I haven't been beaten up that bad since 2-a-day football practices during my freshman year, before I got booted from the team after they realized that my GPA was a negative number. Queens Of The Stone Age dished out a brutal one hour and forty minute sonic shit storm, complete with a pair of whopping encores, all over the faces of 3,000 fearless head bangers at the Metro in Chicago. Dave Grohl and Mark Lanegan joined Josh Homme and Nick Oliveri for "the best show on the entire tour" according to singer Josh Homme, "and I ain't just saying that 'cuz I'm high as fuck neither."
C-Minus, the genre swapping DJ from Korn and radio host on Los Angeles' Power 106, smacked down a floor thumping mix comprised of N.W.A., Metallica, Outkast, Foo Fighters and others. The stage cleared, the lights went out, and the beer drenched, smoke-soaked natives got rowdier than Roddy Piper.
"This show is dedicated to Dee Dee Ramone," declared bassist Nick Oliveri, while taking a pull from his beer. The shirtless baldy, dressed only in white trash tattoos, stated for the record "we're Queens Of The Stone Age," before jumpstarting into "Monster In The Parasol."
Dave Grohl only lasted one song before taking off his shirt, as the turbo-charged set wasted no time segueing into "Feel Good Hit Of The Summer." I have seen Grohl perform with Nirvana in 1993, Foo Fighters in 1996, and now with QOTSA in 2002, and I'll be damned if he ain't the baddest drummer on the planet at the moment.
Now I may be gay, wait, no I'm not, but if I were, I would have to say that Josh Homme is one sexy motherfucker. The statuesque singer enkindled a raging blaze of new fires that seemed to die out after four or five minutes, only to re-ignite for another two to three minutes of roaring madness. Mark Lanegan provided vocals for a handful of ass-ripping new hell raisers from Songs For The Deaf, which the audio handicapped will have to share with their non-hearing impaired brethren on August 13.
Although many favorites from the cult classic Rated R were omitted from the earth shattering slaughter ("Auto Pilot," "Better Living Through Chemistry"), the all-star quintet went back to their roots of their self-titled debut, and even played a ten-year-old treasure that was dug up specially for the gig. "We never play the god damn thing, so here goes," quipped Josh Homme, as he spit out yet another lit cigarette that he didn't have the time to enjoy. I apologize and hate myself for not knowing more of the song titles but feel extremely special and a little more important than you since I witnessed this amplified apocalypse and you can only read about it. The emotional and physical inferno of sound finally ceased with "The Lost Art Of Keeping A Secret."
The evening felt like as if a swarm of bees were striking me in the face, as I stood with my head hanging out of the sunroof of a luxurious limousine, flying at the speed of light down the autobahn, being chased by every police officer alive, on the verge of breaking the sound barrier, right before a bridge slices my head off, knocking it back 100 feet.
Thanks for breaking up Kyuss...I owe you one.
Source: Jason Anfinsen