login / register
Neither is destroying a white guy's life with unprovable accusations. That's the point here.
Welcome to Ubersite!

Donovan's No Doubt Review

Submitted by ryandonovan at 2000-08-23 13:54:41 EDT
Rating: 2.0 on 3 ratings (3 reviews) (Review this item) (V)

DONOVAN’S NO DOUBT CONCERT REVIEW

I always thought “Don’t Speak” was a great message to send to women. Wouldn’t life be much better if girls followed that advice? It would make my life a whole lot simpler. And then there was “I’m Just A Girl.” Again, not a bad message on the surface. Yeah, bitch, you’re just a girl, and you’ll never amount to anything. But then I actually listened to the songs. The real messages weren’t quite what I thought. In fact, they were somewhat empowering for women. So that basically turned me off of No Doubt.

It’s safe to say that I was never a huge No Doubt fan, especially when their first album, Tragic Kingdom, came out. But I saw them in concert four years ago, because they opened for Bush, and they put on an incredible live show. The music sounded great, the band was rockin’, and Gwen Stefani was absolutely mesmerizing. After that show, I respected them, but I didn’t love them. Even now, I’m not a superfan. If one of their songs comes on the radio, there’s a good chance I’ll change the station. But when I heard they were coming to Chicago at the Aragon, I didn’t want to pass up the chance to see them rock out live again.

They did not disappoint. Well, more precisely, Gwen didn’t disappoint. I apologize, mates, but she IS the band. Are there other members? Sorry, but I didn’t really notice. She was beyond exceptional; her mere presence put electricity in the air. And her voice sent shockwaves through the floor and palpitations through every male’s heart. She was especially dynamite during “I’m Just A Girl,” where she flaunted her high-pitched cooing vocals, “am-I-innocent?” half-dollar eyes, and god-blessed pouty mouth. Just about every female in the audience felt ignored by their dates at that point.

I’m not exactly sure what it is about Gwen that is so alluring. She is too skinny, wears retarded makeup, sports pink cotton-candy hair, and has very small breasts. But she’s a rock star. There aren’t a whole lot of hot female rock stars. We don’t care if she has a massive drug problem, or if she suffers from psychotic depression, or if she has been thoroughly bagged out by Gavin Rossdale. She is sexy. Even when she sweats profusely onstage, she is dazzling. During the show, after she had worked up enough sweat to soak her pants, she turned around, leaned over, and asked the masses, “Is my ass all sweaty?” Never have I heard a crowd cheer so wildly in favor of perspiration. Sweaty Stefani. Total sex appeal.

As for the rest of the band, I can’t say that I paid much attention. Adrian Young, the drummer and winner of the D.B. Sweeney Lookalike Contest, was naked but for a sock and a string. Not a big fan. Bassist Tony Kanal wore his “Look at me, I’m in a band, I’m a stud” expression constantly, hoping to catch the eyes of some of the pre-teen male fans. He was apparently assuming that people were there to see him, not Gwen. Tony, you might want to steer clear of anything that involves facing reality. And then the last guy, guitarist Tom Dumont… who the hell knows? He was on the other side of the stage. Didn’t see him. Didn’t even know he was there.

A pleasant surprise was the fact that Lit was one of the opening acts. In a musically bipolar world of cumulus cloud fluff and razor rage, Lit is one of the few talented bands that rocks the way nature intended. They are especially refreshing, considering folk heroes like the Smashing Pumpkins are wimping out and packing it in because, according to Billy Corgan, they “just can’t go on fighting the good fight against the Britneys of the world.” Lit was pretty rockin’, but in an effort to get the house on fire, they cranked so much distortion and feedback that you could hardly recognize the songs, let alone hear the lyrics. Maybe I’m just old. Perhaps the biggest highlight of their set was a great rendition of “Miserable”, a song I unofficially dedicate to every female I’ve ever known in my life.

The evening culminated with No Doubt’s “Spiderwebs”, where they were joined onstage by Lit and the other opening band, Black Eyed Peas (who was, in a word, forgettable). It was an excellent, eruptive way to end the show. Lights a-blazing, guitars pumping, stage rollicking, drums thundering, lyrics searing, Gwen glistening, crowd jumping. For some absurd reason, my friends and I had pushed our way to the 12th row with all the high school stoners and munchkin pseudo-ska-punks, and I ended up injuring my knee jumping up and down so much. Pretty sad, I know, but it just proves that No Doubt puts on a brilliant show that brings together people of all ages, anywhere from teenagers to old farts in their mid-twenties.




Review This Item

Rating:

Comment:




Reviews


Submitted by Random Joe at 2004-10-28 01:33:07 EDT (#)
Rating: 0

Your review was worth reading simply because it pissed me off and I thouroughly enjoy being pissed off. Are you gay? You sound like it.

Submitted by drink_DDT at 2003-05-04 04:41:15 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

I saw Lit and No Doubt. No Doubt was good and Gwen spit water on me. Lit sucks.

Submitted by streetpunk at 2002-11-22 12:12:45 EST (#)
Rating: 2

I gave you a two because Gwen is the star of many of my masterbatory fantasies.


Merchant:
Sir, I must strongly advise you, do not purchase this. Behind
every wish lurks grave misfortune. I, myself, was one
president of Algeria.

Homer: C'mon, pal, I don't want to hear your life story! Paw me.

Treehouse of Horror II