Article Contributed by L. Paul Mann
Published on November 16, 2025
Elliot Easton (The Cars) | Fonda Theatre | Hollywood, CA | October 26, 2025 – photos by L. Paul Mann
On a crisp Sunday night in late October, Hollywood Boulevard hummed with the sound of purpose. The Fonda Theatre’s vintage marquee glowed in red and gold, announcing ABOVE GROUND 4 – A BENEFIT FOR MENTAL HEALTH. By the time doors opened, a long line had already snaked down the block. Inside, under chandeliers and art-deco molding, a sold-out crowd of rock lifers, young fans, and industry friends packed in close — gathering not just for music, but to unite behind a vital cause: raising awareness and support for mental health.
A Mission with Muscle
The Above Ground concerts, founded by Dave Navarro and Billy Morrison, have become something more than all-star jam sessions — they’re purposeful gatherings harnessing the power of live music to shine a spotlight on mental health. Each year, the pair choose two landmark albums to perform in full with rotating casts of legendary guests, channeling catharsis, remembrance, and hope into both the music and their mission.
For 2025, they chose two game-changers: New York Dolls (1973) and The Cars (1978) — records that reshaped rock in their own irreverent ways. Dave Navarro did not attend this year’s event, which had originally been postponed in January due to the devastating Southern California wildfires. Ongoing legal issues may have contributed to his absence from this year’s lineup.
Before the first note rang out, Morrison paused to remind the audience why they were all there. “We’ve lost too many,” he said quietly. “Tonight’s about joy — and survival. We gather to fight stigma and lift each other up.” The room answered with cheers, and the band kicked straight into the first set.
The opening riff of “Personality Crisis” hit like a sledgehammer. Corey Taylor tore into the song with punk ferocity, while Steve Stevens’ razor-sharp leads sliced through the Fonda’s acoustics. Billy Morrison anchored the whole thing on rhythm, his grin equal parts reverence and disbelief.
From there, a rotating cavalcade of rock royalty took over: Franky Perez snarling through “Vietnamese Baby,” Derek Day turning “Lonely Planet Boy” into a soulful howl, and Billy Idol swaggering through “Trash” like he’d written it himself. The crowd — already on its feet — roared as Marc LaBelle and Gilby Clarke traded licks on “Bad Girl” and “Subway Train.”
By the time Jesse Hughes strutted out for “Private World,” the room had transformed into a glam-punk revival tent. Taylor returned for a ragged, righteous “Jet Boy,” while Morrison and Stevens traded solos that brought the house down.
As the final chords rang out, the lights dimmed and the crowd stood in that rare silence that follows pure exhilaration. Then came the eruption of applause. The message was unmistakable: the Dolls’ sneer still mattered.
After a short DJ interlude by Moby, the stage reset gleamed with chrome, synth glow, and tighter production. This half of the night was all polish and pulse — the melodic yin to the Dolls’ feral yang.
Nuno Bettencourt opened “Good Times Roll” with clean, liquid lines so pristine they could’ve been lifted straight off the album. “My Best Friend’s Girl” followed, turning the Fonda into a shimmering time machine of harmonies and new-wave sheen.
Then came one of the night’s biggest peaks: Billy Idol’s blistering “Just What I Needed,” delivered as part parody, part perfection — all heart.
If the first two sets honored the past, the encore blasted into pure joy. Performer after performer rushed the stage for a super-jam that blurred genre lines with wild, infectious energy.
Rick Springfield and Nuno Bettencourt teased “Jessie’s Girl” before detonating “You Really Got Me,” joined by Billy Idol, Steve Stevens, and Morrison’s all-star band. Then came “Rebel Yell” — Idol in full command, Stevens at his side, both grinning like teenagers.
The night’s final stretch fused rock and hip-hop with thrilling precision:
B-Real tore into “Rock Star,” followed by DMC leading “It’s Tricky” and a thunderous “Walk This Way” finale. Morrison, Bettencourt, Freese, and Trudeau hammered out riffs that shook the Fonda’s rafters while the entire cast shouted, danced, and embraced like one extended family.
• Jessie’s Girl (snippet) – Rick Springfield, Nuno Bettencourt
• You Really Got Me – Springfield, Bettencourt, Billy Idol
• Rebel Yell – Billy Idol, Steve Stevens
• Rock Star – B-Real (Cypress Hill)
• It’s Tricky – DMC (Run-DMC)
• Walk This Way – DMC, Nuno Bettencourt
When the final crash hit, Morrison stood at center stage, visibly moved. “This,” he said, gesturing to the crowd, “is what happens when music lifts people up — above ground.”
What could have been a simple nostalgia trip became something far more powerful. The Fonda, with its 1930s charm and pristine acoustics, became a vessel for remembrance and renewal — proof that rock, in all its forms, can still unite and heal.
Above Ground 4 wasn’t just a concert; it was a reminder that music, when wielded with compassion, intention, and community, can still change lives. The night’s core message — breaking stigma, fostering connection, supporting mental health — rang through every chord.
In an industry built on noise, this was a night full of meaning — loud, luminous, and completely alive.
