A thunderous blues-rock eruption that proves raw power never needs an era to belong
When Mountain stormed onto late night television in 1992 to perform “Mississippi Queen” on The Dennis Miller Show, it was more than a nostalgic callback. It was a reminder that true rock power does not age, dilute, or politely fade away. Originally released in 1970 on Mountain’s debut album Climbing!, the song had famously peaked at number 21 on the US Billboard Hot 100, securing its place as one of hard rock’s most enduring statements. More than two decades later, this rare television appearance captured Leslie West, Corky Laing, and Richie Scarlett reigniting that same explosive force under the bright lights of a short-lived talk show format that was barely equipped to contain them.
What makes this performance remarkable is not just its rarity, but its sheer intensity. A visibly slimmer Leslie West steps onto the stage with focus and fire, his presence stripped of excess and sharpened by experience. From the opening riff, “Mississippi Queen” hits with its familiar thunder, yet there is nothing routine about it. West’s guitar tone remains unmistakable, thick, snarling, and saturated with blues grit. His playing is concise but ferocious, every note carved with intent rather than indulgence. This is a musician who knows exactly who he is and has nothing left to prove.
The song itself has always been a masterclass in economy and attitude. Built on a swaggering riff and driven by Corky Laing’s relentless drumming, “Mississippi Queen” channels raw desire, danger, and bravado into a compact, unstoppable force. In this 1992 performance, the song feels leaner but no less dangerous. The years have not softened it. If anything, they have sharpened its edge. Richie Scarlett locks in tightly, adding muscle without clutter, reinforcing the sense that this is a band operating on instinct and trust.
One of the most striking visual elements of this performance is Leslie West’s use of a Steinberger P series guitar, an instrument rarely associated with him. Its compact, almost toy-like appearance creates a fascinating contrast with the massive sound pouring from the speakers. In West’s hands, it becomes clear that tone does not live in wood or shape alone. It lives in touch, phrasing, and authority. Even with an unconventional instrument, his voice on guitar remains unmistakable, thick as molten iron and just as dangerous.
The performance concludes with a moment of unintentional comedy as West casually makes his way onto the host’s couch, blurring the line between performer and set piece. The contrast between the band’s volcanic intensity and the show’s ironic, cerebral tone only amplifies the absurdity. It is rock and roll crashing headfirst into talk show artifice, and winning.
This appearance stands today as an extraordinary artifact. Not just a rare clip, but a document of authenticity. “Mississippi Queen” on The Dennis Miller Show is proof that Mountain was never about trends or polish. It was about volume, conviction, and the refusal to behave. Watching it now, one is reminded that some songs do not belong to the past. They simply wait for the right moment to roar again.