AFI 7/7/06 @ Vic Theatre

AFI delivers glam and gloom
By Bob Gendron
Special to the Tribune
Published July 10, 2006

Standing cross-legged atop a wooden riser and dressed in an all-white outfit complete with suspenders and wedding gloves, Davey Havok reared back his head and summoned a pained facial expression, his eyeliner glittering under the spotlights.

The AFI vocalist's glam appearance suited his quartet's continuing move away from hard-core punk and embrace of bleacher-stomping pop. On display at the second concert of the group's two-night stand Saturday at the Vic, the evolution also fueled an artistic incongruity that witnessed blood-, death- and sorrow-filled lyrics crooned over wimpy refrains and uplifting, arena-size hooks.

Havok's bandmates also wore white duds. So did their instrument technicians. In fact, nearly everything about AFI -- from its matching ashen-colored amplifiers and microphone stands to its depression-clouded themes and formulaic music -- screamed of a smartly marketed fashion statement.

But misery loves company, and AFI's catchy brand of gloominess is attracting dedicated throngs. A primarily teenage audience soaked up the band's words and sang along with nearly every line, allowing Havok to rely on their contributions whenever he felt an urge to preen or strut. The singer couldn't consistently carry a tune, but it didn't matter. When in doubt, he pulled back the microphone, pretended he was wounded or simply screamed bloody murder, the latter approach serving heavier fare such as "Death of Seasons" and "Bleed Black."

Yet the majority of AFI's 70-minute set dealt in mascara-streaked melodrama that coasted on climactic emo-lite payoffs and power-ballad fireworks ("Summer Shudder"), leaving little opportunity for intense workouts. A handful of token screamo efforts were overshadowed by songs built around electronically enhanced dance beats ("Love Like Winter") and candy-coated chants ("Miss Murder") that would've been right at home at a junior high basketball game.

During the encore, Havok waded into the crowd and gingerly balanced his feet upon fans' outstretched hands. Leading the faithful through one last "whoa-oh" gasp, he choked back what seemed to be a smile, remembering that the secret to remaining a goth savior involves feigning despair.

AFI Review at ChicagoTribune.com
http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/chi-0607100120jul10,1,5165715.story?ctrack=1&cset=true