Reviews

Velvet Revolver may finally be out of ammunition.

Rocco Guarino

Velvet Revolver - (from left) Matt Sorum, Dave Kushner, Scott Weiland, Slash and Duff McKagan - was low on firepower at Smirnoff Music Centre.

A hefty chunk of the rock world expected that scenario much earlier than this, though. And that collective mindset – a veritable self-fulfilling prophecy, if the effect is valid – may be why the supergroup is faltering like it did Thursday night at Smirnoff Music Centre.

Exhibit A: the attendance, which couldn't have topped 6,000. This show should have been held at Nokia Theatre, especially with two opening acts (a resurrected and droll-sounding Alice in Chains and post-prog upstarts Sparta) with limited drawing power. As calm and shellshocked as the crowd was, Smirnoff felt as drained and deserted as it has in recent memory.

Exhibit B: sales of Libertad, approaching 300,000 after nearly three months on the street. VR's debut, Contraband, moved that many copies in a little more than a week in 2004 (and Libertad is a better album in almost every respect).

Exhibit C: history, as in its propensity to repeat itself. Singer Scott Weiland's psychological and chemical issues are well-documented, as is his inconsistency onstage. The former didn't appear to be a direct issue (he's reportedly been sober for a while now), but the latter reared up nastily Thursday.

Mr. Weiland's voice was harsh, craggy and severely limited. He couldn't be heard during deep-timbred verses on "Sucker Train Blues" and a spare and punked-up cover of Stone Temple Pilots' "Vaseline," and he couldn't hold notes on "She Mine" and the act's current single, "The Last Fight." He lost his place in a post-solo "Vaseline" verse, too, and his normally sinewy stage presence had all the grace of a 60-year-old ballerina with bad knees.

His kicker was the evening's only Guns N' Roses cover (and a surprising one at that): "Patience," which is as prototypical a voice-showcasing sleaze-rock ballad as any. Mr. Weiland was trying; you could see it in his mirrored aviator-shrouded face. But all he did – and the band didn't help by electrifying the denouement – was demonstrate that the song should remain Axl Rose's to sing.

The set's only blessed grace was guitarist Slash, whose occasional butchering of a lead run ("Patience") was quickly forgotten with the delivery of a sublime one ("Superhuman"). The grimy and salacious grooves he and bassist Duff McKagan supplied on some numbers ("She Mine" and "Get Out the Door," which is Libertad's best cut) hinted at what VR is capable of (and has delivered, most recently here at Ozzfest in 2005).

But transitioning from the constrained beauty of "Patience" directly to the smarmy squalid boogie of "She Builds Quick Machines" takes talk, not 40 seconds of black-lighted, back-turned silence. Mr. Weiland: Adore your audience please, even if it was smaller and quieter than you likely expected.

Velvet Revolver played its 2004 hit "Fall to Pieces" two-thirds of the way through its 90-minute set. It should have saved it for last.