Sleep Country Amphitheater is just outside Portland, Oregon, and we are at the start of our two week holiday-come-endurance attempt to cross the States seeing as many gigs as we can. This gig is my most eagerly anticipated, and by way of background it's in an outdoor enormo-shed. This is what the big US summer tours do, and if you're used to general admission fests or indoor gigs they suck big time. Basically it's all seated, with top dollar customers and corporate loyalty schemes down the front, with a standing lawn area at the back, which generally leads to a rather soulless experience. (You may remember on the Maiden/Ozzfest tour Bruce Dickinson complained of fat hot dog eating fucks down the front sat on their arses in the front row and totally not getting into the show, so you get the idea right?) Fortunately having purchased our top dollar tickets through the Crue Fan Club, we have excellent seats right at the front, right of the stage in fact and all is well, with not a hot dog in sight. 

New York Dolls are first up, and one gets the distinct feeling that Mr Sixx would have much preferred them as special guests. The sad thing is, none of the crowd is here yet, and the seat Nazis won't let you down the front to generate a small crowd and thus any kind of atmosphere. These legends of the sleaze glam punk scene are therefore pretty much ignored and struggle through a half hour set. One young shorthaired baseball capped youth next to me enquires whether the singer is doing a Mick Jagger Tribute. Sadly, that's the kind of response these legends get, and it's all down to the venue format. I remember seeing Ronnie James Dio, open for Maiden, legend that he was/is, and having exactly the same experience! It really is a travesty, but David and the boys soldier on, and demand the Portland crowd "stay weird"... which shouldn't be too hard as mostly they are left bemused and clueless. Final song of their short set  'Personality Crisis' does at least get some of the crowd singing along.

Following a brief pit stop for an eight dollar Bud Light, that is breaking the trades descriptions act for being an alcoholic beverage, next up is Poison. Whilst they've been largely ignored the UK over the last 10 years, I've been lucky enough to catch them in the U.S on their summer tours several times, and for a good time rock and roll party, they've consistently done an awesome job! One might say - it's their bread and butter. Brett Michaels might be more known for reality TV these days but he still looks very much the rock star, the rest of his band however look quite ravaged by the sands of time and their rock and roll lifestyles. CC Deville actually looks worse than David Coverdale with his the bleached white teeth, and skeletal features, and Bobby Dall has perhaps been taking too much image advice from John Barrowman. However, in spite of Nikki Sixx's recent Tweets to the contrary, Poison are the perfect warm up to get this party truly started.

Its safe to say that in the U.S most glam metal fans appear to be both Poison and Crue fans and why not as both bands repertoires are chock full of dance floor classics. Tonight we are treated to every Poison hit going from 'Unskinny Bop', to 'Ride the Wind'. 'Look What The Cat Dragged' might feel slightly dragged out, if you excuse the pun, but there is pyro a plenty, and after each song a hat (and wig?) change from Brett to keep us all enthralled. There's even a "new song", although I'm sure it isn't that new as 'We're An American Band' (it's a Grand Funk Railroad cover) is dedicated to "our troops".  This seems almost compulsory these days in post 9-11 America, and gives an insight to the outsider into just how patriotic this county really is. I couldn't see that happening with our famous British reserve down at Wembley or the 02. The lighters, iPhone lighter apps, and cameras all come out for 'Every Rose Has its Thawwwn', before finally they bring us all to an earth shattering climax with singalong "Talk Dirty To Me" and then 'Nothing But A Good Time'. Well we certainly had a good time, Mr Sixx, job done, and you are left with a nicely warmed up crowd for ya. I head out for a Motley Poo (well everything else seems branded) and another pint of expensive Pseudo Beer.

