Toolin' Around: Tool Concert Review

Simon Marsello

I remember the day fondly. It was in the evening of Dec. 14, and the geniuses at Facebook’s marketing division finally decided to serve me up a semi-relevant sidebar ad. For once, rather than hawking the flavour-of-the-month Farmville imitator or peddling underpriced washer-dryer combos, this usually irksome service was tempting me with something fresh and unparalleled.

It seemed that Facebook was reimbursing me in some small way for thousands of hours spent trolling our generation’s bottomless social piss pit. My day had finally arrived; the ad proclaimed that Tool was coming to Toronto.

If this sounds melodramatic, it should. Let me backtrack for the benefit of the unfortunately uninformed. Formed in Los Angeles in 1990, this musical assemblage is best thrown somewhere under the umbrella of “progressive metal,” edging aside the high-flyers of the grunge era and burying itself somewhere in the part of the brain reserved for loveable cult bands.

My introduction to Tool was only two years ago, when I purchased their 2006 release 10,000 Days on a whim, a blind shot at a new musical pathway. My previous knowledge of Tool was limited to the label of “that stoner band,” and I was blown away. 10,000 Days fused pounding percussion and hopping bass with enchanting vocals and spacey otherworldliness.

Being entirely sold, I acquired what remained of their discography and embarked on full-tilt fandom. Checking their website every month or so for new tour dates and being repeatedly disappointed, the Dec. 14 revelation via Facebook required at least a triple-take. After confirming the ad’s legitimacy and amassing the few weird friends of mine that actually liked Tool, the tickets were in the mail.

Flash-forward to the concert date. We hurtled towards our destination, gunning down the QEW in my friend’s Mazda and blasting Tool tunes in anticipation. Barring overpriced parking and hellish crowds, the pre-show excitement chill set in. The Tool show served as a beacon for every outlier in a 20-mile radius: the stoners, the junkies and the freaks. I was home.

Filing through the established turnstile-and-pat-down custom, we raced to our seats as the powerful crash cymbals of opener “Hooker with a Penis” resonated through the stadium. Setting aside our mediocre view of the stage from section 306, we took our place amidst the thrashing mob and followed suit.

As the band segued neatly into eight-minute epic “Jambi.” Lighters flicked in chorus and the ensuing weed smoke began to wind its way around the dome. Mid-set, Tool ripped through early-period favourite “Sober,” prompting my buddy’s obligatory, “Dude, is this fucking awesome or what?” And indeed, it was.

Jumping from album to album, Tool took us on a musical journey coupled with stunning backdrop visuals reminiscent of their award-winning album art. Vocalist Maynard James Keenan, pied piper of this unlikely personality cult, conducted his sinister orchestra from the back of the stage, gripping the mic with conviction as he bore his demons before the hungry masses. It was totally sweet.

When the cheers subsided, the lights came up and it finally became apparent that the boys of Tool would not be joining Toronto for a second encore, I trudged out of the stadium, feeling somewhat short-changed. My wish list of songs was nowhere near fulfilled.

But looking back, the energy delivered by the band was phenomenal. Each tune was nailed perfectly, and despite the relative lack of intimacy offered by the cavernous Air Canada Centre, the ticket was worth every penny.

Whether you like Tool or not, my feeling at that show is something to which even the casual music fan can relate; spending an evening with one of your favourite bands is always something to be cherished.