interpretation of the Beatles' Tomorrow Never Knows. Featuring Wimbish on the standing bass and peppered with solos from Reid, the extended jam ventured from fuzzy guitar-heavy grunge into the realm of avant-garde jazz.

For those music lovers that haven't been privileged to catch a show at CBGB's, don't be misled that the efforts to save the club are about anything but the history within and the nostalgia it inspires. Typical of your old-school lower east side hangouts, the walls are covered with stickers, flyers and graffiti and the furnishings are sparse, with tables and chairs more appropriate to an elementary school than a Manhattan bar. However, therein lies the charm. No one comes to CBGB's for the décor; they come for the music. Let's hope the music gods are beneficently smiling down upon this old music hall: it would be a shame to lose the next Ramones because there's no place for them to play.

[All images from LivingColour.com]

Labels: Living Colour, Vernon Reid