"Have you ever heard Wolfmother before," I asked my companion as we waited to pass through the Roseland's metal detectors, the only club in this great city where you are frisked and scanned before entry.
"No, but I've heard Sunset Rubdown," she said, still expecting some cutesy indie rock show. Did she not see the hordes of long-haired guys in black metal shirts waiting in line?
We pushed our way through very crowded theater and parked right in front of the speaker. "Do you have earplugs?" When she shook her head, I suggested she head to the bar and buy a pair. Meanwhile, the crowd around me shouted, "Wolfmother! Wolfmother!" over and over again. This was the same week I saw Girls and Neon Indian in concert. Compared to the placid, arms-folded hipsters waiting for those bands and trying their damnedest to betray any anticipation, this Wolfmother crowd's enthusiasm pumped me up to a place where my own anticipation for the concert became palpable.
The biggest, recent Wolfmother news, besides the release of sophomore album Cosmic Egg, is that only frontman and principle songwriter Andrew Stockdale remained from the band's first incarnation. But three years have passed since that first album combined a little Zeppelin with a lot of Sabbath. Also, this wasn't some wry, tongue-in-cheek meta band. Nope, Wolfmother is dead serious about their influences.
Stockdale, who reminds me of an Australian version of Carrot Top, and his band burst onto the stage for a rousing rendition of first album opener "Dimension." As the band shredded guitar licks and propulsive drums, Stockdale sang about "purple haze, "angels" and "lightning." It's a big, dumb rock song, but goddamn did the crowd not get into it, pointing and shouting along. Next came two songs: "Cosmic Egg" and "California Queen," which continued the sonic template established on the first record. Stockdale alternated between playing his thunderous SG and leading the crowd in syncopated hand claps.
While Wolfmother killed with new song "New Moon Rising," the crowd went absolutely ape shit for "Woman." "Something is going to happen," Stockdale said in between songs. "Something really amazing is going to happen." He was right. The band launched into "White Unicorn" and all the dude next to us could do was yell, "Fuck yeah!"
Though the crowd did begin to get rough, the center of the floor filled with moshpits and crowd surfers, Stockdale noticed one girl getting smashed up against the barrier in the front. He paused before starting the next song and invited her to watch the show from the safety of the wings. See, loud music isn't all about evil and destruction.
The rest of the set alternated between both albums before ending with new song "In the Castle." The band returned for an encore that consisted of "Vagabond" and a fucking balls-out version of "Joker & the Thief."
I left the Roseland loaded with adrenaline. Wolfmother may be a one-dimensional band, but they do the heavy rock thing well. It was great to spend an evening with them and not worry about some jackass hipster rolling his eyes while I banged my head and held up my devil horns.
by David Harris
