Review by Shawn Perry
Live photos by Mark Jackson
News Flash: Greta Van Fleet are the leaders of the New Wave of Classic Rock. And they want to take you back to 1972 — before they and most of their audience were born — a time when rock, romance, glamour, ambition and pretentiousness all bundled together to spread a free-for-all form of idealism — where uninhibited art, fashion, self-expression and post-60s-revolutionarinism reigned. Those days consumed every indulgence the punks would declare war on later in the decade (though they would embrace the rewards once their flavor of primal vexation drifted into the mainstream). No question the punks would have despised Greta Van Fleet’s very existence.
The 15,000 who came out to see the band over two nights at the brand-new FirstBank Amphitheater, 30 miles south of Nashville, could care less. It was better to imagine these shows, carved into the rocky remains of a quarry, could be every bit as magical as Bowie or Queen were in their hedonistic 70s heyday. From the teenage goth girl leaning against the front railing, to the tall dork donning a headband, paisley shirt and frilly vest, to the three or four youngsters spotted in black Led Zeppelin United States of America 1977 t-shirts — it’s clear the kids want to rock out every bit as much as their parents and grandparents, some of who were also in attendance.
Short sets from Cedric Burnside and Shovels & Rope — both comprising uber-talented, stripped-down guitar-and-drums lineups cornering Blues and Americana territories — kept a rapt crowd in suspense and anticipation. It had been roughly 20 months or so since Greta Van Fleet had played a concert, and with their second full album, The Battle At Garden’s Gate, keeping the momentum going, curiosity grew as the all-white stage came into view. It was balanced with strategically placed twilight zone antennas, a couple of Marshall stacks, and an array of keyboards arranged on a pedestal fit for the likes of Rick Wakeman and his cape.
Loads of Beatles and a little bit of Jethro Tull played as last-minute adjustments were made. When the lights splattered the space and dry ice fog filled the stage, you could feel a collective thirst salivating for the first sounds of live rock and roll echoing through the Graystone Quarry — and a flood of new material from Greta Van Fleet. Indeed, the two-night stand would see the live debut of half the songs from The Battle At Garden’s Gate. What better place to road-test the new stuff than before the disserting ears and eyes of Music City.
It wouldn’t be easy because many of the songs from The Battle At Garden’s Gate are grand in both scope and execution. They got right down to it on “Heat Above,” with Sam Kiszka rubbing out a passage of monolithic strokes on the keys to cue the crowd and set up a big entrance for singer Josh Kiszka, guitarist Jake Kiszka and drummer Danny Wagner. Like any world-class rock band, they transformed the amphitheater into an exhibition of aspiration and bravado. It was time to celebrate post-pandemic rock and roll.
Early on, they surrounded a drum solo with a pair of favorites — “Safari Song” and “Black Smoke Rising” — which seemed a bit odd, timing-wise. It did, however, pave the way for more maiden material like “Age Of Machine.” Now warmed up and in charge, Josh Kiszka, packed into a white jumpsuit and barefoot, raised his arms and led the flock through the verses. To his left, twin brother Jake, draped in a Jimmy Page-style Nudie ensemble, leaned into the rhythm and anchored down the song’s driving tempo. The lights against the white backdrop, props and equipment, plus the black and white live video on the venue’s stage-side screens, created an overarching, dramatic effect, deliberate and invigorating.
There was little conversation from the band’s frontman, whose Freddie Mercury tendencies are still in development. You have to remember that this is a garage band from Michigan, not the lofty entrails of Cambridge. They’re not exactly intermingling with the regencies of royalty. The band’s growth as recording artists and live performance is, however, indisputable. They’re doing everything they can to ditch the labels, especially the one about them being Led Zeppelin clones, and pushing into new areas. In the process, they’ve consciously or unconsciously tapped into other influences to parlay their ascent. Hence, the flashback to 1972.
They rolled out premieres of “Trip The Light Fantastic,” “The Weight of Dreams,” “Built By Nations” and “My Way, Soon,” which finished up the night, and littered the set list with solo spots and songs from their 2017 EPs and 2018 album Anthem Of A Peaceful Army. There’s no lack of quality to choose from, and for tonight’s selections, nothing was left to chance. By steering clear of lighter fare like “Broken Bells” and “Tears of Rain,” Greta Van Fleet showed they came to FirstBank to shake the place up.
“Age Of Man” began the three-song encore, and it sanctified any misgivings Nashville may have had about the band’s power. It might have been the night’s highlight had it not been followed by an equally enticing slaying of the band’s breakout “Highway Tune.” And, all of sudden, there it was, unfolding within the throng gathered before the stage: the goth girl, the headband guy, the kids in their Zeppelin shirts. Swept up in the fervor, they finally had a real rock and roll band they can call their own. Screw 1972, it might as well be 2022 when everything is supposed to get back to normal. That’s about the time Greta Van Fleet will be set for world domination. By all accounts, the planet will need it.
