Phoenix Rising! Musicians United to Benefit the Victims of the Station Nightclub Fire

Standing onstage during the Phoenix Rising concert, Twisted Sister frontman Dee Snider read through a list of people behind the scenes who made the benefit show a reality. Much to his surprise, the last name read was Scott Dunbar. The 29-year-old survivor's fortuitous correspondance with Troy Luccketta led to the Telsa drummer's commitment to the victims of The Station nightclub fire.

Dunbar, a lifelong Metal Edge reader who frequents nearly every hard rock show that plays in the region, says there was a lot of thought before attending a concert again after the fire. "I definitely had a few doubts in my mind," he remembers. "I questioned if it was right for me to be going." But there was never any question that he would ultimately continue to support live music and his favorite bands—even Great White. "You just have to go with your instincts," he says, aware that support is a point of contention between some survivors and families.

Sixteen acts took the stage at the Dunkin' Donuts Center for a 4-hour show that crossed over musical genres. The 5,430 attendance seemed sparse, given the 14,000-plus capacity of the downtown Providence arena. Empty seats at the back of the hall were a woeful sight at first, but seemed to matter less as the night progressed. Snider served as a masterful emcee, provoking a proud sense of self-reliance in the face of five years of neglect from the mainstream music industry to the fourth deadliest nightclub fire in US history.

Gary Hoey opened the show with his "Star-Spangled Banner," followed by DC Talk singer Kevin Max with "Amazing Grace." His haunting take on David Bowie's "Heroes" with Stryper guitarist Oz Fox moved some to tears, but the night mostly seemed a jubilant celebration of love and life.

Several instances of players guesting with each other were prominent, including Boston guitarists Tom Scholz and Gary Pihl joining Stryper on "Peace Of Mind." Scholz, acknowledge from the stage as having donated $10,000 in addition to performing, was in the minority of area musicians on the bill. Although Snider denounced their abscence backstage, he put a more positive spin on the lack of regional bands like Godsmack and Aerosmith by encouraging applause for New Englanders who did appear when introducing Aaron Lewis.

The Staind singer was a visible highlight of the night with "It's Been Awhile" and cover of Bob Seger's "Turn The Page," and also former Mr. Big frontman Eric Martin who drew a rousing response with "To Be With You." Surprisingly, for an event perceived as a hard rock show, John Rich, Gretchen Wilson and Dierks Bentley were cheered for their set that included a country version of AC/DC's "You Shook Me All Night Long," and a powerful cover of Heart's "Straight On."

Rolling Stone, Metal Edge and regional TV stations represented some of the media reporting on the event. Todd King, a Station fire survivor and fund board member who co-organized the concert, was the center of attention as much as the bands scrambling backstage before the show. VH1 filmed the activity onstage and off for Aftermath: The Station Fire Five Years Later that aired a month later. Dunbar thinks increased media awareness is not only necessary to raise funds, but also to underscore that due to the severity of their injuries, many survivors will always need assistance. "It's taken five years just to get to this point. There's a lot of people who need some serious help," he says, thinking the variety of talent broadened awareness beyond being just a hair band problem.

"Just guys who love music" is how Scott remembers Derek Gray and Eugene "Gino" Avilez, two friends with him who died in the Station fire. He counts King's X a week earlier as the last concert they saw together, where they made plans to see Great White. Dunbar remembers the car stereo malfunctioning halfway to West Warwick, forcing them to talk. "We were able to really talk," he reflects about the conversation that included plans to revive Metal Action, his defunct fanzine that was admittedly distributed by "sticking it in Metal Edge magazines at Barnes & Noble."

"We talked about a lot of stuff. If we had the CD player blasting, we wouldn't have been able to talk like we did. I thank God when I think about it, that that CD player broke."

In addition to the one hundred people who died in the fire, approximately two hundred were injured. More than sixty children lost one or both parents as a result of the blaze. Despite settlements worth millions of dollars, disbursement of any money will not be immediate. As Snider explained during aToday show segment on the fifth anniversary of the fire, estimated allotments of $50,000 to $70,000 per person will not go far toward paying outstanding medical costs, much less a lifetime of daily living expenses.

Dee alluded all night that the Station Family Fund has basically taken care of their own for the past five years. Dunbar says he's come to know many fellow survivors and family members as a result of the tight-knit family of people affected by the fire. "It's a common bond that you share, so you definitely get to know a lot of people who were unfortunately involved in this situation."

Watching the audience that included people who were visibly survivors, the realization that it could have been any of us was potent. Joe Kinan, who joined the onstage all-star singalong of "We're Not Gonna Take It," has no left eye, ears or fingers. Hospitalized for nearly a year following the fire, he's endured over one hundred surgeries so far. Seeing him put the reality of the aftermath into perspective. The triumphant elation of the Phoenix Rising concert receded the following day back to the routine of daily life, but it was hard not to try to imagine the painful reality of Joe's daily life.

