Scott Stapp House of Blues March 29, 2011
We all knew coming into this what would happen. It was going to be a show for the fans, not the smirking cynics. Fair enough.
A Scott Stapp solo acoustic show is what it was billed as, but it was really a quasi-electrified solo Scott Stapp show, with an electric bass. So for the folks following at home, let's just term it as an solo Stapp gig away from Creed.
The fun thing about Stapp is that he is aggressively happy with his material, as he should be, which makes watching him sort of soothing. He's sold 35 million copies with the stuff that he, Mark Tremonti and the gang have concocted now for almost 15 years.
It's a working formula that tugs at his fanbase's heartstrings. Everyone else either flees in terror for their mortal lives, or sticks around to bellow along like we did and shrug off our pretenses.
What? It's fun to sing along to. Aftermath really doesn't think we are in our own prison, and our arms are usually folded or attached to a cellphone rather than wide open. There, it's been admitted. We sang along, but only because it was easy.
Stapp embarked on this solo tour while the rest of Creed went off to record and tour with another lead singer as Alter Bridge, which has to be a kick in the pants to Stapp since Creed only reunited back in the summer of 2009 for a big tour. It's like getting back with your ex-girlfriend and letting her screw the guy she dated while you were broken up as long as you can see other people.
But if it works in the Creed camp, so be it.
The very packed show included a few cuts from his solo album, 2005's The Great Divide, a cover of Alice Cooper's "I'm Eighteen," and most of the banner Creed radio hits that everyone came for. The voraciously- oved Stapp seemed at times uncomfortable sitting in one place onstage on a stool surrounded by two guitarists, a bassist, and a drummer.
His voice may be ready for an acoustic show, but his stage persona sure as hell is not. Here are selections from the Twitter play-by-play for Tuesday night's gig. See the whole thing at @hprocksoff.
8:30 p.m. Look where I am! http://yfrog.com/hs120vtj
8:40 p.m. Seats instead of a "pit" at the Stapp show. For more rapt attention. Or "stappt" attention as it were. Oh and bongos onstage. Sexy times are indeed ahead.
8:45 p.m. Your mom just tried to buy me a beer. It's Tank Top Teaseday!
8:55 p.m. It's weird hearing Stapp's name followed by cheers. I'm not in a Pitchfork courtroom after his conviction on musical murder charges. (token shitty hipster comment)
9:00 p.m. Starting with "Are You Ready?" and he does all the arm shit even sitting down. It's breathtaking.
9:15 p.m. He's the best one-man Creed cover band ever. He's going to break that poor stool. Is it in acoustic show if the bass is electric? Solo album stuff stands well next to the Creed stuff. Seriously. It's not all that different.
9:30 p.m. He's covering Alice Cooper's "I'm Eighteen," because Creed did it for that old soundtrack to The Faculty. First I see Glenn Beck cry live and in person last week and now this.
9:45 p.m. Whassis liefforr? He wants to see your hands in the air. Cahn yoo takeah mah highahr? After every song he has asked to be turned up in the monitor.
10:00 p.m. People slow dancing in the aisles and near the back bar. Take me to a place with golden streams. Oh, he really said "streets." I googled it. Well, there goes that fantasy.
10:07 p.m. If he was crippled from the waist down in an accident, the stage show would survive. He's air swimming. "With Arms Wide Open" is happening.
10:09 p.m. Stapp getting his ever-loving rocks off. Court is in session. The verdict is YESSSEAH in the first degree. http://yfrog.com/gzbdwoij
10:15 p.m. Oh wow, he just doo-wopped/scatted the opening of "My Sacrifice." Massive heartwarming sing-along. Break the stool break the stool, Scott. You know you want to.
10:22 p.m. Someone should make something called a Scott Stipe. Or a Michael Stapp. I would pay top dollar. I mean, "Losing My Religion" could have very well been a Creed song.
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10:30 p.m. Show is over on account of him throwing the stool at me. No really. He didn't throw the stool. Show is just over.
10:40 p.m. The only thing thrown from the stage was a good time. I sang along way too much.