Guns N' Roses: Live Era '87-'93

Nobody did it better than Gn'R. Axl 'n' Slash, bandana and top hat sweatily askew, deserved critical designation as the Page 'n' Plant of our generation (as Backstreet is to the pubescently female of today, they were to the male middle schoolers of yore). However, Live Era, a little late in coming, is no "The Song Remains the Same."

I'm certainly not denying that the album kicks ass; it makes me want to grow out my jew-fro and add cigarette burns to my Les Paul. It's just that some of the playing is less than phenomenal, which is unbecoming of rock gods.

"Nightrain" and "Mr. Brownstone," Appetite standards, open the show. Duff, Steve, and Izzy give the beat tough love while Slash wails, mostly on uninspired variations of his studio lines. The audience wails as well, at times loudly and distractingly (I understand the desire to present a live sound, but the music suffers from poor mixing). The shrillest sounds, of course, come from that most finicky of voice-boxes. Repressed memories of fourth grade awaken magically to "You're in the jungle, baby! You're gonna diiiieee!"

First disc disappointments include Axl's whistling intonation on "Patience," and three minutes of piano masturbation, as a prelude to "November Rain," that sound distinctly like a Billy Joel cover of Nigel Tufnel's "Lick my Love Pump." The gems of the first disc are "I Used to Love Her," traditionally underrated, and "You're Crazy," on which the band explores its evolution in feel.

The second disc is the better of the two. Slash comes alive with his talk-box on "Rocket Queen," and "You Could Be Mine" and "Don't Cry" carry momentum in stadiums. The ubiquitous Dylan cover, however, as well as the original "Estranged" are spoiled by touring band musicians who must have a union clause to play every chord like a blues progression (sometimes, dudes, you just can't sit on a flat fifth). An extremely ugly studio edit near the end of "Paradise City" clinches it for me: this is good, but the old albums are divine. (Interscope)

—Stuart Rosenberg

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