When I return, the arena is still seemingly half empty when the stage suddenly erupts in explosions, the curtain falls, and there's Mick Mars wheeled into position for 'Wild Side'. Vince slides down a fire mans pole, and....it all stops!! Fire alarms resound throughout the auditorium and the band disappear. What the hell is going on here?? Happily the rest of the crowd reappear in their seats, and the band come back on after about 15 minutes and set the audience alight with their modern classic 'Saints of Los Angeles'. This set has been chosen by the fans, and is therefore hit after Motley fucking Crue hit! Now, those fans who saw Crue at Sonisphere, will know many criticised them for their sound, and Vince singing every other word with audience help...Thankfully there are no such antics here tonight, and to be fair their last U.S Cruefest tour, playing the whole of 'Dr Feelgood', was one of the best metal shows I've ever seen, coupled with their awesome Wacken performance where they won over a far heavier (well music taste wise anyway) crowd. I'm anticipating an awesome show here. Vince quickly explains the false start as a piece of (pyro) equipment breaking and it's back to business.  'Shout At The Devil' then finally wakes anyone else who hadn't quite realised the show had started, (or didn't know the words to 'Saints') and everyone is on their feet and fists are pumping the air.

The stage show is simply staggering in scale, from pyro, to foxy dancing girls who look 'seasoned' enough to have been plucked out of the 7th Veil on Sunset Strip. The band themselves look fit and tight, and for a band that has reputably snorted half of Columbia I hope I look that good at fifty (although, OK Mick Mars still needs hoisting about on a forklift to get to his solo on each side of the stage, but that's a medical condition so he's excused)

We then get a Liberace style piano wheeled out, and Tommy Lee comes out from behind his kit and tinkles away. As a symbol of unity (yeah, right boys, kerching !!!!) the band all put their hands in, and the boy Vince croons as 15,000 pairs of knickers fall around their ankles (mine included!) to the tune of 'Home Sweet Home', and there's no sign of voice problems there either.

Vince then serenades us (and the sluts on stage) to 'Don't Go Away Mad (Just Go Away)' in true comic book style, a style that they're so used to putting on. Because Is it all real right? Well read the book and decide for yourselves.  Vince's charming character clearly shows through here tonight and you've got to love him for all his sins, as he really is every blonde haired rock and roll bad boy's true anti-hero. (Well he's mine at least!)

Much has been written about Tommy Lee's roller coaster drum kit and I'm not exactly what you might call a fan of drum solos, especially after having sat through a half hour set of solos with Mr Trousersnake recently. Sadly I had missed seeing Tommy's rotating drum kit of yesteryear, so I was actually looking forward to seeing the roller coaster in action to help breathe some life into that tired solo format. As it starts lumbering over the stage, it's concept is frankly bloody bonkers but as I say it's exactly what you need to brighten up a dram solo, as Tommy rolls round like some insane tattooed fairground ride worker. What slightly let's the spectacle down is the accompanying dance track, could you not have found something vaguely metal to less offend my ears Tommy? To be honest I'm not "really" listening that hard though as we are all entranced by the insanity of seeing Tommy upside down and playing his heart out. A very lucky fan is then brought out to join Tommy in the spare seat.  And how jealous are we all now?

Whilst the boys in the house lust over the dancers, Vince rides the air Harley home with 'Girls, Girls, Girls' and continues the journey home right into the final song of 'Smokin' In The Boys Room' and it's all over far too quickly.  A quick costume change into ill-fitting boiler suits, and we have the zombie-fied encore of 'Kick Start My Heart'. Reminiscent of Gene Simmons, Nikki spits blood over the front row, before being helped out by an army of blood pistol wielding zombie roadies to nicely break that fourth wall, but hey is spitting blood with zombies the new Rock 'n' Roll?  I'll ask Hammerfall, Lizzy Borden and Dressed to Kill shall I?

Another awesome Motley Crue show then, and one which leaves me with a smile on my face for days to come. A good job done by all, but have Motley become the Rock 'n' Roll eternally young vampires, and are Poison showing their true age? I do hope, when they return to UK shores as rumoured with Def Leppard in December, they bring their whole stage show, Vince uses his entire vocal range, and they bring this level of showmanship, as frankly, having seen both this and Cruefest II, Europe has been short changed.  Although, at least they can get on a plane, unlike Poison.

Photos by Kay Oakley