Everclear/Marcy Playground/Fastball
Roseland Ballroom, New York, June 4, 1998

Criticize them if you must ("They're derivative"..."They're bland"..."They're too polished" -- pick your complaint), but the current crop of "Modern Rock" hitmakers do offer a fair amount of variety for the attentive fan. Chart-trouncers Everclear, Marcy Playground and Fastball -- touring together on a pre-summer package -- make this strikingly obvious, and this show provided a convenient snapshot of the class of '98 in action.

First to appear were Fastball, purveyors of the ultra-smooth melodic hit "The Way" and proud wearers of natty suits. Not tonight, though. Tonight, Fastball were a trio of true Texans, bleating out beer-soaked rock & roll in grungy T-shirts and unruly sideburns, leaping around the stage like Lynyrd Skynyrd refugees. Even their sound was different -- the expected pop polish giving way to flat-out rock that was loud, muddled and, at times, brutal. The crashing, resigned "Warm Fuzzy Feeling" was made all the more endearing by Tony Scalzo's strident, working-Joe voice. "Fire Escape," on record an easy-going, measured gem, was performed with a bracing headlong momentum. "The Way," however, took Fastball to a more relaxed level, as they played up the song's sun-baked Latin vibe. It was smoother than the rest of the show, certainly, but still redolent of some God-forsaken rock and boogie saloon rather than an alternative radio funhouse. Far from the shrink-wrapped pre-fab pop that Modern Rock too often offers, Fastball put on an honest and powerful show that was more than able to get the crowd grooving.

Marcy Playground, on the other hand, shoot straight for your mind. Playing upon hazy, Alice in Wonderland themes, they attempted to transport the crowd from the mundane dancefloor to a world of opium and flowers. Frontman John Wozniak delivered his lyrics toddling back and forth like an unsteady teddy bear, but his childlike voice lost its eerie fascination without the benefit of studio accouterment. Songs like "The Shadows of Seattle" and "Poppies" seemed to hook the crowd, but the enthusiasm eventually dissipated. Marcy's music is engaging, but it's too sedate and ponderous to maintain excitement. By the time they got to "Sex and Candy," the crowd seemed tired. Though band and audience swayed through the song in a spirit of communal familiarity, the vibe was anything but electric. The absence of lighters in the air was conspicuous.

By the time the headliners appeared, the crowd craved fulfillment. Everclear's Art Alexakis appeared alone, cast in hellish red light, and as he lightly strummed out the chorus to "Santa Monica" the audience tensed up and surged towards the stage. A wave of surf-vocal harmonies heralded the slamming title track to their latest album, So Much For the Afterglow. It was loud, it was exciting and the fans knew every word -- as they did to "Normal Like You," "Amphetamine," and "Father of Mine," a kiss-off from a newly-minted adult to his wayward father. When the band brought things down a notch for the quiet, seething, "Strawberry," the crowd gazed in rapt awe. Ah, there's that lighter. Come encore time, a lucky dozen were invited onto the stage. "You have to promise not to stage dive," Alexakis warned. "If you do, we'll give you a good Portland-style fist beating." The star-struck fans complied eagerly.

Class dismissed.

NOAH TARNOW