I’ve been to a lot of concerts in my life. Some were really bad; others were really good. I’ve also managed to attend the Swedish guitarist’s previous performances in Athens. Finally, since I’ve been following him since the beginning of his career, I knew exactly what to expect from this show. So, somewhere in the middle of the concert, I decided that this was the best worst concert I’ve ever seen. And let me explain.
Those who love Malmsteen – and I’m one of them – know that ever since the guitarist lost touch with reality, his live shows have been practically a barrage of instrumental tracks, along with a few “normal” ones – that is, with a singer, even if they’re heavily edited. That’s what I expected to see, and that’s what I saw.
I arrived at Technopolis around 6 p.m. and immediately heard the distinctive sound of Yngwie’s guitar during the soundcheck. When I returned to the line at 8 p.m., the crowd was truly massive. Considering that the concert took place in the middle of summer while Athenians were still on vacation, that it was the night of the World Cup final, and that the heat had reached record levels, it was truly impressive how many people showed up.
Rivertskull was the first band to take the stage. The Seattle-based band had just 30 minutes to showcase their music. A blend of hard and heavy that balanced between a more classic and modern sound. Their singer (Chad McMurray), who also played keyboards, was powerful. For me, they were a pleasant surprise; they won me over and rightfully earned the crowd’s applause. I wish they could have played a little longer because they deserved it.
In the meantime, I took a look at the merchandise, which was, at best, second-rate. Unless someone wanted to spend 250 euros on a signed copy of “Rising Force”, there were also two really tacky T-shirts. When the opening act has better merchandise than the headliner, something’s wrong.
Yngwie took the stage a few minutes late – about twenty minutes. As I mentioned above, anyone familiar with the guitarist’s performances knew what to expect. The band backing him – heck, if anyone even knows their names – was crammed into the left side of the stage, with the rest of the space reserved for the virtuoso. The familiar wall of Marshalls was in full force.
The set was, roughly speaking, divided into two parts. The first part consisted of the few full songs we heard, such as “Rising Force,” “I See The Light Tonight,” “Like An Angel,” and “Seventh Sign.” All of them were heavily shortened; we didn’t get to hear a single song in its entirety, with the keyboardist and Yngwie himself stepping in to handle the vocals. Neither of them is a singer. As if that weren’t enough, there was also the classic heavy echo that clashed head-on with Radio Blackman. Even so, these songs were absolutely beautiful. Hell, we grew up listening to many of them.
The second part featured Malmsteen’s instrumentals, such as “Black Star” and many others… even those were packed with extra notes in the spirit of “more is more.” There were also a few medleys, as well as a brief nod to “Bohemian Rhapsody.”
Malmsteen’s talent is well known to everyone. The man is the epitome of musical genius, and generations of guitarists treat his playing as their bible. His prime is certainly long past. However, he delivered a satisfying two-hour show, and personally, I wouldn’t have had any problem seeing him again the very next day. Unpredictable and eccentric as he may be, he is one of the last rock stars of his generation.
As I left the concert, I wasn’t disappointed – how could I be, since I knew exactly what I was going to see – but I was left pondering. I thought that if Yngwie draws such a big crowd with this kind of set, how many people would he draw if he had 2–3 singers with him – I’m not talking about big names, but regular singers – and each one played 2-3 songs from their respective eras – then just how big a crowd would he draw? We’ll probably never know.
If Malmsteen comes back, will I go? Of course. Without a second thought. For me, he’s a religion all on his own, and that doesn’t change no matter how eccentric he gets.
Michael Ntalakos
*photos by Dimitris Fatisis
