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If the line of ticketless punters in front of Metro was anything to go by, the first Chicago appearance by the Mars Volta crossed the line from oversold gig to full-blown scene happening. While Sparta whet the public's appetite for At The Drive-In offshoots, everyone was waiting to see what the band's enigmatic, afro-wearing lead singer and guitarist had up their sleeves. Even a cross-town appearance by NYC press bonzos A.R.E. Weapons couldn't dull the furor surrounding Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez's first appearance on the Metro stage in nearly three years.
The evening began, loudly enough, with an ear drum-rupturing set by New Jersey rock pigs Rye Coalition. Tonight, Cuseglio and the kids toned down their bonkers AC/DC guitarnage in favor of a primal Led Zeppelin stomp that was more Physical Graffiti than Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap. The bulk of the crowd was still filtering in as the Coalition set about their business, but those already in attendance were split into two factions: those who came to rock and didn't give a fuck who was kicking out the jams, and those bored by the band's heads-down rock 'n' riffage. Truth be told, Rye Coalition didn't really fit on this particular bill, but their newfound "jam" element won over a decent percentage of the audience.
Round two of the cavalcade came in the form of writer/poet/musician Saul Williams. A low grumble was heard as Williams took the stage, unaccompanied and brandishing a book and several rolls of parchment paper. Hopes that full-throttle versions of tracks from his stellar Amethyst Rock Star would be heard tonight were dashed, but what followed was one of the most insightful, funny and thought-provoking spoken-word performances we've ever heard. Whether he was pointing fingers at the current governmental regime ("the powers that be can't ever defeat the powers of being"), lampooning the audience or reading excerpts from his forthcoming book, Said the Shotgun to the Head, Williams not only entertained the ever-growing throng, but had them captivated by set's end.
By the time the lights went down and the Mars Volta took the stage, the beyond-capacity crowd had been whipped into a mouth-foaming frenzy and the Metro was immediately transformed into the church of Bixler-Zavala. As the opening "Son et Lumiere" suddenly erupted into "Inertiatic Esp", the place exploded in a frenzy of flailing limbs and pointing fingers, Bixler's mic-tricks only adding to the fervor. By the time "Roulette Dares (The Haunt Of)" reached its apex, the crowd was evangelizing like madheads, screaming the hallowed refrain, "exoskeleton caught at the railroad delay" at the top of their lungs. We felt sorry for all of those poor souls stuck out on the sidewalk.
There was no stage banter tonight. The band played De-Loused in the Comatorium from start to finish with no song breaks and no affirmation of the jubilant crowd -- just unbridled resonant fury from beginning to end. The focus tonight was upon Cedric and Omar, but their supporting players truly shined as they stubbornly re-created the intricacies of De-Loused. Drummer Jon Theodore was the throbbing heart of the beast, pounding out hammering cadences one minute and harnessing the dexterity of a jazz drummer the next. Keyboardist Isaiah Owens provided the fresh blood pumping through that heart's valves -- a multi-textured explosion of melody, noise and passion. They didn't acknowledge the crowd, save for a quick wave at set's end, but it didn't really matter, the exchange of energy between group and audience was proof enough of the connection.
They were jazz without the pomp, punk without the pretense and gospel without the sermon, but above all else, the Mars Volta proved themselves to be electrifying, charismatic and very, very relevant.
Article by Jason Jackowiak
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