Cheap Trick: all alright

“We’re the best Cheap Trick cover band out there,” Rick Nielsen says with a laugh. “probably the worst, too.”

It’s Friday night and I’m sitting backstage at Avalon next to Cheap Trick guitarist Rick Nielsen. I’m not wearing my Trick t-shirt, and this egregious violation of proper concert attire does not bode well. As I reveal the black polo shirt hidden beneath my jacket, a disappointed Nielsen responds, “Oh, weak.”

I should have known better. When you go to a Trick show you’re supposed to wear your colors, as doing so proves you’re a part of a family united by a truism that continues to be so tragically overlooked:

Cheap Trick still fucking rocks.

With Robin Zander’s indelible voice, the orchestral thrum of Tom Petersson’s 12-stringed bass, Bun E. Carlos’ driving backbeats, and the bluesy mad-scientist leads of Rick Nielsen, there is no more complete concert experience than Cheap Trick. And their November 17 show at Avalon was no exception.

According to Nielsen, last Friday’s stop in Boston was the band’s 5,051st show, their third in as many nights. But there is little indication of the wear and tear one would expect to see from a rigorous touring schedule spanning the better part of three decades. “I like to play,” Nielsen says while trying to define his motivation to perform every night. “The traveling kinda blows though.” He claims the foursome is merely “too dumb to quit,” but the members of Cheap Trick simply love what they do, and it shows.

It did on this night. From the opening chords of “Hello There,” probably the greatest concert-opening song ever written, the band rarely allows you time to catch your breath. They traverse a characteristic set-list of pop opuses like “I Want You To Want Me” and “Dream Police,” while also showcasing their acerbic side with cuts like “Big Eyes” and a scorching rendition of “Auf Wiedersehn.” Interspersed through the set are tracks from the band’s latest album Rockford, which was released June 6. It’s a delicate balance of catchy hooks and gut-busting distortion that only gets better with time.

To the untrained ear, these shifts within the temporal framework of the Trick catalog are completely unnoticeable. Rockford’s “Welcome to the World” and “If It Takes a Lifetime,” feel concurrently new and familiar, not like between-hits filler, as new material so often does.

“We’re the best Cheap Trick cover band out there,” Nielsen says with a laugh, “probably the worst, too.”

Throughout the show, the band adroitly walk the line – as they always have – between arena-rock showmanship and garage band simplicity, part untouchable-rock-gods, part just-happy-to-be-playing-at-this-year's-block-party. While there are clear holdovers from a decadent, larger-than-life ’70s sensibility (Nielsen’s five-necked guitar, Zander’s lace-up leather pants), they’re subverted by other characteristics that remind us they’re still, at heart, just regular guys who love rock ’n’ roll for rock ’n’ roll’s sake.

“We’ve made every mistake known to man and musician,” Nielsen admits, “but our mistakes are great.” And like most of the jocular assertions he makes from behind his sunglasses tonight, this one too proves somewhat prophetic. At one point in the show, the power cuts out on his aforementioned, five-necked hydra of an instrument, and the band continues for eight bars with only a rhythm section. After a few moments of fruitless air-guitar and unadulterated pick throwing (guitar picks are Rick’s “business cards,” and, as in a true band of the people, he tosses dozens into the audience every night), life returns to the mammoth ax without the show suffering any loss of momentum.

As they close with their signature “Goodnight,” a lyrical re-working of “Hello There,” they unite in a series of fermatas that serve to punctuate the whole experience with several aural exclamation points. I get the sense that, like the ravenous crowd, Cheap Trick simply refuses to let go of this moment, milking every last overdriven wavelength to its fullest potential. And for at least a few more seconds, as they put it in the outro to their perennial sing-a-long “Surrender,” “We’re all alright.”