Thursday, October 23, 1997
Band’s performance at Palace brings back ’40s
MUSIC: Royal Crown Revue puts on great, timeless performance
By Vanessa VanderZanden
Daily Bruin Staff
Once upon a time, rough boys in suspenders curled their
bobby-socked dream dates into their taut arms for a quick tangle on
the dance floor. Above them spun a mystical globe, intent on
bespeckling the walls with a fantastical sheen of starlight.
And, in front of them, all of their hearts’ desire came oozing
out of the twinkling trumpets and tight bass strings of the larger
than life big band, which owned both the stage and the known
world.
This age has arrived again. Last Friday night, the ’40s
swallowed up the Palace when Royal Crown Revue set the crammed
crowd swinging.
However, with barely enough elbow space to hold a Cranberry
Spritzer, many well-preened couples had to twist and turn at the
back, most opting to merely sway up closer to the stage. But nobody
could stand still, as Royal Crown Revue’s music instigated bopping
heads and tapping toes from even the most stiff of audience
members.
Looking like a reincarnation of a dice-throwing street gangster
straight out of "Guys and Dolls," lead singer Eddie Nichols played
his role with husky charm. Wearing huge burnt orange pants
suspendered high above his waist, the burly performer lumbered
around the stage like a circus ringleader, barking to the audience
about the talents of his fellow musicians.
Singing in a strong, grumbly baritone, he belted out notes which
held their own against the explosive brass section and thundering
percussion.
Almost like a group of jazz cronies, the six member band spent
the evening bipping and bopping away on a standard, set melody, one
at a time laying down improvised squeals from their sparkling
instruments.
In keeping with this theme, the highlight of the evening came
when each member individually showcased his talents in a series of
awe-inspiring solos. From the saxophone to the bass saxophone to
the trumpet to the guitar and on to the vocals, all acts produced
awestruck fans, but the most captivating musicianship came through
the drums.
Lights flipping from a bright technicolor daydream to an almost
eerie strobe made drummer Daniel Glass appear like a black and
white character straight from the ancient files of TV Land, banging
out a masterful array of rhythms along with an assortment of
impossible to keep up with beats.
Eventually, these currents of energy merged with the rest of the
band, as the entire group re-appeared on the stage.
Though some moments exposed Royal Crown Revue’s weakness in
catching a chord at the right time or laying down the desired note,
the band never failed for lack of vivacity. Not a single member
apathetically strummed at his guitar or blew out a few haphazard
sounds because of tired, bored lips.
Their zeal caught like a brush fire across the audience of boys
with slicked back hair, adorned in wife-beater shirts, holding zoot
suit jackets and girls with flips or buns in their hair, wearing
heels and trim dresses scored at vintage clothing stores.
The entire scene burgeoned with good, clean fun in a sort of
seedy ’40s way. Timelessly, the Palace seemed suspended in a
parallel dimension all its own, with Royal Crown Revue the keepers
of the dreamworld gates.