Gene - Rising For Sunset (2000)

Durante muchos años no me han gustado los discos en directo.
Siempre me han parecido falsos: suelen estar sobreproducidos,los aplausos del público apenas se deberían escuchar...

Por otra parte la mitad de los conciertos a los que vamos tienen la calidad de un "pirata"-voces ocultas por un bajo,que es lo único que se oye-lo cual amplifica la sensación de estafa de un disco en directo.Jamás vas a escuchar a tu grupo preferido con esa calidad.

Yo creo que es también un trauma infantil: Mi primer contacto con los discos en directo fue el "Alchemy" de Dire Straits.Quien haya escuchado este disco sabe a lo que me refiero.Y no sólo es que el grupo de Mark Knopfler ya de grima de por sí, si no que ,además, alarga los temas hasta la extenuación,provocando que la tortura sea doble.

Vamos, que era escuchar unos aplausos al principio de un disco para que los sudores fríos y las convulsiones comenzaran.
Esta sensación se fue mitigando con el paso de los años.Ahora puedo disfrutar de ellos pero tiene que haber una condición: que haya visto al grupo en directo.

A Gene los vi en la primera edición del Festival de Bencássim y lo recuerdo como un pedazo de concierto: exactamente igual que este.

Allmusic, dice:"What better time for Gene to release their first proper live LP? Having temporarily suffered a profile hit in the U.S., after A&M put the kibosh on the band's third LP, Revelations, why not head for Los Angeles and sell out three nights at the legendary Troubadour? And, with Gene's confidence in their on-stage proficiency obvious, why not pump the shows out via live webcast for the rest of the wired planet to hear, and release it as Rising for Sunset? Capital idea! They exhibit muscle some might be surprised by. Most of that is still down to guitarist Steve Mason's dexterity and aggression on his six strings, like the ghosts of young Weller, Marr, Townshend, and Marriott all in one player. But there can be no denying the band as a whole just "rises" to performing like it is their home-field advantage. Through it all, singer Martin Rossiter shines with the unusual conviction of such ultra-seriousness in such a natural ham. Bolstered so well by Kevin Miles' strident basslines and Mason's swelling chords on the chorus of "London Can You Wait," he not only manages the delicate balance of distress and distaste, but towers over his poignant words (the death of a loved one). The crowd shrieks as one incredibly well-developed melody meets another sparkling arrangement over such an array of styles, as demonstrated by the twinkling new tune, "Rising for Sunset." Overall, this feels more like a greatest-hits than a 14-song document of a typical live set. By the time the fifth song, "Mayday," closes, it's easy to conclude that this band should be hailed as the finest pop stylist in the world. The second half is surely no letup; that's when all the epics come right after another. It's almost too much to take, climbing three mountains in a row, going from "Speak to Me Someone" into "Olympian" into "You'll Never Walk Again." So how smart are they to tone it down for the final movement, the brand new "Somewhere in the World"? Yet even here, they can't help but leave you with one of the most heartbreaking ballads of torture, of horrible romantic loss, one could imagine. Even in their quietest moments, Gene can uproot your nervous system and draw you helplessly into their severe human dramas. Oh, the humanity!" by Jack Rabid