It Was The Best Gig Ever # 30: TOOL, Wellington 2002

An occasional series (at Off The Tracks) where I remind myself (and you) of the best gigs I’ve ever seen.

Early on in the life of this occasional series, I wrote about how Melvins opened for TOOL and all but blew them away.

And on some level, I still stand by that. I’d never seen an opening act give so much of themselves, nor seem to have so much disdain (so brilliantly channeled) for the main act’s crowd. I wrote that more to big up the Melvins than to shoot TOOL down. But I absolutely wrote that at a time when I couldn’t give a shit about TOOL at all.

It was hard to be a TOOL fan for a while there. I’m sure the analogy holds that they are sorta the Radiohead of the metal world. Those early albums making not a lot of sense now in the catalogue, the fans being so over eager as to put the more casual fans off completely…the art-rock of it easily falling over into wank.

Anyway, I find myself listening to TOOL again now for the first time in over a decade. And I’m digging it — big time. It might be a short trip of course, finite set of albums, and a quick run through them just might be enough. Thanks for the memories, etc.

But I made up a playlist of the songs TOOL played that night. They had three albums. And an earlier EP. Love that EP, but it was never going to inform the show.

It’s very much a Greatest Hits — for then. And hard to beat. And the spectacle of that night has definitely stayed with me, quite outside of the opening onslaught by Buzz and the Melvins. (Though that stays with me still).

TOOL was drinking music when you were a white, privileged male student in Wellington in the late 90s. And that was me. And then — as with Fight Club and a few other things (Bret Easton Ellis, the movie American History X), when any trace of satire or commentary seemed lost, and the audience it was all but mocking seemed to take place as the ‘key’ audience, I was out. Gone.

But, now I’m over that. And able to just tour back in time for a reminder of the music.

Ænema and Lateralus were the twin peaks of the band’s career — still are, really.

Anyway, back in 2002, I was still hoping to be a music writer. I was doing the job. A bit. But totally as a hobby. In 2001 I had this metal-head flatmate who begged me to try my best to get “us” tickets to Fear Factory. And I did. I managed it. I’d reviewed a couple of shows for the newspaper for the jazz festival, and I was regularly reviewing CDs. So I thought it was time to ask. And I received. We saw a pretty great Fear Factory gig, and I wrote it up. No worries.

A few months on, I’ve covered a few other gigs — an arts festival has been and gone, and I’ve agreed to take on whatever anyone else won’t touch, so I’m in the good books. I figure I can ask for tickets to review TOOL.

And I reconnect with my old flatmate for the gig — and he’s stoked!

I’m a Melvins fan already at this point, having seen them in Auckland a few years earlier, having loved their records too.

So, regardless, the show is going to be good. That’s my feeling going in. But also I really was into those first three TOOL albums, so I’m optimistic.

And, yeah, wow. It’s instantly amazing. The sound is one thing. The vibe of the band. Sure. But it’s the show — the element of spectacle. They have these contortionists writing from cables suspended way above the stage. Singer Maynard is basically in a Perspex cage — to stop the bottles that were being hurled on stage, or to at least protect him from that. (See earlier comment about overzealous fans…)

And so they alternate between the very best moments on Lateralus — the nearly brand new album of the time, and Ænema. Which is still holding up so very well.

We’re all waiting for Sober — which, weirdly, was one of the ‘drinking anthems’ of the time. And yes, mid-set, we get it! It arrives a couple of songs after Intolerance, also from the Undertow album. After that it’s just more of the twin graphic-design art-metal modern-prog albums. And the interpretive dancers twist and writhe from strings, and Maynard stomps and sways forward and back, forward and back, locked in a perpetual dance-stomp stutter. And the guitars are ominous, the bass is huge, and Danny Carey on the drums is reason alone to look past anything you might find underwhelming or pretentious about the band.

It’s a masterclass of its time.

And I don’t hold any desire to see them again, I don’t feel I missed out for not seeing them — or any of the side-projects, off-cuts, or versions, I wouldn’t go to a tribute band, I wouldn’t wish desperately to have this time again, or anything.

But it was a moment. And for the 90-100 minutes that they were on stage I can remember my mouth being a fly-trap. I just sat there, stunned. It was like a circus. And the heaving sway of the fans was something to be caught in, even if I didn’t quite want to identify as one of the brood.

Yeah, seeing TOOL in 2002 was the time to do it. And maybe they were better in 1998 or in 2010 or 2014 or 2020, but that’s not when I saw them. I saw them when I did. And I’m sure glad that happened.

It was pretty much the gig review that got me a permanent placement for about 15 years, covering anything and everything that flew into town. So that’s part of the lock on the memory too.