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Full House Live ReviewCrash-bam-boom! This is the musical equivalent of a 4th of July fireworks display by one of the hottest groups ever to soar onstage, and one of the most ferocious shows of its time. If crackling energy is what you need and explosive rock 'n roll is your medicine, this band was made to order. Recorded live in 1972 at Detroit's Cinderella Ballroom on two steamy nights, the place jumped like a pogo stick with mad springs as Peter Wolf lived up to his name and yowled, yelled, screeched, and bawled alongside his five locomotive bandmates.This Boston-based band plays like they are trying to sprint a marathon, and it's absolutely magnificent to hear these guys work out their love for R&B smokers. "First I Look at the Purse" leaps with claws outstretched as the band takes no prisoners at the opening signal onslaught of Stephen Jo. Bladd's rollercoaster drumming, and Seth Justman whips up a thunderstorm on shrieking organ. However, they just toy with your excitement, because Magic Dick jumps in (yes, that's his name) to kick down the door and demolishes the place with raging harmonica. Crunching mega-ton choruses pound away as Wolf hammers relentlessly on vocals, and without a moment's hesitation, they zoom straight into Otis Rush's "Homework". I've heard Peter Green's Fleetwood Mac do this, but not this volatile, and this is definitely street-wise schooling from the rough end of town that can't be found on any diploma. Wolf and Dick pair off like two angry cats, J. Geils throws some darts with quick guitar licks, and Justman spraypaints clouds again on organ. Hot, hot, hot!
All Peter Wolf needs is to hear the audience goading him on, and he gives it right back, tantalizing them: "This is called 'Take Out Your False Teeth, Momma-I wanna Suck on Your Gums!'" Justman bangs out piano boogie like Jerry Lee Lewis and races ahead of everyone as "Pack Fair and Square" hoots and squeals. Do these guys ever come up for air? It's not possible, especially when Wolf is feeling his adrenalin rushes, jabbering on the edge of pure gibberish to signal Dick's virtuoso special, Juke Joint Jimmy's "Whammer Jammer." The audience immediately picks up on the coming storm with handclaps-a hip black gal beckons "Come on!" to get everyone into the mix, and what follows is a kaleidoscopic squall by the man "on the lickin' stick." The rhythm section is towed along like a gamefish running the line with the hook and bait, and everyone grinds to a finish when they bring the ending onboard. What a fight! No time to look back: here comes more boogie, as "Hard Drivin' Man" is in town and there's no brake pedal on this machine. Justman dances wildly on piano as Wolf cavorts behind the mic, and J. Geils struts on guitar behind Danny Klein's bass and Bladd's threshing percussion. Wolf lashes the crowd for yet-more momentum, and the only thing that can stop them now is a brick wall.
They have that looming dead ahead, and it's the size of a mountain: John Lee Hooker's "Serves You Right To Suffer". Ghostly, dark organ rises and falls like a spectre in the gloom as Wolf begs for mercy, and Bladd and Klein are framed against Dick and Justman's Chicago-style moaning and wailing, mocked by guitar. There's room for one more, and Geils comes in with a banshee solo that batters anything and anyone left standing. However, this band believes in redemption-they're already "Cruisin' for a Love," and Dick's cheerful harp whoops provide forgiveness, followed by an exuberant Geils. Stand back-the prey is in sight, and like a pack of wild dogs, they give chase in a classic Canned Heat groove. The winner-and they are all first-place champs-is Stephen Bladd, because he runs away with "Looking for a Love" as his partners carry him off on their shoulders. Imagine a team of football players doing acrobatics on the high wire and trapeze while playing some monsoon-style rock 'n roll, and that's how this show ends. It's all muscle and power, and they come back for a raging finale-twice!
These guys were the late Bill Graham's real favorite band at the Fillmore East-it's right there in his autobiography. When a band plays like they've got nitroglycerine in their veins and it's about to blow, then there's no doubting that this must have been one helluva show. By the way, I can vouch for them: I saw-honest-U2 open their show in 1982 in Phoenix, AZ. They owned the town that night-just give them the keys to the city and let the music run away with your ears and backbone. You'll have the nail your furniture to the floor before you finish this CD, but it's worth every minute of the show. Awwoooooooo!!!Full House Live Overview
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