"I sing in the choir"

There's a review up at OregonLive (can't get a direct link to the story working), which raves about the 2-hour-35-minute set I was lucky enough to see last night. Here's the heart of it:

"The Pearl Jam that played before a sold-out, 2,800-capacity crowd at the Schnitz showed that they should be measured against rock's greatest acts. Certainly, the 25-song set list - teetering thrillingly from anthemic chart-toppers such as 'Even Flow' to the reflective sing-along 'Love Boat Captain' to the raucous yet compact anti-Iraq war rocker 'World Wide Suicide' - proved that, at this moment, Pearl Jam is as good as a live rock act gets."

My friend Jann and I have talked about the magic of the "live music experience." For lack of a better term, that's the point at which a great concert cleanses and floods your mind all at once and you're absorbed with the music, the moment and - if you're lucky - the mayhem.

Like the line in "Do The Evolution" says, "There's my church, I sing in the choir. Hallelujah. Hallelujah."

Well, last night's perforance rattled my chest. It probably damaged my hearing. It left me hoarse. It swept me back through all the thoughts and emotions sewn into songs I've known and loved for 15 years. And hooked me on this band all over again. It did everything a great show is supposed to do, and then some.

I'm no man of great faith. But there's something spiritual about nights like that. Because on such special occasions, we forget, if only for a few hours, all but that which unites us.

Hallelujah, indeed.