Granted, Bill Murcia, Jerry Nolan, Johnny Thunders (but Sylvain did sing "You can't wrap your arms around a memory" for him) and Arthur Kane were all excused tonight. Wherever they are, they'll be rehearsing for that great reunion. But until then we have to do with what we've got, which is still a lot. It's a raucuous - sometimes on the verge of cacophony - rock'n'roll show. Sylvain is the jester of the band, Johansen in surprisingly good and agile voice, skinny as a rake and wrinkled like Jagger and Iggy combined, his moves are sparse, but effective, I last saw him as Buster Pointdexter in NYC in 1988, Sam Yaffa, survivor from the Hanoi Rocks, looks younger and healthier than he did 20 years ago, it's amazing what good rehab can do, he looks a bit Johnny Depp'ish Pirates of the C. at times and wears his Jazz Bass down (pics to follow), Steve Conte is a deadringer for Nikki Sixx though a little stouter and the bald, youngish drummer does fine work. I never saw the old Dolls, what I heard on bad bootlegs was, well, I guess you had to be there. This was tight, but wild tonight. I stood right at the stage, leaning over a monitor, something I haven't done for ages, with Sylvain's Marshall and Yaffa's Ampeg fridge blaring in my left ear which is numb and ringing. Exceedingly entertaining, jawohl!