For the victims and families of those lost in the Station nightclub fire, that night will never end. Phoenix Rising is the beginning of never forgetting them. Visit www.stationfamilyfund.org for more information about the Station Family Fund.

Originally published in Metal Edge, June 2008

Back to the Beginning, Literally

Karen Grossman, a good friend of mine, has suggested more than once that my written work should be archived online for interested readers to...uh...well, to read.

I like the idea. Besides, personally, it would be kind of cool for me to trace the written path of the last 18 years. Some of it is already lurking out there online; a lot of it exists in the pages of magazines like Metal Edge. Some of it is in CD booklets and box set liner notes, and most recently an actual book.

My first attempt at music journalism was Prime Choice. Michael Jenkins and I had grand ideas that it would be like Rolling Stone, but with the anti-establishment, music-loving integrity that magazine had lost years before. We knew nothing about publishing, but the camaraderie of loving music was the only thing we thought we needed to be print media moguls.

I was an ex-English major college dropout, laid off from retail management. Michael quit his job at Strawberries Records & Tapes to sell advertising. Together, with an Apple II computer, financed at an ungodly interest rate, our plan was entertainment media domination. There was no way we could fail.

The Prime Choice story is better saved for another blog, or maybe even another book, but getting back to the idea of an archive, it was the publication for which I wrote my very first review. It had plenty of cliche music review phrases, providing very little substance beyond a recitation of what songs were played. Throw in an aversion to commas that resulted in a few run-on sentences, some transparent attempts to come across as an industry insider, and you'll certainly ask yourself: this guy actually went on to become an author and get paid as a professional music journalist? Shit, I could do this.

Which is exactly what I thought when I started writing about music.

Tesla

Providence Civic Center

May 4, 1992

Just for the record, there weren't any explosions or laser light displays at this show. No trampolines or trapeze bars. Come to think of it, I didn't notice any bungee jumping going on either. Nope. Just five good ol' boys and a wall of Marshalls jacked to 10. No carnival theatrics, no bullshit.

The evening began unceremoniously as guitarist Frank Hannon strolled out in full view of the house lights. Fellow guitarist Tommy Skeoch—his hair pulled up in reminiscence of Belushi's Saturday Night Live samurai skits—hobbled out moments later (his left leg in a brace, the result of daredevilry during a tour break) to trade bursts of guitar fire until, one by one, the rest of the group wandered onstage. The crowd was up and Tesla was off and running with "Cumin' Atcha Live" From their first LP, Mechanical Resonance.

Songs from the band's recent Psychotic Supper album provided the framework for much of the show, including "Had Enough," "Change in the Weather," and the Steve Clark-dedicated "Song & Emotion." And, of course, "Call It What You Want" and "What You Give." Given their recent radio and MTV support, the inclusion of these two songs wasn't surprising; the absence of "Edison′s Medicine" was. Since it was the first single from the album, not to mention a strong song, I was pretty sure it would have been included in the set.

Jeff Keith's voice was an anomaly. Why this man didn't lose his voice, I'll never understand. For nearly two hours, he maintained his distinctive harshness without sacrificing any delivery power. Absolutely amazing. Following a full throttle, blood-curdling scream that closed "Time," he announced: "It's time to play y'all a little acoustic shit, man," and he easily down-shifted his voice for an acoustic set that began with "The Way It Is."

Perhaps the release of Five Man Acoustical Jam and the subsequent popularity of its single, "Signs," offered Tesla the security to perform live acoustically, something even the mighty Zeppelin never seemed comfortable enough with to attempt in America. In any case, for a crowd that had settled down—it almost seemed like people were getting restless—the acoustic set brought people to their feet, clapping and singing along with "Signs," of course, and an inspired version of "Paradise," featuring bassist Brian Wheat on keyboards.

Considering that most arenas were initially designed with sporting events in mind and not music, Tesla′s sound could have easily been at the mercy of the rafters of the Providence Civic Center. Their sound crew deserved a well-earned round of drinks (no, I didn't offer) for versatility. Troy Luccketta′s drums consistently rattled filling, while the acoustic set rang crystal clear.

Rather than presumptuously wasting time waiting for screams of adulation before the encore, Jeff Keith refreshingly stated: "Ya either wanna hear more, or ya don't," and hinted that they were "gonna jam on somethin' in E," and surprise—Steve Miller's "The Joker." The real surprise came when Frank Hannon assumed lead vocals on an incredible cover of Peter Frampton′s "Do You Feel Like I Do," complete with voice box. "Gettin′ Better" closed the show and a stomping, screaming audience was left with Jeff Keith′s unorthodox farewell: "We'll see ya round like a donut."

Originally published in Prime Choice, Volume 1, Issue 1 — May/June 1992