Smallpools The rising LA quartet was a good reason to get to Rock in Rio a little early on Friday afternoon. They took the stage armed with synth-pop party anthems at 6 p.m., warming a crowd that was definitely unprepared for an overcast evening. Smallpools are gaining a lot of attention and radio play with debut album Lovetap and they performed it almost entirely.
Early in the festival, the main stage is still dealing with some technical difficulties. The overall volume of the main stage is incredibly high, much higher than the ancillary Mercedes Benz Evolution Stage. Also, the dynamic level change between the main stage volume and the first row of secondary speakers is noticeable, and the bass is overpowering, muddling Smallpools’ bright sound. The band lost power completely for a few minutes during “Mason Jar.”
But all of these issues would be corrected throughout the night. During this set, the audience really started to fill the festival grounds, but I think Smallpools would have been a better fit for the festival’s second, pop-oriented weekend. With their backing tracks, sugary lyrics and sunny melodies, they’re definitely not a rock band. That’s fine but I wonder if the people excited to see Metallica tomorrow are enjoying this Train cover.
Gary Clark, Jr. The Austin-based bluesman is a perfect festival act. He’s probably not someone I’d buy a ticket to see headline a solo show, but within a larger festival lineup, he’s a can’t miss act. Rock in Rio’s extended set lengths allow Clark to really explore, and more importantly, heat up. He’s not a busy player, not even slightly. Repetition is a well-worn tool of Clark’s but he’s tasteful and he can keep a three -ote solo interesting just with his emphasis. The drums and bass know to stay out of the way and the focus is kept on Clark and his rhythm guitarist, the neon pink poncho-wrapped Eric “King” Zapata. Clark’s trademark Gibson SG burns and bleeds with emotion. My favorite points come when either guitarist pulls out a slide and lets loose. Clark is a throwback blues artist who has shared stage and style with legends like B.B. King, Eric Clapton, Buddy Guy and many more since he was 12 years old. He’s not breaking new ground for the genre as much as celebrating it and keeping it relevant for younger generations.
The Pretty Reckless I don’t know who Taylor Momsen is, or maybe I do, but I specifically didn’t IMDB her in the weeks leading up to Rock in Rio because I didn’t want to let her fame color my opinion of the band. I will say she is probably the least compelling member of the band—well, second least. Sorry, all bassists. There’s a lot I can like about TPR, like their hyper-technical drummer or their imitation Jimmy Page guitarist (he looks just like him!). But overall, this is boring, single-riff driven, dated rock with empty lyrics carried by the stardom of what I’m assuming is an “it” girl and the fact that she doesn’t entirely suck.
Foster The People It’s been a while since Foster the People played five consecutive nights of two free shows at the Cosmopolitan’s tiny Book & Stage venue but I can’t help but think fondly of those intimate evenings before they were a near headliner on a giant music festival bill. Since then the band has released two albums, toured the world and even returned to Vegas a couple times. Each time I see them, I note how much their stage production has increased. They’ve added touring members, a second drum kit, effects and video. But this is still a defining time to see the band to witness the variations between the pop sensibility of their debut album versus the experimental jams of their sophomore record. It’s a common story for bands that break out quickly, and unfortunately for FTP, the first record wins every time. “Helena Beat,” “Call It What You Wanna Call It,” “Don’t Stop (Color on the Walls),” “Houdini,” and of course, “Pumped Up Kicks” are the highlights of their performance. They are another Friday band that could fit in pop weekend, but they add a nice range to this initial rock weekend.
Maná The Guadalajaran pop-rock superstars will top 30 years as a band in 2016. Their career is a testament to Mexico’s musical contributions to the world, crossing borders of traditional and modern rock in such a fun way. They will definitely win the award for inspiring the most dancing during Rock in Rio USA’s first weekend, unless you categorize mosh as a type of dance. It’s ballad-based rock, which could easily get boring, but it’s kept interesting by the band’s musical engine, drummer Alex González. From his tattoos, long hair and open kick-snare patterns, González is clearly a product of ‘80s hair metal, but he gives his playing so much more flair than his counterparts, mostly by constantly adding ultra-busy cymbal work.
Maná sounds great. Singer Fher Overa’s voice is strong and soulful, laying on top of sweeping electric guitar and auxiliary instrumentation from bongos, extra percussion and even a few dashes of horn to round it all out. I don’t speak a word of Spanish, nada, but language is hardly a barrier to enjoyment. The crowd is massive, engaging and moving, and Maná is a fitting choice to lead into Rock in Rio’s first headliner, No Doubt. In an almost unheard of bit of festival protocol—but absolutely suitable for RIR’s full concert experience—Maná takes a three-song encore.
No Doubt It’s midnight when Friday’s headliner takes the stage, capping a long day for those of us who have been here since Saints of Valory started playing at 3:30 p.m. It’s late, it’s cold (relatively) and the Anaheim natives must be aware of this because they waste no time making sure we don’t regret sticking around, launching into a hit parade of a setlist without a clunker to be found. The early part of the band’s set pulls heavily from its mid-to-late career. Radio hits like “Hella Good,” “Get in Line,” “Hey Baby,” “Ex-Girlfriend” immediately warm up the crowd, but we go a surprising nine songs before the band dives into anything off breakout third album Tragic Kingdom. Something about that record still hits harder than anything they’ve done since, with so much raw power in tracks like “Excuse Me Mister,” “Sunday Morning,” “Just a Girl” and “Spiderwebs.” I think the only thing that comes close is “Bathwater,” which fits in nicely when surrounded by No Doubt’s end of show run of classics.
It’s 1:30 a.m. before I know it and the set concludes. Gwen Stefani is still as beautiful as my 12-year-old heart remembers, even if her style now is more posh than punk. More importantly, she is such an engaging frontwoman whose strength has always come from the duality of bravado and vulnerability, and her willingness to offer both. I think my love for the ska and reggae-influenced band was lost somewhere around Rock Steady, but my nostalgia for the band’s innovative early work is still strong and I enjoyed their show much more than I anticipated.
