Review of Quo Cardiff Castle
Apr 8, 2016 16:50:42 GMT
Whoppa Choppa, Quoincidence, and 3 more like this
Post by Railroad17 on Apr 8, 2016 16:50:42 GMT
This was written by Mick Farren in the NME...sounds like he got it!
It's Quo time. From the reverberations of enthusiasm in the crowd, it's quite obvious that they're the band that the majority of people have come to see.
Status Quo must be the most solid, workmanlike crowd pleasers working in this country today. They're unmistakenly beer-and-fags British. They are obviously aware of their limitations, and they are quite clear that the people have come to hear nothing more than their hallmarked overdrive R&B – and they don't disappoint them.
Within their very limited terms of reference, Quo are brilliant. Their sound is their product and they undoubtedly give value for money.
The sun has gone and the darkness is starting to close in. For the first time, the stage lights come on. Rossi stomps and roams the stage while the others fall into the bending, head bobbing stance that has become their trademark.
I take a walk out in the audience. The crush at the front is frenziedly echoing the move. They are obviously getting exactly what they want.
As I watch I realise that Quo are pretty much the Charles Bronsons of British rock. They have the horny-handed expertise of artists who don't aspire to anything more than entertaining their audience. Bronson will never play Hamlet and Quo will probably never produce a Sgt. Pepper. Both however, know their market and stick to it.
Just before it becomes totally dark, Chalkie and I climb the old tower of the castle. Looking out from the 600 year-old battlements we see that stage surrounded by a bobbing sea of people. Oddly enough it all fits together: very logical and Very British.
It's Quo time. From the reverberations of enthusiasm in the crowd, it's quite obvious that they're the band that the majority of people have come to see.
Status Quo must be the most solid, workmanlike crowd pleasers working in this country today. They're unmistakenly beer-and-fags British. They are obviously aware of their limitations, and they are quite clear that the people have come to hear nothing more than their hallmarked overdrive R&B – and they don't disappoint them.
Within their very limited terms of reference, Quo are brilliant. Their sound is their product and they undoubtedly give value for money.
The sun has gone and the darkness is starting to close in. For the first time, the stage lights come on. Rossi stomps and roams the stage while the others fall into the bending, head bobbing stance that has become their trademark.
I take a walk out in the audience. The crush at the front is frenziedly echoing the move. They are obviously getting exactly what they want.
As I watch I realise that Quo are pretty much the Charles Bronsons of British rock. They have the horny-handed expertise of artists who don't aspire to anything more than entertaining their audience. Bronson will never play Hamlet and Quo will probably never produce a Sgt. Pepper. Both however, know their market and stick to it.
Just before it becomes totally dark, Chalkie and I climb the old tower of the castle. Looking out from the 600 year-old battlements we see that stage surrounded by a bobbing sea of people. Oddly enough it all fits together: very logical and Very British.
