ONE OF THE tragic injustices of contemporary cultural trends has been the shunning of the virtuosic. New Zealand, unlike larger and more culturally diverse countries, took the DIY credo of punk to its breast, and thenceforth, musicians displaying stunning technical facility have been treated like pariahs.
It’s easy to see why the DIY thing rang true. There’s that running cliché about New Zealanders being jack-of-all-trades, and why the heck would you need a specialist to build a fence or fix a car when a good Kiwi bloke should be able to do all that and down a good dozen on a Friday night. We’ve always been suspicious of specialists, and especially, those who excelled in any particular skill. Only mountain climbing and rugby is immune from this strange leveling of the playing field.

The virtuosic in rock music has always been viewed suspiciously by some because of the music’s supposed genesis in raw blues, a view that conveniently ignores the fact that no music form has been immune to influence. Look at the “race music” influence on dirt-poor country, and vice-versa, or the classical influence on jazz. Music is a virus, after all, and the notion that the big beating heart of rock should remain true to Bo Diddley is like saying all human life should remain true to the authenticity of the African tribes we all originated from.
So, it’s okay for a classical player to show off his musical chops, as it is for an Indian traditional virtuoso, but because of this erroneous and distorted perception that ‘rock’ is somehow separate from other

That can be true, of course. I remember sitting through a John McLaughlin concert in the early ‘80s that was technically brilliant, but aside from endless displays of technique, lacked any of the qualities I look for in musical performance: there were no memorable compositions, no sense of musicians getting off on each others’ playing, and it all just seemed so… empty. [I hasten to add that McLaughlin, at his best, is one of my favourite guitarists].

What Indian ‘classical’ musicians do is use their hard-won techniques to multiple purposes: those incredibly fast musical passages, both arranged and improvised, are partly about wowing the audience, but really, the deeper meaning is in the level of engagement, the knowledge that the skill is hard-won, and more importantly, the exultant feeling the listener gets when his brain focuses on the shooting sparks of all those flying note clusters. It’s exactly the same listening to Steve Vai and his musical buddies. Vai is clearly at the top of his game, and I doubt that there’s an electric guitarist on the planet who could combine his technical facility with his musical ability, and harness it in a show that is never less than thrilling during its two-and-a-half hours. Yes, really. And besides that, he how could anyone resist the cool noises he gets out of that guitar?
Part of it is that Vai really engages with his audience, he respects his audience, and is there to entertain them. He jokes that most of the half-full ASB Theatre are male guitarists, and he’s probably right, but the show isn’t just for music students.

There’s so much humour, levity and bonhomie, and even variety, that all my critical faculties were soon in abeyance, and just when you’re starting to wonder if you can stomach yet another round of guitar mangling, there’ll be an acoustic set (with vocals!) or a surprise entrance by the drummer with a bizarre portable, skull-and-flashing-lights-encrusted percussion contraption, or Vai himself will turn up in a sci-fi costume with flashing lights and lasers. Yes, this guy knows how to take the piss out of both himself and the obvious clichés of his craft. So there are costume changes and solo turns by other band members (check Simon Sweetman’s apt review of the Wellington show here for more specific musicianly details)

Just brilliant. GARY STEEL
Note: I must mention the ASB Theatre, which has recently undergone a massive redo, and more importantly, some kind of bizarre, highly technical acoustic makeover. I was lucky enough to hear the APO a few months back in an inaugural performance in this new environment (which is to become the orchestra’s regular venue), and was amazed at the clarity of the audio. Hearing a full-on rock band in the venue was just as impressive: while the bass at times was almost too pervasive (at least where I was sitting), the overall clarity was astonishing. It’s so great to finally have a medium-sized concert venue in which acoustics have been the first consideration. I hope to get the full lowdown on how they got it sounding so good in a future article.
You are absolutely correct , about requiring musicality to go with technique .
I saw the John McLaughlin concert you mentioned , and my feelings were pretty much the same .
However , in my opinion , the player who best combines these qualities currently , is Jeff Beck .
I saw his most recent concert hear a few years back , and also saw him at the Auckland Town Hall many moons ago with the Jan Hammer Group .
Both are still the most enjoyable / best concerts I have been to , closely followed by the John Williams / John Etheridge one .