Carnival of Sins: Live

Early into this two-DVD set, Nikki Sixx informs the assembled Crüeballs that, out of all the places in the greater goddamned universe they could've shot the Red, White and Crüe tour, the band chose Grand Rapids. The band's last live DVD (the Tommy Lee-free Lewd, Crüed and Tattooed) was shot in (wait for the yawn) Utah and featured a chick drummer — from Hole, no less. So for old school Crüe fans, this live set had a carnival of sins to atone for.

Yet despite constant reinforcements that "yoo motherfuckas are insane," you fans really didn't do anything too out of the ordinary. You capitulate to Tommy Lee's tittie cam, you unceasingly make the devil horn sign, and you pipe up whenever lazy Vince points a mike at you. I was hoping you'd go the extra mile, maybe punch out a security guard, rip up some seats ala Slade circa '74, but since you're mostly over 30, you save your real lunacy for the insanely overpriced VIP package (see behind the scenes bonus disc). About the craziest of your sins shown here is a stone-faced accountant type who holds aloft a loose-leaf sign that reads "Hand Me a Pick." That's got to be the height of civility, right up there with "Pass the Grey Poupon." What's on the other side of that sheet — "Let me do your taxes, Mick"?

Since Carnival captures the band early into the tour, Vince hasn't yet fallen off the stage, forgotten the words to songs or cursed out the audience. So, uh, maybe this isn't a representative show. Despite a TV rock star makeover, Vince still lumbers across the stage like a constipated sanitation worker. Even newly hipped Mick Mars is more animated — and he looks like a stop action skeleton from Jason and the Argonauts. Other special effects include enough flame shooters to give Great White nightmares plus fire-eating strippers and water shooting midgets for the band's Yankee colonization of "Anarchy in the UK"—don't know what effect this all will have on Britain's remaining in the Coalition of the Willing. And then there's that ridiculous effect where the band and audience fragment into millions of color mosaic squares and stop time — no, wait, that's my DVD player. Shit, I've had to wipe my disc three times and it's brand-new. These Mötleys truly are the original dirty white boys!

Serene Dominic writes about music for Metro Times. Send comments to [email protected].