Roll up, roll up for the big heavyweight alternative-rock battle at Rogers Arena!
In one corner, representing the naughties, Queens of the Stone Age, starring Josh Homme, a man whose musical stature allows him to front side projects with Dave Grohl and Led Zeppelin's John-Paul Jones. In the other, representing the nineties, Soundgarden, grunge pioneers whose front man, Chris Cornell, has returned to the rock fold after an ill-fated excursion into R&B pop.
Thank God.
It's hardly a fair fight. It is Soundgarden's show and crowd after all, and when the Queens take the stage for their support slot around 8:15 p.m. the Arena is still only half-full.
Anyone choosing a beer line over the Queens of the Stone Age is missing out. Crowded close together between Soundgarden's stage furniture, the Queens are up for the challenge of enlightening the ignorant and converting non-believers. Three tracks into their set and ‘Sick Sick Sick' sees pockets of Queens' fans erupting into dance around the arena. Twenty minutes later, as Homme finishes ‘Make It Wit Chu' and launches into ‘Little Sister', Rogers Arena is full and paying avid attention.
Homme is the focus. His on-stage persona, from the flick of his hips when he plays guitar to his casual conversations with the crowd, is effortlessly cool. Every inch of his six foot five frame screams rock star. His partner in awesomeness is drummer and Hulk-era Lou Ferrigno impressionist Joey Castillo, physically assaulting his kit on every song.
The performance climaxes with a devastating trio of ‘Go With The Flow', ‘No-one Knows' and a blistering ‘Song For The Dead', runaway train songs, propelled forward by their own energy. Fast, intense and mercilessly catchy, what was once a half-empty arena of apathy is full and delivering a standing ovation.
Soundgarden are up to the challenge of getting the crowd back on its feet. As soon as the house lights go down, they're up and cheering. Their reward is an opening salvo of ‘Searching With My Good Eye Closed' and ‘Spoonman'. Cornell can still hit the high notes. Drummer Matt Cameron, although hardly a physical specimen like Castillo, is technically perfect. Bassist Ben Shepherd jerks about awkwardly, hurling his low-slung bass around his torso and occasionally breaking into what looks like a goose step march. Lead guitarist Kim Thayil's wizardry is never in question.
This is a band with at least three albums that could be described as essential for anyone with an interest in heavy music. There isn't time to play all the classics from their tremendous back catalogue, so Rogers Arena has to make due with ‘Jesus Christ Pose', ‘Blow Up The Outside World', ‘My Wave', ‘Burden in My Hand', ‘Black Hole Sun', ‘Outshined', ‘Rusty Cage' and ‘Superunknown'. The air is punched. Heads are banged.
And yet, for a band with so many amazing songs at their disposal, the Soundgarden live experience is noticeably underwhelming. As an audio-visual spectacle, there isn't much to look at.
Thayil's stage presence is non-existent. A cardboard cut-out of the guitarist, assuming it could stand with its legs a full metre apart, would have filled his side of the stage equally well. Shepherd's bizarre movements drift from interesting to plain weird. Cornell's voice is so drenched in reverb it's hard to tell just how much of him the crowd is actually hearing. Above all, the four members of Soundgarden, all terrific players, never seem to click as band. The magic that turns great musicians into rock stars is noticeable by its absence.
Still, even though the judges would have awarded the alt-rock fight to the younger, leaner, faster Queens, the fans would probably have voted the other way. Nineties trumps naughties every time. Nothing beats the power of nostalgia.
