Midlake - Band had plenty of punch at the Grog.

Midlake is a backwards-looking act on lots of levels. Its second record, the outstanding The Trials of Van Occupanther, has a '70s-infused vibe that courses through its entire length. The record's themes are rooted in the past as well, as it's a concept record of sorts with songs about bandits, stonecutters and people reading Hobbes' Leviathan. Against a tapestry of Occupanther's cover art (a strangely arresting image), Midlake opened its Cleveland live debut with the record's title track, a somewhat elegiac opener punctuated with some solid vocal harmonies between leader Tim Smith and Eric Pulido (which proved to be a strength for most of the set).

From there, it surveyed almost all of Occupanther's highlights, infusing "Roscoe" with a bit more drive than is in evidence in its recorded version and also adding quite a bit of verve to "In This Camp." It took a little while, but the band finally got around to visiting its debut Bamnan and Slivercork by tearing through both "The Jungler" and "Balloon Maker," two tracks that sound as if they were written by another band entirely. The pronounced '70s influence was especially evident in the run-through of "Head Home," which the band turned into a Steely Dan-sounding jam. The funky "Young Bride" was certainly a standout of the set, and got the audience as close to booty-shaking as these guys probably ever could (although the surprisingly large crowd was attentive and ultra-respectful throughout). While there's a lot of name-dropping of nearly-forgotten lite-rock acts associated with Midlake (some writers seem to use write-ups of the band as an excuse to throw out Christopher Cross and Dan Fogelberg references, a trap I also just fell right into), Midlake provided plenty of punch throughout its initial Cleveland stop.

Opener Dawn Landes is sort of an unknown, though she's been releasing records from her New York base since 2001. While her recorded output is pretty folksy, Landes and her band played more muscular versions of her songs here, and as a result she came across as more Juliana Hatfield than Linda Ronstadt. n

Thomas Dolby

The Tangier

Friday - September 14

Decked out in a super-nifty headphones/microphone headset, Thomas Dolby established himself as a definitive incarnation of 1980s new wave/sci-fi cool as he began his first song, the wonderfully spacey "Airwaves." Dolby performed in such a way as to make his process for layering and constructing sounds particularly visible to the audience. That, combined with Dolby's fine songwriting and likeable demeanor, translated into an engagingly personable concert. Dolby packed the show's first half with his moodier tunes, which, although not among his big US hits, constitute the finest works for which Dolby deserves to be most remembered.

A guest horn trio called the Jazz Mafia Horns backed Dolby for the show's second half. Their hornsmanship was impeccable, and in addition to all their brass, one of them incorporated an arsenal of handheld percussion instruments that expanded Dolby's songs nicely. Especially placed alongside the attentively stylish stage presence that Dolby made for himself, it was particularly odd that the Jazz Mafia Horns looked like some disheveled guys whom Dolby met at a truck stop on his way into Akron. Dolby's biggest US hits "She Blinded Me With Science" and "Hyperactive" got the horn treatment and preceded covers of the Latin standard "Sway" and Bootsy Collins' "Hot Sauce" to close out the night. As it was when Dolby recorded them in the late '80s, "Hot Sauce" and the crooning swing schmaltz of "Key to her Ferrari" remained artistically questionable moves. "Sway" came off with more innate charm, but still didn't seem to make much coherent sense within Dolby's overall creative identity. Dolby deserves credit for wanting to pave different ground with the touring horns, but perhaps a future live show with exotic percussionists would better serve the atmospheric retro-futurism that Dolby does best.

Opening duo Spec.Dev twiddled synthesized glitches and atmospherics while projected black-and-white video mirrored the music's uniform, droning textures. Despite the performers' obvious preparation, with overused electronic music clichés and an absence of varied intensity or compositional negative space, the performance added up to little more than flat, innocuous audio-visual wallpaper as the audience talked over it. - Michael David Toth

Sum 41

House of Blues

Saturday - September 15

Promising to "rock your face off" and give you "the best night of your entire life," it was safe to say Yellowcard frontman Ryan Key set the bar a little too high. Yellowcard, an MTV pop-punk band through and through, is out touring behind its recently released fifth album, Paper Walls. The band-with-the-violin played favorites "Lights and Sounds" and "Way Away," not to mention some of the new stuff like "Keeper" that really dropped the crowd's liveliness. Key then went acoustic with "Only One." Keeping it consistent, he added, "Let's blow the roof off this place," closing the set with its biggest hit, "Ocean Avenue." Even with the grandiose statements, these Floridians did a nice job of getting everyone at this sold-out show warmed up and on their feet for Sum 41.

