Thursday, Feb. 25, 2010

Song remains the same?

The first time I heard Alice In Chain's "Check My Brain," I had to check mine, to make sure it wasn't something I'd heard before, say off of the band's '90s classics such as "Dirt" or "Facelift."

The droning down-tuned guitar riff, and the sludgy harmonized vocals immediately signaled to me that this tune had to be Alice In Chains, even if the radio announcer hadn't told me so.

I figured that it had to be a new track rather than an old deep album cut I wasn't completely familiar with, as I'd read that AIC was doing what some considered the unthinkable - putting out a new album with a new lead singer filling the shoes of the old one, who had lived up to the "live fast, die young'' credo.

Turns out the new singer is a dead ringer for the dead singer - at least on record.

For a moment, check your brain and think about your all-time favorite music group or band.

Does that group have a distinctive lead vocalist, someone that defines the band's vocal sound, someone that's unmistakable that you could pick out, even if you'd never heard the song before?

What would happen if that voice was no longer a part of the band?

Would you still follow the band?

Should the band soldier on? Should it change its name and head down a new musical path, severing its ties to the past?

Despite personnel changes, many pop and rock bands can retain their identities if the main singer stays in the fold and continues to belt out the songs that made them famous. But what happens if the singer - that identifiable voice, the one who makes the ladies swoon and the dudes pump their fists in the air - kicks the bucket and can't be brought back, artistic differences be damned? It happens more than it should, considering the often-self-destructive rock 'n' roll lifestyle (and the fact that many classic acts are getting to be rocking chair ages).

Some fans seem to be giving Alice in Chains, which comes to the House of Blues on Saturday, a break as new lead singer William DuVall has settled into the spot formerly occupied by Layne Staley, a guy with a distinguishing voice and a deadly drug habit. AIC is back with its first album of new, Staley-less material, and the general consensus seems to be that it's the same old, dark, brooding, murky, yet melodic hard rock the band has churned out since the early '90s.

Allmusic.com's review of "Black Gives Way to Blue" gave the record 4 out of 5 stars and said, "There's a difference between desperately attempting to recapture past glories and reconnecting with their roots, and Alice In Chains fall into the latter category."

But, of course, not everyone agrees.

Just like many decry sacrilege when Led Zeppelin reunites, albeit infrequently, to play without madman drummer John Bonham, or some insist that AC/DC's relevance ended when lead singer Bon Scott died in 1980, not everyone is enamored with Alice in Chains 2.0.

So what will AIC's legacy be?

For this week's cover story, we've dispatched former Weekly Surge staff writer Timothy C. Davis (who has neither died, nor been replaced) to explore the history of rock bands replacing dead singers - a history that is dicey at best. The most successful would have to be the aforementioned AC/DC, which actually became more popular after Brian Johnson replaced Scott, and the hard-rocking Aussie quintet can still fill arenas.

Davis talked with various industry insiders, including some local fans and musicians, to craft a compelling narrative about whether or not an original voice can ever really be replaced.

Also, on page 14, we've got a discussion of what would happen if another huge Seattle band from the grunge era decided to replace its deceased front man.

All in all, sometimes fans buy into the music despite the vocalist, sometimes not. Johnny Van Zandt replaced his dead brother in Lynyrd Skynyrd, and while the band remains popular, its critical acclaim has taken a nose-dive. The Doors of the 21^st Century featuring Ian Astbury of The Cult in the iconic Jim Morrison's spot didn't go over well; neither did Michael Hutchence's replacement in INXS, which was found via a realty TV show. "Pretty Vegas" anyone?

At what point does a band become a brand?