Street Survivors and The Scotty Cooper Band — A Southern Rock Saturday Night

There was plenty of guitar-driven rock at The Bank Art House in Welland on Saturday night, as Street Survivors brought the music of Lynyrd Skynyrd to the stage, joined by special guests The Scotty Cooper Band, paying tribute to Alice Cooper.

Both bands delivered solid performances, with musicians who clearly know their material and enjoy playing it. There were a few sound issues along the way, but nothing that prevented an enthusiastic crowd from having a good time.

One issue was noticeable throughout both sets, at least from where I was sitting. Each band featured two guitarists, yet one was consistently much louder than the other, sometimes overpowering the rest of the band.

All the amplifiers were miked and running through the PA, so I suspect much of what I was hearing was the direct sound from individual guitar amps facing my position rather than the house mix itself. Someone on the other side of the room might well have experienced a more balanced sound. It's worth making that distinction before laying all the blame at the soundboard.

The Scotty Cooper Band opened the evening with a set that remained impressively faithful to Alice Cooper's music.

Guitarists Eric and Paul were both talented players who generally stayed true to the original arrangements. Unfortunately, Paul seemed to be having trouble with his boost pedal. Nearly every time he engaged it, there was an awkward burst of squealing feedback before things settled down again.

With limited stage time, there apparently wasn't much opportunity to diagnose the problem, so he soldiered on. It was distracting, particularly because it happened during most songs, but it didn't diminish his obvious ability.

Drummer Shawn was solid throughout. He wasn't playing his own kit, and I got the impression that he wasn't entirely comfortable with the unfamiliar setup — something he confirmed when we spoke after the show. Nevertheless, he handled the material well and kept everything moving.

And then there's bassist Darrell Mason, who also happens to be one of Niagara Arts Review's own contributors.

Full disclosure: Darrell and his girlfriend have been staying with me, and I've spent much of the past six weeks listening to him rehearse these bass lines. Mostly just the bass lines.

Hearing everything finally come together with the full band was particularly satisfying.

Darrell absolutely killed it.

And before anyone accuses me of editorial favouritism, I wasn't the only one who thought so. Several people commented on his playing throughout the evening. So there. My personal bias has witnesses.

Frontman Scotty “Cooper” — not his actual surname, but entirely appropriate for the occasion — is an engaging singer and capable showman who does a convincing job with Alice Cooper's material.

He certainly wasn't content to remain onstage. Scotty frequently ventured onto the dance floor and into the audience, singing among the crowd and occasionally turning back toward the band. At one point he was directly in front of me, facing the stage, providing one of those wonderfully theatrical moments that make live performance so much more interesting than watching a video. One of the photographs below captures that very moment. 

The band's presentation also included some of Alice Cooper's trademark theatricality, notably during “Dead Babies,” complete with the appropriately macabre stage props. A photograph in the gallery offers a glimpse of that particular bit of theatre.

Having seen glimpses of Scotty's previous performances, I had the impression he was holding a little something in reserve Saturday night. Perhaps it was simply the difference between opening a show and headlining one. Whatever the reason, he sang well, connected with the audience, and delivered an entertaining performance.

Watch: The Scotty Cooper Band — the final 83 seconds of “School's Out”

Before Street Survivors even took the stage, guitarist Dave Paugh greeted me with a bear hug in the green room. Dave and I go back to high school,  more than 40 years ago, and he proceeded to tell members of both bands a story about how we first met.

I had no recollection of the incident.

But I couldn't dispute a word of it. Everything he described sounded so entirely like something I would have done at that age that I had little choice but to accept his version of history.

Apparently, Dave remembers my teenage years better than I do.

Street Survivors then took over with an evening of Lynyrd Skynyrd favourites, and I discovered something about myself in the process.

Apparently, I'm a bigger Skynyrd fan than I realized.

I surprised myself by knowing most of the words to most of the songs. Somewhere along the way, that music had become more deeply embedded in my brain than I'd appreciated.

The band members are clearly more than casual admirers of Lynyrd Skynyrd. They've absorbed the band's sound, arrangements and attitude, and their affection for the material shows in the care they take with it. They even ventured into a few deeper album cuts, although most of the evening was devoted to the familiar favourites that kept the dance floor busy.

