Smoke bombs, fans running through the aisles and an endless parade of bare breasts on the big screen – such things make for an odd measure of success, but these are the standards by which rock shows are judged. Ample doses of all three made Thursday's "B.F.D." event at Smirnoff Music Centre – hosted by "The Eagle" KEGL-FM (97.1) and starring Godsmack, Stone Sour and Powerman 5000 – an unqualified success for the near capacity crowd.
Powerman 5000 touted its new disc, Transform ("if you haven't already stolen it off the Internet," said single-named singer Spider). Songs such as "Action" sounded strong, boasting a fairly melodic base beneath the grind. Spider was clearly not opposed to suffering for his art: He wore a leather jacket, which would have withered a lesser man in the muggy heat.
Stone Sour is fronted by Slipknot singer Corey Taylor and has a self-titled disc, released in 2002, that's surprisingly tuneful. Live, the band had a definite groove, but its material didn't sound distinctive. Whether "Monolith," "Blotter" or "Get Inside," there prevailed a formula: big bluster, followed by an exchange of grinding music pitted against Mr. Taylor's voice. Guitars were a weak point, sounding like toys instead of fire-breathing electric instruments.
But Mr. Taylor was the focus. His efforts to be visually interesting consisted mostly of the old Metallica device of bending over and swinging his long hair in big circles, which he'd do to reinforce the chorus or mark the beat.
The big moment was "Bother," which appeared on SpiderMan: Music From and Inspired By. Mr. Taylor did an acoustic version, just him and the acoustic guitar, and he played it to the hilt. When the audience cheered, he poignantly placed his hand on his chest – a gesture that merely provoked more audience hurrahs. Guy's no dummy.
But such theatrics paled in comparison to the hammy, showboating, pyro-licious pageant dished out by the gobs of Godsmack.
The mission was to drum up sales of the new disc, Faceless; tracks such as "Changes" and "Straight Out of Line" were interspersed between radio hits such as "Keep Away." When the band stuck to that agenda, it made for an excellent rock show. Singer Sully Erna was a blue-collar hero in his work-shirt with the sleeves torn off, although the black-leather pants telegraphed his rock-star status. Charismatic and authoritative, he commanded the stage, enunciating his lyrics clearly, his perspiration showing how hard he was working.
But what a cheesy opening. A written message emerged on the big screen, appearing letter by letter, commanding American citizens to unite, support their troops, prevail and get stronger, and so on. Then came black-and-white video of soldiers, jets and bombs being dropped. Corny, manipulative and jingoistic? Uh huh. Yay, cheered the crowd.