By Jae-Ha Kim
Chicago Sun-Times
January 20, 1992
The only thing coy about Joan Jett Saturday night at the Cabaret Metro was the peekaboo lace catsuit she wore. With a guitar slung low on her hips and a sly sneer spread over her lips, Jett out-machoed the male guitarists she grew up emulating and took her fans through a gritty, 85-minute rock ‘n’ roll odyssey, where sweat and vitality were as essential to the show as a solid riff.
Most of Jett’s songs are a synthesis of glam, punk and bubble gum rock, where the lyrics are secondary to the crunchy beat of her music. When she sang “I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll” or “Do You Wanna Touch Me (Oh Yeah),” there was no need to psychoanalyze her. What she sang was what you got.
But on cuts from her current album, “Notorious,” Jett got a little more complex. Four years ago, in “I Hate Myself for Loving You,” she sang, “I want to walk, but I run back to you.” Now she’s telling him, “I’m throwin’ out all the things that you’ve given me . . . that I paid for myself,” in “The Only Good Thing (You Ever Said Was Goodbye).” And I don’t know whether the bulk of the male audience got the sarcasm of her scathing song “Machismo,” but they happily sang the “Always so macho, alwa ys so macho,” refrain with her tattooed backup band, the Blackhearts.
Reverentially staying out of their leader’s way, drummer Tommy Price, bassist Kenny Aaronson and newest member, guitarist Tommy Burns, offered tight musicianship that packed punch. Price and Aaronson in particular added muscular edge with their pounding rhythm section.
Jett’s chic new bob hairdo may have whispered, “Watch me,” but her well-seasoned chops screamed, “Listen up!” The sheer volume in her voice would make her a natural as a metal singer, but Jett’s love for pop melodies and old fashioned rock added a wistful undertone to her raspy vocals. Like Chuck Berry, George Thorogood and the Beatles, she understood that a well-thought out hook ultimately is more satisfying than a series of scales. Jett showed she not only loved rock ‘n’ roll, but she knew how to play it well.
The Millions, a fledgling Nebraska band, opened with a strong, half-hour set. Although vocalist Lori Allison flitted around the stage like a prom queen, it was easy to overlook her awkward stage presence when she sang. Her powerful, haunting voice was both seductive and winsome.
