After eight years of Rockflesh.com contravening grammatical structures, it is only inevitable that there will be repetition and repeat offenders. Whilst there is a myriad of acts that this here website has covered twice or thrice, there is only a handful of musical vendors that we have caught up with in numerous locations and on numerous occasions. A particular frequent flyer is those ubiquitous test-tube breed hard rockers, The Dead Daisies. There was a point before the pandemic when they seemed to be everywhere and had taken up squatters' rights in this country. All of our scribes (past or present) have at some point strung together meaningless words to describe their particular brand of inexplicably infectious good-time so boogie (aside from our resident hardcore kid who managed to procure a letter from his mum stating that their potent brand of musical fibre was too melodious for is one kidney to bear). And here we are again, the Daisies are back. Hughes is out, Corabi is back in and in the shape of Michael Devin, they have recruited yet another refugee from the Whitesnake camp. 

The Dead Daisies' beauty is that they skipped all of those growing pains and appeared on the scene as a fully formed rock legend. Whilst they still do have the whiff of a supergroup about them, they have now managed to secure their own mythology and it is obvious from the generous splattering of The Dead Daisies merch around the venue, that people have been drawn here tonight by the band itself as opposed to its constituent parts. They also pull together an impressive undercard, showcasing the rude health of the current Hard Rock scene. 

The Bites are the first up on the treadmill and they are fuelled by a very particular blend of youthful energy and reckless endeavour. The sound is murky and brittle, but their insane level of unapologetic charisma manages to shine through the audio fog. Their songs are simple and have the air of Steel Panther but without the wink-wink knowing irony. But it is all presented with such exuberant panache that you can't help but fall for their charms. Whilst they are swimming in crowded musical waters, the raw passion at which they attack their art makes them stand out from the crowd. 

Jordan Tyler’s voice may not have the strength and depth of his peers, but he manages to paper over that by being an astoundingly affable front person with a tendency to go wandering whenever he feels like it. Tonight, he ends up on the balcony happily milling along with the throng enjoying the fruits of his bandmate's labours. The Bites currently feel primal and underproduced and that is what makes them so exciting. Needless to say at some point their rough edges will be smoothed over, but for the present moment they emit that wonderful odour of primal rock 'n' roll and it is both sweet and scintillating.

The Treatment are a much more polished commodity. It is obvious that they are all virtuoso musicians with a staggering amount of talent between them. It just lacks that essence of danger that makes rock 'n' roll so enticing. The songs are well-structured and contain choruses that you could film the next Top Gun movie on, but they feel homogeneously designed to please. It is so slick and well-executed that you find yourself hankering after a few mistakes or imperfections to make the whole thing feel real. Not a bad band by any means and they certainly won over the crowd, it just had the general persona of rock designed by committee.

For those unfamiliar with John Corabi, if you were to do a Venn diagram of the singing abilities of Motley Crue vocalists, then he would be the absolute polar opposite to Vince Neil. For a man whose biggest claim to fame is one album with the glam metal superstars during their wilderness years (though many people argue that it is in fact their finest piece of work), John Corabi has a significant cult of personality around him. The gasps are audible as people catch sight of him during the setup and for all The Dead Daisies T-shirts on show there is also a sizeable contingent that bears Mr. Corabi’s mugshot. Whilst his return may have been inevitable in the general merry-go-round that is Dead Daisies personnel, it has given the band a much needed shot in the arm. 

In the last days of Glen Hughes reign, it was all beginning to become a bit nostalgic cabaret with the number of Deep Purple covers ratcheting up. However, this umpteenth rejuvenation of the line-up has resulted in a band that once again feels fresh and exciting. With seven albums of original material now under their belt they can cultivate a fan-friendly set that never takes its foot off the pedal. John Corabi has made a career out of making other people's songs his own and he deftly put his mark on the three tracks played from the Glen Hughes era. In fact, Mr Corabi is in imperious form, calling our weather Shite, bemoaning his personal taste in women and draping himself over his fellow bandmates in a way that David Bowie would feel was inappropriate. He acknowledges his absence by stating that it feels wonderful to be back with his friends. 

There is an obvious camaraderie that runs through The Dead Daisies' veins. They are not just callously taking David Lowy’s money, this is a band that enjoys playing together and the constant warm onstage interactions absolutely prove that. As the years have wound on this has become as much Doug Aldrich's (and to be honest John Corabi’s) band as it is Mr. Lowy's. Doug lives up to his guitar god persona this evening. His solos are blistering, and he bounces around the stage with the conviction and energy of a man half his age.

A spoiler is dropped towards the end of the set when they reveal that they recorded not one, but two new albums and a blues record will follow next year. We get a sneak peek in the shape of the Muddy Walter’s standard ‘I'm ready’. What it illustrates is the versatility of the band. What could or even should be an ill-fitting hodgepodge of people you recognise from other outfits, is instead an outstandingly consistent and quintessential rock band. The audience love The Dead Daisies because they are The Dead Daisies and ‘Mexico’ and ‘Long Way To Go’ are sung along with the same zest and reverence as the inevitable covers of ‘Fortunate Son’, ‘Midnight Moses’ and ‘Helter-Skelter’. Rock 'n' roll is about fizzling spontaneous energy, and this evening is brimming with it. The Dead Daises have long since graduated that aforementioned supergroup tag and with the musical superhero that is John Corabi back in the ranks, they prove beyond doubt this evening that they are ready to take on all comers.

Check the “In The Flesh” page for more photos!
The Dead Daisies + The Treatment + The Bites