November 2001, Sunrise Musical Theater, Sunrise, Fla.
I lived in State College for a couple of years in the mid-90s, and while the decade was rife with bands that gained huge popularity on the heels of a certain album (Hootie and the Blowfish, Alanis Morissette and Counting Crows come to mind), no one was bigger in Pennsylvania than Live.
Hailing from York (which they wrote a song about called “Shit Towne”), Live’s sophomore release Throwing Copper was a massive record, reaching No. 1 on the strength of two No. 1 songs (“Selling the Drama” and “Lightning Crashes”) and five top 15 singles overall. I moved to State College in ’95, a year after the album’s release, and Throwing Copper was still everywhere, all the time. There was even a bar in State College the band did a surprise show at during my days in Happy Valley which I found out about afterwards — I liked Live but wasn’t in love with the band.
I saw the band a couple years before at a festival in Atlanta, and they were good. It was a hot day and four shirtless guys roamed the stage playing songs from their debut album Mental Jewelry. I left impressed, thinking the band had a bright future.
Fast forward a decade, and I’m with my friend Jon (who I also worked with in State College) in Sunrise to see the band again. While Live didn’t replicate the success of Throwing Copper (and who can, Hootie and Alanis did not with their follow-ups), the band didn’t do too bad. Secret Samadhi (1997) and The Distance to Here (1999) did well, as the former also reached No. 1 and included “Turn My Head,” my favorite song from the band. The band was set to release V, a collection of songs the band was pushed to release under label influence, but with four other albums in the books, Live had enough material to pack a show with constant favorites.
We arrived early to see Stereo MCs, whose main claim to fame is the song “Connected,” and while I didn’t know much else past that, I became interested after the performance. Lively with killer grooves, Stereo MCs rocked the house with their infectious music. The British band’s mix of electronic rock and rap was smart, and vocalist Rob Birch didn’t fear the large stage. It was an odd choice of band to open for Live, but it did get the crowd going.
Here’s what I think about Live: The guys in the band seem like a good bunch, writing solid music and not making a big fuss about it, but somewhere along the way all the fame and money went to the head of lead singer Ed Kowalczyk and he became a massive dick. I don’t want to say he thought of himself as a kind of god, but he was acting like it. Kowalczyk is no longer with the band and lawsuits detail what happened, but he was in charge on this night, with the spotlight always on him.
And he played it to the hilt, though the song selection was at times odd. The band opened with “Simple Creed,” which would become a moderate hit on V, but few knew of it on this night. It followed with “Like a Soldier,” another new song, then added “The Distance,” a non-starter from The Distance to Here. It was a weird three songs to start the night, and it wasn’t until “All Over You” began that the crowd let out a collective roar.
At their best, Live excels when it is loud and screaming. I get the sense Kowalczyk likes the slow-down songs because they become all about him, but when he’s a piece of a song (like in “I Alone” and “White, Discussion”) instead of the main cog (“Overcome”), the band is unparalleled. These three songs were played on this night, and while “Overcome” developed a huge following in the days after 9-11, it felt on this night like a showcase for Kowalczyk to show how important he is. The band even played “Imagine,” which is a song no one should ever cover.
“White, Discussion,” however, ended the main set with a powerful well of instrumental madness. Guitarist Chad Taylor, bassist Patrick Dahlheimer and drummer Chad Gracey were all in — it’s a song where they shine — while Kowalczyk’s voice was a perfect part of the furious fray. The encore of “Run to the Water” and “I Alone” made the show instantly memorable — these are the band’s strengths and they know it.
Then Kowalczyk came on stage wrapped in a flag and sang “Overcome,” which felt self-important. It’s a shame because the song is quite good.
It was a strong show, and Kowalczyk had a lot to do with that. The stage had these various levels and he would move about, spending a good part of the time on a higher part than the rest of the band. But it was a propos, a singer who’s part of a band he thinks he’s above.
