Photos By: Travis Tutwiler
“International No Panties Day” That enlivens the mind doesn’t it, Dear Reader? More later. Having heard it directly from the pouting lips of the seemingly ageless David Coverdale, as he swaggered upon the boards of Dallas’ Verizon Theatre Monday night, it served to remind everyone in attendance why they loved Whitesnake in the first place, and why after nearly 40 years, the band lives on arguably stronger than ever. The muscular riffs, the anthemic choruses, the incendiary guitar solos, the winking, brazen sexuality of the lyrics all tied together in the perfect package of 80's excess harkens to an innocent time before many of us were forced to grow up and move forward in life. But there’ll be no more talk of growing up and moving forward; for on this night, we were in for a show and not simply an ordinary Whitesnake show, if there is such a thing. This was something special.
The band’s current album and tour is centered on a project of particular interest to your ol’ pal, The Hatter. You see, there had been talk between Mr. Coverdale and one Ritchie Blackmore about the possibility of collaboration, tied in some way to the storied history of Deep Purple, the band Mr. Blackmore created and the band from which Mr. Coverdale got his start in music. Apparently, this had come on the heels of the death of Deep Purple co-founder and keyboardist Jon Lord, who also played in an early incarnation of Whitesnake. For reasons undisclosed, this project did not come to fruition. Nonetheless, Coverdale’s creative wheels had been set inexorably into motion, the result of which became Whitesnake’s The Purple Album, a reimagination of several Deep Purple chestnuts from the Coverdale era (MKs III and IV for those keeping score at home) revved up beyond the wildest imagination I’m sure, of those that created them. To that end, the current Whitesnake tour features a set comprised of half Deep Purple songs and half classic Whitesnake fare. I’m too young to have seen David Coverdale front Deep Purple, but certainly old enough to have heard and read about the legend of it. Figuring this might be my only chance to see these songs performed live with DC on vocals (and with the friendly prodding of my pal The King), I plunged headlong, once more into the breach as it were, and this is what I saw and heard…
Whitesnake exploded onto the stage at the very un-rock ‘n roll hour of 8:30 p.m. and lit into Deep Purple’s classic, “Burn” to open the show. Immediately, something was different. Perhaps it was the band being propelled forward by the jet engine that is Tommy Aldridge. Mr. Aldridge was a blur of puffy hair and wild gesticulation as he powered through every number of the nearly two-hour set, seeming stronger at the end than at the beginning. Mr. Aldridge is a physical specimen plays like a 20 year-old madman!