Frontman Donnie has captured much of what made Ronnie Van Zant such a distinctive stage presence. It's not simply the clothing or mannerisms. There's an easygoing confidence, a bit of swagger, and an understanding of how Van Zant could command a stage without appearing to work particularly hard at it.

Donnie clearly knows and appreciates the man he's portraying, and that familiarity comes through in his performance.

Both guitarists were excellent, although the volume imbalance I mentioned earlier was especially apparent here. Scottie Shennan's guitar frequently overshadowed Dave Paugh's, making it difficult to appreciate the interplay between two otherwise very capable players.

The rhythm section, meanwhile, deserved more attention than it received.

Bassist Ronnie was outstanding. He held down the foundation of the music with authority, while occasionally slipping in some remarkably fast, almost metal-inspired flourishes. You could hear that he had experience with heavier music, but he never allowed those embellishments to interfere with the songs.

They were little flashes of personality rather than exercises in showing off. He remained faithful to the Skynyrd sound while putting just enough of himself into the performance.

And I certainly can't overlook drummer Kenny, who was an absolute powerhouse behind the kit. A hard-hitting, energetic player who drove the band relentlessly without sacrificing the groove. His long hair hung straight down even when the rest of him seemed to be moving in every conceivable direction.

I couldn't quite put my finger on what he reminded me of until it hit me: Animal, the drummer from The Muppets. Not because his playing was chaotic — quite the opposite — but because of the sheer physical enthusiasm he brought to it. Watching him really let loose was almost as entertaining as listening to him.

Keyboardist Steve Goode was another standout, although unfortunately he was criminally low in the mix for much of the evening.

His playing was remarkably faithful to the original recordings, providing exactly the sort of piano and keyboard textures that are essential to Lynyrd Skynyrd's sound but can easily be overlooked when the guitars are roaring.

Fortunately, he eventually got his moment.

Near the end of the evening, the rest of the band left the stage for a while, giving Goode a well-deserved solo. Suddenly, with nobody else competing for sonic real estate, everyone could hear just how good he was.

And he was very good indeed.

One of my personal highlights was “I Know a Little.” The bass and keyboard work on that number was particularly impressive, and afterward I made my way toward the stage to offer a little appreciation to two musicians who don't always get the recognition they deserve.

Unfortunately, neither was looking up.

I lingered a little longer than intended, trying to catch someone's attention, until Donnie jokingly chastised me for coming up and taking over his show.

Apparently, my career as a stage invader was over before it began.

There were other amusing moments.

During “That Smell,” the sound engineer was experimenting with the vocal reverb when Donnie's voice suddenly and briefly acquired an almost supernatural amount of echo.

“Is that the voice of God?” I joked.

The reverb was gradually dialled back, a little at a time, until it presumably reached something closer to the intended effect.

And then there was the dancing.

A pretty woman I know asked me to dance. I declined, explaining that I'm not a dancer, prompting my tablemates to pound the table and chastise me for turning her down.

What none of them understood was that I genuinely don't dance. Had I accepted, I would have walked onto the then-empty dance floor and stood there bobbing my head, exactly as I'd been doing in my chair. Only with a considerably larger audience.

Unfortunately, she'd already walked away before I could explain this to her, and the music was too loud to explain it to my tablemates.

I might dance under the influence of an extraordinary quantity of alcohol, but I was nowhere near that condition Saturday night.

Trust me, declining was an act of mercy.

“Sweet Home Alabama” predictably brought more than half the crowd onto the dance floor. Donnie's attempts to encourage audience participation by offering the microphone produced some rather questionable singing, but nobody seemed particularly concerned.

Everyone was having a great time, and that was the point. The photographs below offer some evidence of just how enthusiastically the audience responded.

And, of course, no Lynyrd Skynyrd tribute would be complete without “Free Bird.”

The extended outro provided the evening's inevitable climax, with Dave and Scottie trading and weaving guitar solos around one another while the rest of the band drove the music forward.

After an evening in which the guitar balance hadn't always allowed both players to be heard equally, it was particularly satisfying to hear them come together for that familiar, exhilarating finish.

For all the occasional technical distractions, both bands delivered performances that were energetic, respectful of the original music, and thoroughly entertaining.

And I left The Bank Art House with two realizations: Lynyrd Skynyrd apparently occupies considerably more space in my musical memory than I thought, and there are some exceptionally talented musicians keeping this music alive.

I'm no fan of Saturday night specials, but this was one I thoroughly enjoyed.

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