From the opening strains of Tool's 1992 EP Opiate to the final screams on their latest release, Ænima, it's apparent that this is no band to be taken lightly. I wasn't sure, then, what to expect in a live performance from a group whose central themes revolve around anger, self-hatred, intellectual independence and anal-sex-as-metaphor. Would they thrash around onstage with Bacchanalian glee like Crash Worship? Would they spew blood and guts like GWAR? As it happens, none of the above was the case. The singularity of intent which follows through Tool's music like a golden barb was alive and well at Monday night's show, holding Tool's members in postures of stoic grace as their intense sounds flowed from within.
Opening with "Stinkfist," the first track on Ænima, Tool came together like the powerhouse they are. Phrases like "Finger deep within the borderline/Show me that you love me and that we belong together/Relax, turn around and take my hand" were given due force as Maynard James Keenan's exacting vocals rose high above the crashing guitars and throbbing rhythms. "Stinkfist" was followed by "Forty-Six and 2," creating a link between the twisted trust of the former song and the self-pitied introspection of the latter.
The show combined much of the material from the new album with works from 1993's Undertow, including "Intolerance" (introduced sardonically by Keenan as "an oldie") and MTV favorites "Sober" and "Prison Sex." "Sober" was treated with an extended intro that drew itself up from primal drumming and tendrils of scraping feedback to a variation on the theme riff which sounded as though it'd been dosed with Seconal and left in bright sunlight. During the a capella portion, the entire audience was singing along to its signature lines: "I am just a worthless liar/I am just an imbecile/I will only complicate you/Trust in me and fall as well." It was a chilling chant for the '90s, far beyond the angst created by Seattleites or industrial spin-offs.
"Prison Sex," too, featured a bit of reworking, including a new bridge which featured lines like, "Show me something new/Thought I could wash the stains away." Next came "Jimmy," which was described as "kind of a sequel to 'Prison Sex.'" Both deal with traumatic childhood; while "Prison Sex" broaches the subject of father-on-son child abuse, "Jimmy" is about a man's struggle to reach the boy inside him who has been isolated by painful experiences. Indeed, the two worked tightly together as a single element, the bouncy melody of "Prison Sex" slowing down and twisting to shape "Jimmy"'s frame before wandering off into new, melancholy undertones.
While some of Tool's work was best highlighted by such juxtapositions, other songs spoke loud and clear on their own. "Hooker with a Penis," for instance, dealt with accusations of "selling out" with tightly-focused rage through layers of choppy guitars and stomping bass and drums. It was a moment to make Pantera's Phil Anselmo hang up his tattoos and go home. But the prize moment came when Tool launched into "Ænema," which pleads with the Goddess for a huge earthquake to knock California into the Pacific Ocean. The song's enigmatic humor and almost-poppy feel were a perfect (and practically upbeat) ending to Monday's concert.
Tool's performance was extremely tight -- Keenan, guitarist Adam Jones, drummer Danny Carey and bassist Justin Chancellor work together like puzzle pieces, all wavy edges but no gaps. In a sense the performance was too tight; live shows thrive on improvisation, serendipity and silly accidental noises, but Tool's set lacked in the way of surprises. I had been hoping for more of a spontaneous feel, something to reveal new elements in Tool's music which are hidden by studio production, but no such animals existed onstage Monday night.
While this outcome wasn't exactly disappointing, it left me feeling slightly gypped -- perhaps for coming to a performance by rock's leading ragemeisters and coming home without a scratch on me. However, this is only the beginning of a nationwide tour, and perhaps with time the band will begin to toy with the new numbers as they have with their older material. After all, Tool is an inventive and ever-present band whose perspectives are miles ahead of anyone else's music, and the only way to stay on top is to preserve the constancy of change.
This article was originally published in Addicted to Noise.