Offenbach, April Wine, Pagliaro: What a show!
Triple bill at the Bell Centre on Friday
This was a grand coming together of local francophone and anglo rock
JUAN RODRIGUEZ SPECIAL TO THE GAZETTE
There was a deep sense of history in the air at the triple bill starring Offenbach,
April Wine and Michel Pagliaro at the Bell Centre on Friday night. This was
a grand coming together of local francophone and anglo rock, born in the 1970s
and still going strong, in a five-hour smorgasbord of sound that more than 7,000
fans reveled in.
Offenbach was celebrating the 25th anniversary (within a night) of its famous
Forum concert as the first Québécois act to headline there. The
day before, they released Nature, their longawaited revisiting of old hits with
new singer Martin Deschamps. Meanwhile, April Wine was on a "35 Years of
Rock" tour, serving up songs that got them known in the United States and
Britain at a time when anglo bands from Montreal had little company doing so.
The evening began with Michel Pagliaro, the king of Quebec rock 'n' roll, who
promptly stole the show in an hourlong set of crafty evergreen songs delivered
with remarkably relaxed vocal dexterity. From J'entends frapper - far and away
the most joyful rock anthem of '70s Quebec - to the mysterious Espion (from
1989), Pagliaro swept us away with power chords executed just so, riffs and
hooks that flowed, and a holler that's as original as any in rock - then and
now. A fine groove guitarist, Pag gleefully played the foil for the pyrotechnics
of Steve Hill, who cast caution to the wind (and taste in favour of colour)
in the non-stop set.
April Wine's ostensibly more intricate pop-rock sound, amped up and updated,
suffered from the cavernous acoustics. Singer-songwriter-guitarist Myles Goodwyn
projected a nononsense air as he treated hits to heavier arrangements, while
leaving the familiar post-Beatles harmonies intact on such time-bound fare as
Just Between You and Me and Coulda Been A Lady. There was plenty of hysterical
high-pitched wah-wah guitar cross-hatching (from Brian Greenway and Goodwyn)
and thudding bass bottom from Jim Clench. They were propelled by bombs from
large drummer Jerry Mercer, forever Monsieur Pop Bombast, 65 years young.
Offenbach's blues-rock came across as a sacrament, a bold loose-limbed swagger
dripping with a monumental church-revival feeling. Their thick, steamy sound
oozed like molasses; the guitars-and-bass tandem of Johnny Gravel, John McGale
and Breen Leboeuf played well in the echoey acoustic. Martin Deschamps is, along
with Eric Lapointe and Garou, from the utterly Québécois school
of throaty guttural popblues holler pioneered by original Offenbach singer Gerry
Boulet (who died in 1990 of cancer). It's the kind of voice ubiquitous in local
beer and truck ads. Deschamps is a unique showman, while injecting a determined
soul to the group's reunion.
By the time they revved into their finale, the defining Caline de Blues, at
1:05 a.m., the crowd was sated by a night of beloved material delivered with
a measure of one-off creativity and, in Pagliaro's case, genius.