We Know It’s Only Rock N’ Roll But We Like It

Diamond David Lee Roth, Wells Fargo Center, last night by ROBIN ODLAND

INQUIRER: Dropped lines, variable-pitch delivery, and all, there’s still no better ringleader for an arena rock circus than Roth… arguably the best front man in rock history.

MISSION CREEP: To his credit, Mr. Roth seemed aware of his shortcomings. He knows that the only way he can make money performing this utter horseshit and keep the audience from hurling beer bottles at his cranium is to provide a distraction. Which is exactly what he did. Incredibly, the distraction—his dick—became the focus of the entire show. (It’s sad, really, when it gets to that point.) Basically, Mr. Roth spent more time with his right hand down the front of his trousers playing with himself than singing. He even pulled his hand from his pants and raised it to his nose occasionally—I’m not making this up—for a sniff. That, ladies and gentlemen, is entertainment! A woman from the audience threw a silk scarf at him, which he shoved down his Spandex drawers, rubbed against genitalia, sniffed, and threw back to the lucky gal. Now there’s a valuable piece of rock memorabilia, one that will undoubtedly provide years of misty-eyed memories. The woman seemed to revel in the sentiment of this too-close encounter, and we instantly concluded that she was insane. MORE

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