Walking into the Ritz last Wednesday, the space grabbed you more than anything else – Not the crowd, the stage, or even the bands, but the fact that the normally well populated balcony was closed off, reserved only for AAA pass holders, which totally changed the room’s vibe from a photographers perspective. Usually, you could get great wide shots of the crowd or the whole stage, but not this time. Photographers and fans were all crammed onto the main floor, making everything feel tighter, more personal, and way more lively. I had to hunt for good angles, but all that energy had nowhere to go but up. It was like the Ritz was a pressure cooker, ready to explode.
Rubikon kicked things off with a bang. You could tell right away they knew what they were there to do: Get the place jumping for the next band, no messing around. Their sound is all about big guitars and that classic American hard rock feel. They filled the Ritz with so much confidence, it felt like they should’ve been headlining. No slow start, just straight into it. They are good because they know exactly who they are. They’re not trying to be some brand band thing. Those guitars were heavy, the rhythm locked in tight, and the singer had that real, lived-in voice. You could feel the crowd getting into it, realizing Rubikon wasn’t just going through the motions. They were there to get the party started, and they did. By the end of their set, the room was buzzing. People were relaxed, drinks were up, and everyone was paying attention. They did exactly what an opening band should: lit the fuse and got the crowd ready for what’s coming next.
And what’s next was none other than THE Michael Monroe, the most crazy guy glam punk/hair metal has ever known. Some bands bring energy, but Michael Monroe is on another level. From the second he hit the stage, he was a whirlwind. Spinning, jumping, kicking, swinging his mic stand like it was part of him. It wasn’t just a show; it was like he was powered by rockets. And he never slowed down, not for a second. Monroe acts like the stage is electrified and he’s the only one who can touch it. Every song was a chance to move, to connect, to get the crowd even wilder. And the crowd was right there with him. Hands in the air, voices loud, bodies dancing. Even with part of the place blocked off, he made sure everyone felt included. Actually, he went to them. The music was tight, loud, and gloriously rough around the edges. His band kept up with his energy, with riffs and rhythms that hit like a shot of caffeine. By the end, the room wasn’t just warm. It was on fire!
After the stage crew had loaded off kit from the Monroe set and were beavering away getting things ready for the headliners, Michael sneaked out at the side where I was just putting my camera gear away so I could queue at the bar unimpeded. He surprised the people in the restricted access area, posing for quick photos, chatting for a few minutes, and even handing out a goodie bag or two, before heading back as quickly as he’d initially appeared. I didn’t photograph it because I felt that this would have devalued a genuine heart felt gesture that felt both generous and entirely on brand for someone who has always blurred the line between performer and fan. It was a reminder that Monroe isn’t just a frontman, but a conduit. He channels the history of glam punk swagger, the spirit of Hanoi Rocks, and the raw joy of live music into something that feels immediate and personal.
Then Buckcherry came on, stepping into a crazy room and turning the party up to eleven. Rubikon started the fire, Monroe made it move, and Buckcherry brought the rock and roll show. Josh Todd is still one of the best frontmen around. His voice sliced through the music, and the band delivered a set that was all about groove and attitude. They know what their fans want: big hooks, big energy, and songs that are made to be screamed along to. The place felt like a party, not just a show. Buckcherry understood that. They were polished but raw, real but professional. Their songs were like explosions, with huge riffs and choruses, and that fun vibe that makes their shows so good. Even on the floor, everyone felt it was awesome.
Sadly, and with the reality of being on call this week forcing me back to my car as the last notes faded just in case my mobile rang out and work demanded my out of hours attention, my main thought for the night was how well the three bands fit together. Rubikon got things going, Michael Monroe got everyone moving, and Buckcherry made it one hell of a rock “n” roll spectacle. All three bands knew their job and nailed it.
Photos and Words by Gregg Howarth
