Steven Page performing in Montreal on Wednesday.John Morstad/The Globe and Mail
Steven Page At Théâtre L'Olympia in Montreal on Wednesday
Flying solo after decades in a wildly successful outfit is a huge undertaking. Steven Page showed he's determined to make it work in an upbeat performance, yet one that isn't yet entirely convincing.
He's on the road in a new quartet opening for the Goo Goo Dolls. That Buffalo-based alternative band formed way back in 1986 and hit mainstream success in the mid-nineties. They and the Barenaked Ladies seemed to run on parallel tracks with the suburban angst thing. But the Goo Goo Dolls are still a draw, while Page sorts out past, present and future after breaking with BNL in 2009.
Ten minutes to showtime at the Théâtre L'Olympia and the house is only two-thirds full. That's part of what happens when you're opening for the headliners. The crowd fills during your act, not for it. All part of carving out a new career - something a seasoned professional like Page knows, but it can't be easy.
The current entertainment news ethos loves nothing better than watching a fallen star try to rise again. A lot of the buzz around his latest release, Page One, was about whether it was expiation; was Page sufficiently contrite? A bizarre take on someone who's been pretty open about battling depression and the addictions that led to his fall from grace.
At 8 sharp, the house lights dim and Page strides to his spot. He and the guys are wearing retro-mod charcoal jackets. Page's sports electric orange piping. We're into A New Shore, the first song on the album. It's a poppy confessional tune with nice fluid playing and some fun syncopated rhythms. The lyrics are, indeed, self-deprecating and ride over an upbeat melodic line: "As captain of this band of merry sailors I'm a black mark, I'm a failure … and I forget if I was pushed or I jumped overboard." His voice is strong and full, and the Page/BNL fans are happy, but people yammering away over their drinks waiting for the Goo Goo Dolls seem to outnumber them.
There's a quick segue into Jane - released in 1994, when a good chunk of the audience would have been in daycare. The crowd is beginning to settle in and Page introduces the band, all of whom are named, conveniently, Steven Page. They have real names, but they were inaudible. He also talks about how great it is to be back at the L'Olympia, where BNL had recorded a number of sessions and, after joking that he'd only do two more songs, says his set would feature old and new. Indeed it does.
Here's the curious part. The old and new seem to meld through the performance so the sense of departure, of a bold adventure, gets lost. There's something closer to nostalgia in the air. It gets shaken up from time to time with songs like Indecision. It is energetic and direct, also off the new album. The band is tight, but they confront one of the other drawbacks of being an opening act: headliners infamously get a more thorough preshow sound check and there are kinks being worked out in the Page One mix.
Page is a pro and, really, an affable-seeming guy. Anyone who generously hosts an hour of CBC's The Current to talk about depression isn't going to be fazed by live gig hiccups. So the set pushes forward with The Old Apartment. She's Trying to Save Me has the band gel nicely. By the time they hit Clifton Springs, the singing isn't as strong as it should be and you have to wonder whether the split in the audience between those who are there for him and those who really just want to see the Goo Goo Dolls isn't beginning to wear on Page and his crew.
There's a nod to Arcade Fire and Page's praise for their new mega-fame draws the usual hometown hurrah, but the effect doesn't last long. Back to the past with Brian Wilson and some fun riffs of the James Bond theme and soon it's time to wrap it up as people continue to flow into the theatre.
Steven Page's tour with the Goo Goo Dolls goes to Ottawa on Friday; Hamilton on Saturday; Windsor, Ont., on Sunday; Winnipeg on Wednesday; Regina Feb. 25; Edmonton Feb. 26; Calgary Feb. 28; and Vancouver March 2.
Special to The Globe and Mail