April 6th, 1995 (Quite *not* Right)

 Quiet Riot are making the rounds on social media these days thanks to the story of John Torra, the 23-year-old, TENTH vocalist of the band. Widely embraced by fans for his authentic sound, it's got a real "young man gets his big break" kind of vibe, even if it's only to play casinos and the state fair. Plus, he's only 52 years younger than bassist Rudy Sarzo and the closest member to him his age in only a mere 26 years older, so I guess it works? It's all weird to me, but I do think the kid sounds good. But I'm not here to dwell on that, I'm here today to write about the one and only time I saw Quiet Riot when I was 21, and three years younger than John Torra. I'm here today to write about a show that was so bleak I'm shocked that anyone made it through its entirety. I'm here today to write about April 6th, 1995. 

None of these men were onstage in this story

In the late winter/ early spring of 1995, I came across a flyer for a Quiet Riot show at Blind Mellon's in Cheektowaga, just outside of Buffalo. It may have been at a Sick of it All show there in March (I saw SOIA there at least three times, it all kind of blurs) But either way, none of my friends were interested, except for my future roommate Phil. Metal Health was a HUGE record for most people in our age range; bringing us into the realm of heavy metal (that had truly set us on the journey to where we were 12 years after its release). But 1995 were DARK times for the world of metal and ESPECIALLY for anything closely resembling what is now known as "Hair Metal," dark times indeed. Phil and I ventured out on that rainy Thursday night hoping to see a show of massive proportions, what we got were sad has-beens struggling to keep it together. 

Phill on tour in 1995

When we got to the show, there was a quick scare, as it was 21+. I had just turned 21 two weeks beforehand, but Phil was on the low end of 19.  Turns out, the guy at the door didn't seem to care and we soon found out why, there were MAYBE 30 people inside, about 470 shy of Blind Mellon's 500-person cap. I should also mention everyone there was AT LEAST 5 years older than us. In those days, when you had just turned 21, people on the cusp of 30 seemed fucking elderly, now people on the cusp of turning 30 seem like they just turned 21, but I digress... Phil got a drink and we settled into a game at the pool table (the first of MANY).  Around 7:30 the opener, who where local and I think were called "Funhouse" started, clearly guys who were glam metallers a few year previous playing something slightly that and slightly grunge. Radio metal guys just DID not know what to do with themselves between Nirvana and Nu Metal and Funhouse, or whatever, were no exception. The bassist wore one of those stupid "Cat in the Hat" hats; I remember seeing those all over in the early 90's, but I can happily report I NEVER saw one again after this gig. They wrapped up their amateur hour set and we waited for QR to take the stage. I remember a woman there had Randy Rhodes painted on the back of her jacket. I remember this because Phil and I stood in that club with 28 other people waiting and waiting and waiting for literal hours. At some point I went up to one of the club's staff members and asked if Quiet Riot was actually going to play and he said "Yes, once they get the singer off the bus."

Not my shirt

Around 1 am, the Metal Health line up of Quiet Riot took the stage. Carlos Cavazo, Chuck Wright and Frankie Banali seemed in ok form, but Kevin Dubrow was absolutely obliterated. Wearing a ridiculously huge wig (he was balding in videos ten years prior!) and barely able to form complete sentences, he slogged through the opening song off their current record and nearly fell over. Approximately 5 hours after their only opener had completed their set, they went into the classic Slick Black Cadillac to the crowd's delight. But everyone in the room knew this was not a good showing for the band. The setlist was meandering and Dubrow was clearly off put by the increasingly smaller crowd as 2 am approached. They finally went into their closer of Metal Health but instead of being the triumphant endcap of the night; it felt slow, sad and mechanical. The slog continued as they broke into a medley of rock and roll classic in the middle of the song. We left, probably feeling as defeated by Quiet Riot as they were defeated by the small crowd and Dubrow's antics. I heard they came back 6 or 7 years later to a charged crowd of a couple hundred young people who had ironically or otherwise gotten into party metal. Good for them, it was over for me.