Newly reopened and refurbished Commodore deserves better than Thorogood’s stale boogie

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON NOV.25, 1999

By Steve Newton

All I’ve been reading about lately in the local entertainment press is how great the interior of the recently reopened Commodore Ballroom looks after its $3.5-million facelift. Now, I don’t want to spoil the party, but am I the only person out here who couldn’t care less about the venue’s new art-deco touches and upscale refurbishing?

Since my very first visit to the hallowed club, to see Kiss back in ’73, I’ve only been concerned about two things: seeing the band and hearing the band. I suppose drinking beer is up there too. But once I’ve procured a coldie and staked out a spot near the middle of the Commodore dance floor, my attention is totally fixed on the stage. All the rich wood detailing and fancy light fixtures of the currently posh Commodore mean little to me. Maybe if I were taking my parents there for lunch I’d give a damn.

Since my personal priorities for the Commodore are so basic, it made sense that I reacquaint myself with the grande dame of Vancouver rock venues via an artist as unadorned as George Thorogood. Plus, I had the added incentive of wanting to see Edmonton’s Rockin’ Highliners, who were scheduled to warm up.

Unfortunately for me, the promoters of last Friday’s (November 19) show decided to push the openers’ start time back half an hour, so I only got to see them play a couple of tunes. I also made the mistake, upon entering the club, of following the invitingly curvy wooden stairway up to the Commodore’s rear bar, where the sound was badly muffled. I wouldn’t recommend that any music lover sit back there, although the men’s room is handy, and much cleaner and larger than before. Now that’s money well spent.

Before the headliner came on, I splurged on a Corona in celebration of my fave bar’s rebirth, found myself a spot on that trusty maple floor, and waited for that old Commodore magic to return. Gazing fondly at the vacant stage, I started to picture some of the memorable performers I’ve seen up there over the years, folks like Tom Petty, Tina Turner, Johnny Winter, and Stevie Ray Vaughan.

Then George Thorogood came out and reminded me of the forgettable ones.

It’s not that the Delaware boogieman didn’t get the sold-out crowd hopping from the get-go. If you’d been judging the show solely by audience response, you’d have been impressed. But for all his guitar-hero posturings and “God, I’m good!” braggadocio, there’s no denying Thorogood’s steady decline since his early-’80s heyday. Then he was a fireball on stage, possessed by the rowdy spirit of his boogie-blues forebears; now he seems worn down by having to play endless renditions of Bo Diddley’s “Who Do You Love” and John Lee Hooker’s “One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer”.

“I’m gonna do everything I can to get arrested tonight,” declared Thorogood. “If somebody’s gonna go to jail for rock ‘n’ roll, it might as well be me.” Then he knocked off a 12-bar-blues workout that was lame enough to justify tossing him in the clink. Almost as embarrassing was his single from ’93, “Get a Haircut and Get a Real Job”, which he had the gall to play later on.

Fortunately for Thorogood, he’s still backed by the same solid rhythm section–drummer Jeff Simon and bassist Billy Blough–that’s been with him since ’76, and they can still marshall the breakneck boogie beats that his followers are hooked on.

And fortunately for the new operators of the Commodore, the sound on the floor was as clear and sharp as it’s ever been. In that respect, at least, they’ve lived up to the Music First motto that former proprietor Drew Burns ran the place by for nigh on 30 years.