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Avril Lavigne Learning to fit into herself during concert
Venue/Date:
Greek Theatre (Los Angeles, CA)
Concert Date: August 16th, 2005
Reviewer: admin
Venue Parking
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Venue Security
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Opening Band
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Opening Song
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Set List
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Band Connection
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Band Energy/Intensity/Showmanship
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ConcertGoer Energy/Intensity
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Sound Quality
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Set and Lighting Design (SLD)
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The Finish/Encore
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9.50
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We don't care anymore – and neither does she
Review: The mania for her seemingly over, Avril Lavigne prepares for
oblivion with a smile at the Greek.
By BEN WENER
The Orange County Register
I'll say this much about fleeting phenom Avril Lavigne: She sure is
enjoying herself on the ride down.
There has been a radical change in the petite Canadian's demeanor since
the last time local devotees witnessed a headlining performance, in May
'03 at Long Beach Arena. Back then, with Avrilmania reaching its
zenith, the prefab pop-punker whose hits "Sk8er Boi" and "I'm With You"
were inescapable turned in one of the most listless, desultory
performances from a budding superstar I've ever seen.
Maybe she had grown overwhelmed by adulation and paparazzi-hounding; maybe
she was just tired of the grind - or maybe she was just being a testy
18-year-old. Regardless, her attitude suggested that the last thing she
wanted was to continue being Avril Lavigne for worshipful preteens dressed
exactly like her.
Fast-forward to Thursday, at the first of two shows at the Greek Theatre,
with new star Gavin DeGraw and Butch Walker (co-author of "My Happy
Ending") in tow: Out bounds sunnier Avril in a Pam Tillis T-shirt and
cut-off jeans, the once-sullen look in her darkened eyes brightened by a
beaming smile, her trucker cap ditched to reveal longer, blonder Jessica
Simpson hair.
Talk about a transformation. Apparently an engagement to Sum 41 snot
Deryck Whibley (you could spot the rock on her ring from 25 rows away)
and deflated career expectations agree with her.
It means something that just two years after being the hottest thing on
"TRL," Avril can't even sell out a 6,000-seat theater and doesn't seem to
mind. It signifies two things, actually: 1) This is the beginning of some
kind of dead end for the less-moody sprite; and 2) she seems perfectly
willing to play the professional hack from now on, plying her wares
indefinitely with all the mannered pseudo-passion of, say, Berlin's Terri
Nunn.
Only true fans need bother at this point. She may still score another
chart-topping platinum album, but like her second, "Under My Skin," it
won't measure up commercially to her 2002 monster debut, "Let Go." Nor is
any future music apt to reveal much creative progress; most likely she'll
have just traded one collaborator (The Matrix, Chantal Kreviazuk, Ben
Moody) for another to convey the same generic wounded-teen-rebel thoughts:
I was alone and you didn't care, I'm special, I always get what I want,
let's run away, why should I care?
Still trapped in basic emotions even Alanis had let go of by the time of
her gargantuan breakthrough. How boring.
I realize it's old hat to compare Avril to Alanis, but the similarities
are still too blatant to ignore, right down to Avril's annoying habit of
nasally elongating phrases, like so: "Did you think I was gonna give it up
to you this ti-eee-yi-eee- yime?" But why such comparisons should cease
isn't because Avril is her own woman. It's because she's nowhere near the
caliber of Alanis.
Where Alanis, an introspective poet at heart, recovered from the same
celebrity overdose by advancing her songwriting via challenging structures
and lyrics emboldened by personal yet accessible philosophy, Avril, at
roughly the same age, is still babbling on about matters only junior-high
girls could care about. "Take Me Away," "Nobody's Home," "Fall to Pieces"
- the banal titles alone tell you all there is to know about her feelings.
She's so bereft of ideas that her rather paltry performance concluded not
with an attempt at something daring (she's tried "Knocking on Heaven's
Door" before) but with limp covers of Blink-182's "All the Small Things"
and Blur's woo- hoo-ing "Song 2," with a drumming Avril (making Meg White
seem like Keith Moon) and unabashedly hammy Walker on vocals. (He should
stick to the Linda Perry method of penning hits for others.)
It was a finish only idolizing girls could love, for that's primarily what
she attracts. But though I'd agree with them that Avril is still a cut
above Ashlee Simpson and Hilary Duff, this show proved that the margin has
gotten dramatically smaller.
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