Sully Erna of Godsmack at the Hammerstein Ballroom, 12/4/99, photo © 1999 NY Rock

Of course being the highly paid, big-deal "critic" that I am, I jauntily loped up the stairs and attempted to get one of those comfortable seats in the VIP balcony section – no go. I was kicked back down where I belonged.

Godsmack didn't take any chances and opened with their hit "Whatever." The crowd rose to the occasion, screaming back the radio-worn lyrics and sending the band on an hour-long set that was consistent if not always inspired.

Maybe it was the acoustics of the Hammerstein, a place designed as an opera house, but Robbie Merrill's bass and Tommy Stewart's drums thundered like a deep-house dance mix. For guitar geeks like myself, Tony Rombola's wah-drenched six-string was sorely missed.

Sully Erna, Hammerstein Ballroom, 12/4/99, photo © 1999 NY Rock

Gear-head, the-mix-wasn't-right, bitching aside though, these guys clearly had a handle on their set, showing their live show adds to their sometimes mediocre material. On CD they sound derivative: Metallica to Alice in Chains – but, with touring, frontman Sully Erna seems to be slowly finding his own voice, sounding more like himself than a practiced imitation of his heroes.

In the middle of the show Erna eyed the pit and thought about heaving himself out there. He said, "You guys, you guys right there down in front, if I dive out there are you fucking gonna hold me up?" Didn't sound like he had much confidence in his fans. Maybe if he had a little more faith, let it hang out, the support – in general – would have been more palpable. That was the thing – they played their set, played it pretty well, but in the end they played it safe.

For what it's worth, here's a blow-by-blow description of the full concert experience according to yours truly:

THE BAND

ONE excellent Tito Puente imitation by Sully Erna who banged on timbales during a drumming duel with Tommy Stewart. They thankfully backed off before heading into a full-on Grateful Dead space-jam. Maybe it's because Erna is a drummer that he, as a front man, understands how to keep the band sounding tight, together and practiced.

ONE Zeppelin-worshipping Godsmack guitarist – Tony Rombola – who summoned the spirit of Jimmy Page while stroking his ax with a violin bow during the band's trancy psychedelic sound-scape excursion. (Don't argue with me, Page IS dead.)

TWO giant devilish gargoyle statues on stage that made Sully Erna's commitment to Wicca seem like a marketing ploy even though it probably isn't and is a genuine belief being exploited by his label.

TWO pentangle things on stage that made Sully Erna's commitment to Wicca seem like a marketing ploy even though it probably isn't and is just being exploited by his label.

FOUR THOUSAND watts of power to drive Robbie Merrill's bass. Who knows if it was the PA, his own rig or what, but at one point his thundering low E threw my large intestine into a square knot... in a good way.

FOUR members of Godsmack who showed that they can play and make their music sound far better than their CD. Nothing to be sniffed at in a world where people become over-paid superstars without being able to carry a tune.

THE CROWD

ONE loser in a bad suit who was never even let into the show because he was way too polluted, but attempted numerous times to crawl under police barricades in that annoying "I'm an important agent" way that only gets you in more trouble.

ONE even greater loser who left above mentioned loser puking on his shoes and went to the show without him even though he was his "friend."

ONE dancing super-fine vixen who shot potent, unwavering, sex vibes my way. Her seven-foot boyfriend quickly created a human wall around her.

ONE obnoxious poseur in a full black latex outfit who almost died of heat exhaustion.

ONE funny homemade T-shirt: "Will work for head." Worn by scraggly, fat, bearded dude with Coke-bottle glasses.

ONE quaint rebel T-shirt: "Distrust all authority." Worn by skinny punk chick who was very sweet to a lady pouring drinks and gave her a huge two-dollar tip for the five-dollar cup of beer.

THREE very tan guys lounging in the balcony who were clearly, somehow, making a lot of money off the whole shebang.

TWO menacing biker guys in their fifties hitting on two blond teenage beauties.

TWO terrified boyfriends of above mentioned beauties who tore beauties away from bikers just as they were about to partake in bikers' "special space weed."

ONE pair of large black work-boots left in the post-concert pile of garbage that a security guy took for himself.

TWO very pretty pony-tailed girls with glitter on their faces scrounging for change in the post-concert garbage.

EIGHT crushed baseball hats left in the post-concert pile of garbage.

ONE pitiful NY Rock reporter picking through the post-concert pile of garbage for a baseball cap in decent shape.

FIVE girls doing a very bad job of trying to get back stage after the show with the line, "Oh, Pam left her purse back there."

TWO sets of parents anxiously waiting for their kids outside after the show who finally showed up crimson-eyed and loopy.

THREE THOUSAND very happy Godsmack fans.

ZERO NY Rock reporters getting laid.

December 1999