Here is a less-than Fantastic Review of a Creed concert that was sent to me by a fellow warrior in the ongoing battle against Scott Stapp and his Posse. Thank you very much Brian.
Godly slant in lyrics; odd slant in behavior
01/28/02
John Soeder
Plain Dealer Pop Music Critic
Around 9:45 last night, a roar arose from 17,000-plus Creed fans inside Gund Arena. Presumably, the multiplatinum modern-rockers from Tallahassee, Fla., were making their entrance to the tune of "Bullets," a hard-hitting new song.
At least it sounded like "Bullets" from where I was - outside the venue. Let's just say I wasn't exactly welcomed "with arms wide open" at the concert.
It seems the band's camp is still sore about a less-than-glowing notice of Creed's latest album, "Weathered," published last month in these pages.
The review was penned by another writer, not me. Nonetheless, the group's publicist was so upset he tried to bar The Plain Dealer from covering this sold-out show. He refused to give me a ticket, nor would he sell one to me. I've been reviewing concerts nearly 15 years and this was the first time such routine media requests were rejected.
Despite the Christian slant of Creed's lyrics, the group's handlers apparently aren't big on turning the other cheek.
I wasn't about to patronize one of the scalpers who did a brisk business before the gig, asking $100 a pop for nosebleed seats. (Too expensive.) Disguising myself as a delivery boy and attempting to sneak backstage with a deli tray for the band didn't strike me as a viable option, either. (Too Inspector Clouseau.)
In the end, I decided to maintain a respectful distance while trying to do my job. I positioned myself on the west side of the arena with a sophisticated eavesdropping device. OK, I was leaning on the wall with a plastic cup pressed against my ear.
Early on, I heard several muffled explosions - pyrotechnics, perhaps, or maybe lightning bolts from heaven sent to zap the nonbelievers in Creed's congregation. I also thought I could make out a song in which professional Eddie Vedder imitator Scott Stapp, Creed's lead singer, portrayed himself as a "freedom fighter." It would be interesting to find out where he stands on freedom of speech.
"What are you doing?" a security guard eventually asked me.
"Trying to listen to the concert," I replied.
"You're never going to pick up enough vibrations with a cup," the guard said.
He was right. I will say Creed was easier to stomach with several muffling layers of steel and stone between us. At least I didn't suffer from direct exposure to the plodding rhythms of drummer Scott Phillips, the hand-me-down grunge riffs of guitarist Mark Tremonti or Stapp's prosaic lyrics, often steeped in us-against-them paranoia. Previous stops on this tour have found the band focusing on material from "Weathered," which recently spent eight weeks at No. 1 on the Billboard album chart.
I didn't get to see Creed jam. On the bright side, however, I got to split before the post-concert traffic jam.
Contact John Soeder at:
jsoeder@plaind.com, 216-999-4562
