Review: Trans-Siberian Orchestra 12-4-24 Concert in Austin
What’s Christmas without a TSO show? The might, bravado, pizazz, power, and reputation that TSO brings each time they perform is strong enough to create a magnetic pull on all fans of metal and rock to regroup and re-attend one of their shows each holiday season if possible.
While I was thrilled to take in the spectacle I have seen half a dozen times already, I was blown away by the differences I saw and felt. For starters, this year’s tour was the return (and 20th anniversary celebration) of The Lost Christmas Eve. I’d gotten so used to Christmas Eve and Other Stories that I expected the same again. I love that “Old City Bar” blues number and heart-warming story about a girl getting back home to her family thanks to a bartender’s generous heart.
When I saw a new a different stage setup, I figured it was just the eye candy and window dressing for the old, familiar tunes. I should have known better. I was experiencing the Lost Christmas Eve tour and theme that hadn’t been performed since 2013.
My formerly lost and now recently recovered TSO interview with founder Paul O’Neill in my new book (Rock Stars on God, Volume Three) seemed to divinely prepare me for a most wonderful experience on this night. What O’Neill had told me about the band’s efforts to make music that could stand alone without lyrics, and lyrics that could stand alone without music, and then the surpassing oomph and deeper impact of prose … all this came together as I was keenly aware of how the narration set the tone and the moment for the emotional stories told. Instead of just piecing or patching the songs together and giving them context, they took us deep into the story.
The plot plays out over the course of a few songs. The story reveals a bitter old businessman wandering New York City. Once a rising star, he’d traded love, family, and joy for a life of solitude and regret. The tragic loss of his wife hardened his heart, pushing him away from his infant son and into decades of isolation.
This man had fallen in love, got married, and was about to become a family with the birth of their child. There were complications, though, which cost the mother her life and the doctors told him that these complications would keep his son from leading a normal life. “He’ll never talk, he probably won’t ever walk, etc.” All this overwhelmed the man and he left the hospital, signing papers to give his son as a warden of the state, and walking away forever.
As a member of the audience, wowed with lasers, intelli-beams piercing the fog, fake snow, electrifying jams from electric guitars and violins, I was deeply saddened and impacted by the dark and coldness of this tragic story. “How could a man do this?” My heart sank. I was being guided on a journey that extracted pain to get to any hope of joy.
Then, a chance encounter with a mysterious girl led this hopeless and aged man to a life-altering phone call. His son, who he abandoned decades ago, was alive!
As a normal concert-goer on an early winter night, it mattered to me that I sensed resolution in the story.
His son grew up with many of the predicted limitations and handicaps predicted, but he was a gentle soul caring for troubled newborns in a maternity ward. After seeking him out, the son gives a silent and forgiving gaze to his long-lost father. As they sit together, comforting innocent infants, a new reunited life together begins.
This touched me deeper than all the bells and whistles.
The bells and whistles, though, were spectacular and thrilling. Behind us appeared a multi-octave opera singer belting her heart out inside a giant snow globe. Flames danced around a cool TSO logo. Guitar players and electric violinists ran through the aisles on the floor, they tied themselves to risers that hydraulically lifted them nearly 30 feet in the air, not missing a lightning-fast riff.
And the singers. Each one brought an ovation-stirring performance. The band rocked as if still trying to prove its relevance.
Many of the TSO standards, like “Wizards of Winter,” “Christmas Eve (Sarajevo 12/24),” “This Christmas Day,” and “Requiem (The Fifth)” were delivered with energy and gusto. These were juxtaposed with so many “wow” moments of soaring voices that it was hard to count. The talent on display gets attention that competes with, rests from, but dynamically marries the bombastic and high energy moments. “Not What You See” is an example of this. A simple voice in front of a full moon image does as much as the whole machine when it’s firing on all pistons.
I was also blessed in another dimension with the many references to Jesus the Christ child, which happened early on in “O Come All Ye Faithful / O Holy Night.”
I never doubted for a minute, but I still get impressed each time that TSO delivers such a great show.
By the way, the fake snow is made out of diluted soap. It doesn’t taste too bad.
Photos by Jason McEachern and Bob Carey.
About Author