Yet Sum 41's show left much to be desired, with the general consensus being too much talk and not enough music. Led by Avril Lavigne's husband, Deryck Whibley, the guys came out to the current single "Underclass Hero" off their new album by the same name. Poorly attired Whibley was dressed in all black with a red armband, looking like a Nazi. Known for its poppy-punk style, this silly quartet has actually gained a good deal of respect for its metal tendencies. After "Motivation," Whibley welcomed everyone to hell and introduced "another metal song" called "We're All to Blame." Admitting he felt like Elvis Presley, he left the stage and came back with a white scarf and sunglasses, singing "It's All Right Mama." It was a good thing they listened to their fans requests for some of the "old stuff," because most of the new stuff flattened the energy and sounds too much like predecessors Green Day and Blink 182.

Things picked up again with classics "In Too Deep" and "No Difference." The encore was by far the highlight of the night. "Fat Lip" off All Killer No Filler soothed the anxious crowd which had waited all night to hear the song. And the "Pain for Pleasure" closer was outstanding, with drummer Stevo-32 taking the vocals to sing a song that sounds like a classic metal song you know you've heard somewhere before. - Pete Mihalek

Metal On Metal 25th Anniversary

Beachland Ballroom

Saturday - September 15

"If you're not a metalhead, you might as well be dead," a verse from co-headliners Piledriver's 1983 classic "Metal Inquisition," was indeed the consensus Saturday night at the Beachland. Definitely not for those weak of heart or low on beer funds, the show began at 5 p.m. with the vintage Maiden-style Lick The Blade and ended nine hours later with an audience-assisted (the actual drummer was too wasted) encore by metal godz Raven. Although the nonstop sets of squealy-guitar falsetto thrash assaults were ridiculously engaging at first (especially Destructor), the sheer magnitude of the bill (seven bands playing hour-long sets) soon felt like heavy metal boot camp, or "how much metal can you take before your brain explodes?"

Yet excess is precisely what made the event such a blast. Commemorating the anniversary of an iconic college DJ who's been on the air almost as long as Mitch Capka, only the admirably unpretentious Bill Peters could successfully assemble a mass roster of grizzled heavies without it venturing into Spinal Tap territory. And aside from some ill-advised homophobic world peace rants from the Anvil singer ("let bygones be bygones and not bisexuals"), the indulgence factor of the performers was refreshingly low. No midtempo sucktune ballads or modern cash-in experiments surfaced either; just pure power-metal blitzkrieg.

Following inspired sets by Lick The Blade and the hardcore-tinged Soulless, local heros Manimals delivered sloppily energetic punk-metal workouts that charmingly retained the goofy live theatrics of the early '80s. It was fun watching both guitarists strutting around, side by side with frontman Larry the Wolf (with a rubber demon attached to his bass) during the heavier parts. For the last number, Manimals tossed their sweaty tank tops into the macho leather-clad crowd and tore off their guitar strings. It was an exciting prelude to the less flashy but more wicked Destructor, who stole the entire show. One of the greatest unsung frontmen in all of metal, singer-guitarist Dave Overkill pointedly condemned emo music for "being too emotional" and yucked it up with enthused headbangers, young and old. Destructor's newer material from Forever In Leather thrashed with the same abandon as the older stuff and none of the noxiousness was lost. Watching these guys smash their equipment was a high point.

Most memorable was Canadian jokesters Piledriver. Clad in executioner gear, the robust, drunken vocalist plowed through "Sex With Satan" and "Witch Hunt" before pausing mid-lyric in "Human Sacrifice" to puke all over the stage. - Steve Newton