Judgement Day : Sign of the Apocalypse?

The Driver believes in collecting experiences. Occasionally, this means The Driver goes places / does things that he might not otherwise go / do -- just so that he can say he went / did.
Sometimes, this works (See also : Going to an Elvis impersonating contest = meeting Mrs. Driver). Other times, not so much (See also : watching the film "Two Weeks Notice").

Now for a bit of musical background (not to be confused with background music) on The Driver. According to The Driver's brother, he and The Driver were the original Beavis and Butt-head. From the original air date of a little cable network called MTV -- and for several summers thereafter -- our adolescent rear ends were firmly planted on the couch in front of the TV. For hours at a time, we waited for our favorite videos. And by that, I mean we waited for three videos :

1. Judas Priest : "Heading Out to the Highway"
2. Judas Priest : "Hot Rockin'"
3. Judas Priest : "Don't Go"

[Okay. Certain aspects of technology are pretty cool. YouTube is greatness. You can find and watch an entire summer's worth of Judas Priest videos in a matter of minutes. Sweet.]

The first of these videos enjoyed fairly regular rotation -- airing once or even twice a day. When this happened, general rocking out and air-guitaring ensued.

On the rare occasion of a "Hot Rockin'" sighting, the subsequent rocking out and air-guitaring would increase exponentially -- due to both the relative infrequency of the video being played, and to the song's significantly more head-bob-worthy riffs.

"I wanna go / I wanna go / I wanna go... Hot rockin!'" (Repeat)

Yes.

The latter clip, "Don't Go," was a more down-tempo number with a more surreal (or "conceptual") story line. But the fact that it might air only once or twice in an entire summer kept us glued to the set in rapt anticipation.

True to the characters we probably didn't actually inspire, we spent our time in between Priest songs reviewing the "other" videos. Most of them "sucked in ways that have never sucked before." Especially anything non-metal.

And especially hair metal.

And that brings us to the subject of this weekend's experience.

Mrs. Driver works with a gentleman who plays drums in a band called "Judgement Day." They are a tribute band for the hugely popular 80s group Whitesnake.

At the drummer's urging, we agreed to "check out" Judgement Day... sometime. After several well-meaning attempts were thwarted, we marked our calendars for Saturday, June 7th.

As it turns out, the 7th was a big night for The Driver family. The Driver was for some reason recognized at a fancy awards show thingy for (get this) his writing. From there, it was off to the Lakewood Bar and Grill for an evening of live cover tunes.

Here's the flyer that greeted us at the gig :






















We arrived at 11:15PM -- too late for the opening acts, but a bit too early for Judgement Day. We waited patiently, if not awkwardly. We also had a brief exchange with Judgement Day's drummer, who seemed surprised to see us. Perhaps it was the fact that Mrs. Driver doesn't come across as the type to frequent Whitesnake tribute band gigs. Maybe the drummer didn't really think we'd actually show up. Or perhaps it was that, having just come from a fancy awards thingy, we were dressed to the nines -- including (for her) a tank top with sparkly stuff around the collar, white slacks and designer shoes, and (for The Driver) a black suit with a striped shirt, cuff-links and designer shoes. At least one of us wore fake eyelashes. We looked hot. And wrong.

Granted, the designer shoes were probably lost on this particular audience. The fact that we were wearing them at all is another topic. Suffice it to say that they were on sale. And fabulous.

The point is, we stood out. A lot. So much so that The Driver feared a bar fight. This was a crowd who paid money to see a band that plays songs that were recorded twenty years ago. And they've done a lot of living since then.

One particularly inebriated patron staggered up and announced to Mrs. Driver, "I love your look. The whole thing. And I'm not gay or anything. I just have five sisters."

Thankfully, the guy was sincere -- and relatively harmless. He even hugged The Driver, gesturing to his natty attire as if to say, "You're trippin' me out with your clothes, man. But you're alright."

Which is good. Because The Driver hates to have to throw down.

Where were we? Oh, yeah. The band.

Judgement Day is pretty good. In fact, if you want to spend eight bucks and your Saturday evening listening to a band that sounds like another band that you still love twenty years after they were huge but you don't give a crap because today's music sucks, then Judgement Day delivers.

Technically speaking (WARNING: mild music geek language ahead), the harmonies were super-tight. The guitar tones were really good. And Mrs. Driver's drummer friend was the real deal. At the same time, there were limitations. Whitesnake used to play in arenas. Judgement Day was playing in a club the size of your garage. The drums couldn't get "big" enough, and they sounded a little dead. Plus, 1980s synthesizers must be really expensive, because the keyboardist's rig sounded at times like a Casio. To his credit, Whitesnake probably had seventeen keyboard tracks, and a month to mix them all down. Judgement Day was dealing with a house P.A. system with the house P.A. guy.

Check out Judgement Day's studio demo. For something that was probably produced with a few hundred bucks and a twelve pack for the engineer (again, compared to an epic studio session with big-time producers, layers and layers of tracks and countless hours of post-production), it's a very fitting... er... tribute... to the real thing.

As any connoisseur of tribute bands worth his salt knows, however, it's all about the vocals. The lead singer for Judgement Day not only could have passed for a much taller version of Scorpions' Klaus Meine, but he also proved he could pass for the frontman of a Whitesnake cover band. Given Whitesnake's heavy Robert Plant influence, that's saying something. The guy has pipes -- and showmanship to boot.

Unfortunately, the showmanship got a bit ahead of itself once or twice. Or more specifically, nine times. Because that's how many times Judgement Day's lead singer referred to the crowd as "Dallas, Texas."

"How you doin' tonight, Dallas, Texas?"

We're fine, Judgement Day. Except that there are about thirty of us here, and we don't feel that we adequately represent the entire population of the greater Dallas metropolitan area. And aren't you guys from Dallas? I'm pretty sure you are. My wife works with your drummer.

Still, thanks for asking.