Creed pulled off one of the biggest comebacks in live rock history June 14 at the Fillmore in San Francisco. Trailing 9-0 before it even had a chance to bat against newcomer Fuel, the talk on the floor was that the upstarts from Florida were going to be upstaged by the Pennsylvania quartet.
As if that wasn't enough, there was also talk that Creed vocalist Scott Stapp was about to go on the disabled list, with a previous tour stop in Sacramento the night before having been cancelled due to dehydration. So much for talk. From the minute they hit the stage, after a tribal dance tape intro led into the delicate yet powerful Torn, Creed had the sold-out crowd in the palm of its hands.
The reaction afforded the group during its first-ever San Francisco appearance seemed to suprise even the band itself. From a hospital bed the night before, to a screaming, sweaty mob in one of the country's most famous halls just 24 hours later--that's pretty heady stuff, but Stapp and his mates handled the crowd with aplomb.
It became evident early on that the one guy the group couldn't have played without was the singer. Guitarist Mark Tremonti, bassist Brian Marshall and drummer Scott Phillips are exceptional musicians who you wouldn't know if one of them hit you with a car. Tremonti pushed powerful riffs behind the rhythm section, but it was Stapp who commanded the audienc'e attention from the outset. Coming off (and sounding like) a younger, thinner Eddie Vedder, Stapp pushed each song to new and better heights. When the main riff of Torn was first lit into, the roof nearly came off the refurbished hall. Ode, Pity For A Dime, Illusion, Unforgiven--it hardly mattered what was being played--the crowd knew every word to even the most obscure song. I could have sworn I saw someone down front singing the words to an unreleased new song that was being presented to this audience for the first time.
The guys in the band weren't the only ones suprised by the reaction of this young, excited mob. I was expecting a good show, but not one that I could hardly wait to get home and write about. It was quite exhilirating to witness the reaction to the set-closing epic My Own Prison, with its arena-ready chorus being shouted out at a volume much higher than the one being supplied from the stage.
Mayfield Four was most notable--their grinding, soul-filled rock lit the arena and those that made it to the show early--there were many--were treated to a performance from a band to watch out for. Fuel played a heckuva game, even though Creed clearly won the contest. The band played a 40-minute set of its best tunes, with Shimmer and Sunburn helping to push Creed to the great heights it reached. Remember the name Brett Scallions. Along with Creed's Stapp, these two singers have enough star-power to bring rock out of its deep sleep and actually provide some excitement from the stage. Both bands pushed each other to the brink, and that's what a good contest is all about, right?
