Melissa Auf Der Maur & Final Flash @ Cabaret Juste Pour Rire, November 6th, 2010

First things first: if your band has the word ''final'' in its name, it can't be a very good band. If it's Final Flash, you'd better make sure you either start or end with a bang or show some genitalia on stage, or else you'll be inviting puns and put-downs with open arms.

What I witnessed with this band is a very solid rhythm section, with the drummer leading the charge and the bass player following suit; the bassist, however, needs to work on his rock moves, because bobbing your afro-clad head maniacally only goes so far. Perhaps he should take a cue from The Lindbergh Line's Karl Leblanc, who has magical, wonderful poses. But that's where the good stuff ends. The keyboardist doesn't sound like he's part of the live mix at all, and the guitarist's wankey-yet-airy vibes were overshadowed by the boredom of the band's dark-jam-band sound. And then there's the singer... singing clichés and inanities, in this day and age, at least requires a spectacular voice, and not only does this guy not deliver - not even close - but he also does it in the thickest of French Quebecer's accents that demands all the attention and steals it from the rest of the music, pollutes it even. Their record is called 'Homeless', probably as a shitty metaphor for a touring band - but their songs lack so much in sincerity that it's an insult to all those who have actually suffered that plight.

And from there it can only go one of two ways: either the lead act will easily surpass its opener, or the whole evening will have been stained with filth and would have been better left alone.

I'm happy to say Melissa Auf Der Maur more than exceeded my expectations and delivered a major league, top-notch, no-holds-barred barrage of melodic fury showcasing at once a fierce attitude, grace, and the cutest local-girl shyness we weren't sure she still had in her.

Fronting a band of young'uns fresh recruited barely a week earlier - and whose rhythm guitarist looked like and pretty much played the part of Josh Homme - she led the show like a maestro, be it the sounds but also the light show and projections, which she collaborated on; my personal highlight was Meet Me On The Dark Side, which I featured as a Video Of The Week recently, but, in all honesty, every song was a highlight and expanded what the albums had presented as a sonic vision.

The only song I found a bit uncomfortable listening to was Father's Grave, sung live to a backing tape with Glenn Danzig's voice pre-recorded, but the rest of the crowd seemed to go nuts over it. Then again, I was at her father's funeral 12 years ago, so to hear Danzig singing ''I dug your father's grave'' repeatedly might affect me more than others, and I understand that.

All in all, not only did she save the night from being an utter failure, she made it one to remember in a venue that will shut its doors on December 31st. And if I don't end up going to Killing Joke in two weeks, I'm glad this is the last show I'll have seen there.

Word to the promoters, though: even if you are fucking one or more members of Final Flash, the legitimate hometown openers for this should/could/would have been either Priestess, Uncle Bad Touch, or Dead Messenger.

Photos courtesy of Amelia Robitaille/Meet You At The Show