Music / Reviews
Review: Steel Panther, O2 Academy
“The first thing you notice about me is that I’m really small. The second thing you notice about me is that I have a really big voice. WHAT’S YOUR FUCKING EXCUSE?!”
It must be rather odd being recruited as a Steel Panther support act. Here we are to be entertained by the comedy sexism and singalong metal and up pops somebody who expects us to take them seriously. According to my well-informed mate Mr. Wikipedia, Kelsey Karter is best known for a stunt in which she allegedly tattooed a picture of Harry Styles on her face. Classy, huh?
is needed now More than ever
With her band The Heroines (a bunch of hairy blokes), she pursues a rockin’ direction, with a bit of gospel and Motown dropped in. Steel Panther frontman Michael Starr pops out from backstage to film her perform a stripped-down cover of Bonnie Tyler’s Holding Out for a Hero, but most of the set is lost in audience chatter.
As is traditional, the long wait for the headliner is filled with 80s metal classics (great to hear Autograph’s Turn Up the Radio again) before they arrive with Eyes of a Panther – probably the only song of theirs that could be played on the radio without attracting the ire of the Complaining Classes – whinging wokeys and social conservatives alike.
There’s no lavish stage show – just a couple of pole dancers cavorting on either side of the stage, since Steel Panther clearly need something to remind them of home. Interestingly, the setlist is mostly drawn from their first three albums, with Feel the Steel dominating as usual. That’s just fine by this audience, which is in the mood for a jolly singalong to this likes of Asian Hooker and Girl From Oklahoma in the sweltering heat.
The advantage of doing this for so long is that the members of Steel Panther have had time to work on their characters. Guitarist Satchel is tetchy and rude, Michael Starr is leering and, allegedly, very old (he’s 61), drummer Stix has a remarkable ability to catch hats thrown onto his sticks. But new-ish recruit bassist Spyder has yet to establish a personality to match that of his preening predecessor, Lexxi.
Another challenge of doing this for so long is that many of your heroes will fall off their perches. 1987 provides an opportunity to pay tribute to them, from Ozzy downwards, though the rather premature inclusion of Vince Neil of Motley Crue is justified by reference to “the old Vince Neil”. Similarly, the lameass acts lampooned in Death to All But Metal are largely forgotten today, so the references will be lost on younger members of the audience.
Newie The Mother’s Day Song (“I’m gonna fuck your mom tonight . . .” Don’t worry – it gets worse) is a splendid ‘60s Beatlesy pastiche, with a modern metal guitar solo, which has everyone singing along and bodes well for the next album.
As is traditional, there are plenty of opportunities for audience participation. Assuming you’re a game lady, of course. One young woman is plucked from the audience to be serenaded obscenely by the leering Panthers and, as usual, there’s a female stage invasion for 17 Girls on a Row. Yes, it’s pantomime, but panto relies upon such predictability for its fun.
The musicianship is, as usual, impeccable, right down to Satchel’s authentically superfluous guitar solo. These guys could hold their own against any contemporary metal band.
Encore time brings the touching, Extreme-esque power ballad Community Property and the evergreen Gloryhole, which can be charitably read as a moving plea for inclusivity (“I don’t wanna know/Who’s sucking my cock tonight/I’m going to the glory hole/Gonna fuck it with all my might”). Same place in a couple of years’ time for the 20th anniversary tour, then?
All pix by Mike Evans
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