061990 Mötley Crüe/Tesla, Ottawa, ON

June 19th, 1990 was the second night of a rockin’ double-shot that my Moncton friend Derrick had joined me for in Ottawa; two consecutive evenings of hair-metal at the Civic Centre ending with a Mötley Crüe concert with Tesla opening.

In case the name doesn’t ring a bell, Tesla was a minor player on ’80’s FM radio most notable for their acoustic cover of Signs by hometown Ottawa heroes Five Man Electrical Band.  I’m pretty sure I caught their whole set – showing up late for a concert was out of the question for me at the time – my memory can hear them singing Signs but not much else.

I remember the Crüe much more vividly.  Vince Neil had recently gotten out of jail from his manslaughter charge (I believe it was) and he seemed to be really enjoying his return to the role of rock star.  The band opened fast and furious with Kickstart My Heart and kept the pace all night.  Live Wire was a personal highlight, fan as I am of their first album.

But there is a vision from this concert that will stay with me forever*, just a magical blend of serendipity and timing that gives me chills to this day.  It was during the multi-song encore, Vince Neil was on the riser nearest my seat, stage right.  The band was playing their newest hit Dr. Feelgood, and someone threw a banner on the stage.  Heck, people had been throwing banners onto the stage all night and they had all been universally ignored by the band, but this one landed right at Neil’s feet and he leaned over and picked it up.

I don’t know if he saw the banner before it was thrown at him – he must have – but just at the point in the song where Vince sings the hook and draws it out nice and long, “He’s the one they call…Dr. Feeeeeelgoooood!” the singer reached down and lifted up the banner, unfurling an album-perfect rendering of their title song for all to see: Dr. Feelgood.  To me it was truly the perfect storm of rock and roll, perfect timing and serendipitous showmanship; it gave me chills and it made me scream.

I’ve tried to explain it a hundred times and just like the preceding description I can never come close to explaining how or why it was such a memorable rock and roll moment for me (right up there with my first Tragically Hip show where the crowd rained beer cups on a furious Gord Downie, a rock and roll memory that was still fourteen months away), but it was, and will forever remain so.

I guess you just had to be there.  Thankfully I was.

*Another vivid memory from this show (that somehow feels like it can only be an asterisk story) was when a grand piano appeared onstage – I’m sure courtesy of some sort of hydraulic device – and drummer Tommy Lee played a really impressive classical piano flourish that landed nicely on some Crüe balled (Home Sweet Home probably),  The thing was, he did it all wearing nothing but a leather G-string, over-emoting and dripping a steady stream of rock ’n roll sweat from his lanky mane the whole time.  It was such an over-the-top comical Täp-esque absurdity of music that if I ever meet Mr. Lee in person I’m sure I won’t be able to look him in the eye without laughing.  I’m not really sure if it would be at him or with him, but either way I’m sure I’d laugh in his face.