There weren’t too many sharp dressed men at the Beacon Theatre for the ZZ Top show. In fact, during “Sharp Dressed Man,” a round middle-aged man in torn jeans that had seen better decades, waddled down the stairs to his seat, butt crack in full view. This was a disturbing pattern. Before the show even started, another heavyset middle-aged guy who’d been a few rows ahead, constantly stood up and down, crack exposed, to let people get to their seats. When ZZ Top says they’re “lookin’ for some tush,” presumably this isn’t what they have in mind.
But before “that little ol’ band from Texas” took the stage, Austin Hanks from Rattlesnake Mountain, Alabama and his impressive band won over the notoriously tough New York “classic rock” crowd, whose default setting is often indifference and impatience towards the unfamiliar. Everyone seemed to appreciate that Hanks and guitarist Brian Simpson made a formidable guitar duo. Like many of us axe fanatics who were children of the ‘70s and ‘80s, Hanks worshiped Ace Frehley and current tourmate Billy Gibbons. As good as he was though, Hanks left the heavy lifting to Simpson. His howling Americana slide guitar combined David Lindley’s poetic, elegiacal work with Jackson Browne and the bloodthirsty screams of a jackal.
Songs like “Take Out The Trash” were ideal music for ducking flying beer glasses, reminiscent of acts from the MTV era that had a rural, rockabilly/blues/country/honky tonk sound and image inspired by the early years of rock’n’roll. Examples include X, The Georgia Satellites, Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble, Social Distortion, The Blasters, George Thorogood & The Destroyers, The Fabulous Thunderbirds, Stray Cats, and of course, ZZ Top. The power trio brought the potent force of hard rock, occasional droning minimalist New Wave keyboards, synchronized dance moves, and grooves that could border on disco to this mix.
In between sets, a guy wearing a Killing Joke t-shirt had passed by, the shirt serving as a reminder of how the line between the modern world and Killing Joke’s oeuvre (best described by drummer Paul Ferguson as “The sound of the earth vomiting”) was getting thinner by the day. Specifically, songs like “Tension,” “Follow the Leaders,” “Twilight of the Mortal,” and perhaps best of all, “Madness,” with the wretchedly relevant line, “If this is today – well what the fuck’s tomorrow?” Good question, but one I didn’t particularly want to focus on at that moment. It was time to enjoy men pushing 70 with prospector beards sing about a variety of topics, ranging from “Tush,” Legs,” and “Cheap Sunglasses.”
“Got Me Under Pressure” made you feel like you were riding 100 mph on an endless, sun-drenched, Paris, Texas desert highway, an ideal song to start the show. It was from Eliminator, which along with Michael Jackson’s Thriller, was a beloved, inescapable record in ’83 and ’84. Even Hardcore Punk legends Black Flag were obsessed with the album. In Steven Blush’s 2010 book American Hardcore: A Tribal History, Henry Rollins said, “That was our soundtrack for 1984. I think we wore out that cassette three times. We played it before every gig, and we played it in the van all the time. It was our wake-up-and-drive tape.” They would’ve felt right at home at the Beacon.
Humor is a big part of ZZ Top’s appeal, and sometimes it comes out unintentionally. During “Got Me Under Pressure,” Gibbons sang the chorus in his usual low-pitched, lascivious growl, and bassist Dusty Hill would repeat it in a much higher-pitched “Grandpa” voice, making for an amusing contrast. Next up were the first two songs from their 1973 masterwork Tres Hombres, “Waitin’ for the Bus” and “Jesus Just Left Chicago.” The former showcased Top’s propensity for memorable monster grooves, while the latter had Gibbons conjuring up rattling skeletons from his stuttering Gibson SG. He also included a snippet of the “James Bond Theme” at the end.
“Gimme All Your Lovin’ featured some unique guitar noises as well, especially the lustful, rapid rumble after the first line, “I got to have a shot.” When I was 9, this was one of the greatest sounds I’d ever heard. At 43, that’s still the case. And the vocal harmonies on “Gimme All Your Lovin’” highlighted the cactus soul of Hill and Gibbons, with their distinctive high-low dynamic.
Unfortunately, drummer Frank Beard tends to be known primarily as “the guy in ZZ Top who doesn’t have a beard.” But he’s the unsung hero of the band, the main reason why the word “grooves” has been used a few times in this post. The foundation he supplies allows them to stretch and be somewhat unclassifiable. “I’m Bad, I’m Nationwide” and “Cheap Sunglasses,” both from 1979’s Degüello, were perhaps the evening’s best illustrations, as you can picture these songs in settings as varied as discotheques, blues clubs, and roadhouses. In particular, “Cheap Sunglasses,” an urban neon sign in sonic form, sounded extraordinary at the hallowed Beacon; metropolitan hillbilly horndog noir as only ZZ Top can do. It was Ash Wednesday, and a few middle-aged women with ash crosses on their heads were getting down in the aisles, displaying devotion in a completely different house of worship.
As ZZ Top’s secret weapon snuck and lit a cigarette from behind the drums, Gibbons played blues licks that eventually evolved into “Catfish Blues” by the obscure bluesman Robert Petway. Muddy Waters, Rory Gallagher, and Jimi Hendrix have also covered it — intimidating company. Good thing Gibbons is one of the world’s greatest guitarists, which allowed the band to take on Hendrix’s “Foxy Lady” as well. Hendrix had been a friend and early champion of Gibbons, who did his mentor proud with a faithful version, right down to the psychedelic vibrato/feedback opening, sounding like the start of the end of the world. The more recent “Chartreuse” ended with Gibbons experimenting with feedback towards the edge of the stage, looking like a scarecrow rabbi praying to the guitar gods.
For “Legs,” they brought out the iconic fur-covered guitars made famous in the video, and brought back memories of going to Long Island’s Hot Skates in the ‘80s. After a short break, “La Grange” began the encore, with Gibbons’ guitar and voice in a heated competition of what could sound seedier. Impossible decision, but the audience were the clear victors, shouting along with Gibbons and Hill during the brief pause in the song, “HELL YEAH!” In the middle of the “La Grange”/”Tush” jam, ZZ Top did a fragment of the obscure “Bar-B-Q,” from 1972’s Rio Grande Mud. A few more deep cuts like “El Diablo,” “Ten Foot Pole,” and “Backdoor Love Affair” would’ve been welcome. And no, Spinal Tap didn’t come up with those titles.
Gibbons then launched into the riff that’s powered countless road trips across America, and expresses libidinous benediction as much as the lyrics. Hill’s rebel yell and Gibbons’ blazing slide guitar on “Tush” proved that after four decades of performing this song, they still treat the subject matter with the utmost seriousness, topped off with a wink.
As the show reached its conclusion, a small dog excitedly ran across the stage, with that “Hey you guys!” look most canines have. One would be hard-pressed to argue with its enthusiasm.
Matt Leinwohl