Ten years ago this week the world of rock suffered one of its greatest tragedies when a deranged fan murdered ex-Pantera guitarist ‘Dimebag’ Darrell Abbott and three others at a concert in Columbus, Ohio.

By that point Pantera had disbanded, their arena-filling metal power dissolved in a war of words and acrimony. A decade later, that band’s vocalist Phil Anselmo, if not a changed man, is a more reflective one. His written tribute to his one-time friend in Rolling Stone unveiled a broad crack of humility in a performer whose musical persona has been wrapped in unwavering, never back down, never apologize masculinity for over 25 years. Truly, the Ernest Hemingway of heavy metal.

All of which made the arrival of Down, Anselmo’s major artistic venture for the past decade, at a packed Commodore Ballroom in Vancouver last night that much more fascinating.

If this was a week for mourning, this wasn’t a night for quiet contemplation. This was a celebration of life, the band exploding onto the stage with a ferocious opening salvo of “Eyes of the South” and “Witchtripper.” Anselmo made a point of toasting his fallen friend at the first opportunity, dedicating “Lifer” to “Our brother, Dimebag Darrell.”

Anselmo’s claim that Abbott had made him a warmer human being was slowly revealing itself as the songs and links passed. Although you’d have to listen closely to notice it beyond the screams and the scowl.

“They held us up for four hours at the f***in’ border,” he moaned as part of his lengthy introduction to “Ghosts Along the Mississippi, before being distracted by a pair of bare breasts proudly displayed by a female crowd surfer. “I’m not touching them. Believe me I’d love to… Now sing along with the old man!”

The band was lapping up the fun, pulling poses and flinging hair and beards with glorious abandon. With several lifetimes of metal experience between them, they somehow combined advanced musical dexterity while maintaining the looseness of a bunch of friends getting together to drink beer and play rock and roll. Which, in essence, is exactly what Down is: a point made eloquently by a less-than-coherent cover of David Essex’s forgotten pop groove “Rock On.”

Down might not take themselves seriously these days, but their music still resonates with gravitas. “Hogshead Dogshead” and “Lose It All” reenergised the mosh pit with punishing heaviness.

“We’re cute, we’re fast, and we’re hot,” nodded Anselmo with a hint of an ironic smile as he led the band off stage before the encore. “We love you! Y’all want to hear more you know what to do. I need a cigarette.”

The band returned two minutes later, Anselmo armed with a lit cigarette and a nearly empty bottle of white wine, before launching into a brilliant “Stone The Crow” (still the greatest example of the yet-to-be-mined country-metal genre) complete with audience sing-along, and a version of “Bury Me In Smoke” that concluded with support acts King Parrot and Orange Goblin snatching Down’s instruments from them, leaving the band free to shake hands with the crowd while the music continued.

Dimebag Darrell may have left us, but his spirit lives on. Messy, sweaty, noisy and funny, Down just delivered probably the most exhilarating night of rock and roll Vancouver has seen this year.