Every one should know by now that Chickenfoot is the "supergroup" consisting of Chad Smith (Red Hot Chili Peppers), Sammy Hagar (Van Hagar, Montrose), Michael Anthony (Van Halen, Van Hagar), and Joe Satriani (Chickenfoot). The band did a small warmup tour concentrating on very small clubs to road test the material and gage public reaction. Mostly, over seas dates, with only a handful of U.S. dates. Philadelphia was lucky enough to be the final tour stop.

The show sold out in minutes and we used the power of dick sucking to nab two tickets. Even in this economy, it's nice to know some things didn't lose their barter price. Cock sucking for tickets is still one of them.

The show started at 8:30, even though Live Nation said 9:00. Didn't matter to most people because they were waiting outside the venue six hours before the show. The excitement was building, the people were drinking, and South Street was getting dirtier...nah that isn't possible.

Dennis Brannan opened the show. He was one man with an acoustic guitar who looked like the sex slave of Tom Waits and Bob Dylan. He had a Bob Dylan like sound, but something was lacking...oh yes, Bob Dylan's talent. After two songs the novelty of his act wore off and I had wished I started to pan the crowd.

The crowd was mostly older men, some females...not many. Most sported tee-shirts in favor of Cabo Wabo (Sammy Hagar's tequila) or The Other 1/2 (reference to the tour Anthony and Hagar did together). It was obvious most were there to see the duo. The odd thing was I was 20 years younger than them and there to see the other half of Chickenfoot, Chad Smith and Joe Satriani.

Dennis Dylan-Waits was off stage 20 minutes longer than he should have been at exactly 9:00. Live Nation was probably trying to spare you the torture when they advertised a 9:00 show start. If you arrived at 9:00, you'd only have to wait a half hour for Chickenfoot, who came on at 9:30 on the dot.

The stage design was minimal, only a Chickenfoot banner hung in the background. I wasn't expecting a stage show, hell I didn't want one. Each of these guys were good enough to wow me with just their performance.

Chad Smith was first out and started banging the hell out of the drums. Chad was wearing a Detroit Red Wings shirt and I thought he might get murdered being brazen enough to wear that in Philly. He survived. Joe Satriani followed him with a finger tapping, light opening as he played a Chickenfoot emblazed signature Ibanez guitar. Michael Anthony followed Satriani and the crowd went wild. He had a matching Chickenfoot emblazed bass. Finally the Red Rocker, Sammy Hagar appeared and the band busted into their opening song.

This caused a slight problem for this reporter...I don't know any fucking songs from this band. Their CD isn't out until June 5. So I had to grab the name of the song based on the chorus or if Sammy remembered to tell us. I think the first song was called Borderline. It is a hard rocking, guitar shredding, fist pumping anthem.

This is a good time to bring up the sound. It was impeccable. It was the best money could buy. There was no feedback, all instruments were perfectly balanced. I could hear every note and every word out of Sammy's mouth. It was an arena sized sound in a 600 seat venue.

The first thing that amazed me was how hard Chad played his drums. He beat the hell out of them like he was their pimp and they owed him money. Hard, deliberate smacks, reassuring those skins he was their boss and master. He didn't let up either, that style of play sustained him throughout the hour and 45 minute show.

If you are going to play that hard, you need a bassist who can keep up. There is no better bassist best suited for Chad's hard hitting, than a man who played with monkey man Alex Van Halen. Michael Anthony is impressive. Not only can he slap and pick the bass like I slap my cock and pick my nose, but he also is the perfect background vocalist. Anthony's vocals helping augment Sammy's screeching tones and giving an arena sized sound to the vocals.

Satriani is, without a doubt, a guitar virtuoso. At one point during the night he was bending one string, tapping another, sliding another all while moving up and down the fret. I saw him before, but I was way back and couldn't see his finger movement. I couldn't see or understand how he was getting the sounds out of the guitar that he was. Now having seen him up close, I am still mystified. He was the wild card, I knew the others could work in a dynamic of a band and work with egos, I just didn't know how Satriani would take to being just the lead guitarist in a band full of super talents. I don't know why I wondered, he enjoyed himself and still left his signature mark on the band.

Sammy is Sammy. You either love or hate him. I personally don't care for his screech owl like vocals and excessive talking during songs. There is no doubt he can sing. He didn't really get in the way. He seemed to let the guys to their thing, stay out of their way, while he entertained the crowd by slapping them five and cracking jokes with Chad.

I don't know how many of the songs we heard last night will make it to the record. Some are great driving fast and kicking ass, others are throw away boring slow songs. I also loved these songs live where they usually kick it up in tempo and hardness. I don't know how they will sound on the album, but I didn't immediately love the single "Oh Yeah."

This band forces your head over a knee-high concrete wall, and slams their brand of rock n' roll directly into your puckered sphincter. You feel like Marsellus Wallace during it, but want so much more after it. You are going to have to make a choice when they tour again. If the album sucks, will Chickenfoot be worth paying to see. That answer will be yes.

There was a hilarious moment that I would be remiss if I didn't mention it. Chad Smith must have thrown out into the crowd 14,420 drum sticks last night. Every song he threw out at least two. One woman in the front decided to put the drum stick she "catched" and shove it down her cleavage. Chad saw this and said "That is the best drum stick holder I have ever seen. Come up on stage and be my drum stick holder for this next song."  She sits alongside him and places two sticks in between her cleavage and after he tosses one out into the crowd he grab a stick from her breast.

The first time he did this, she was shocked. She thought she was going to just sit there. He really intended on using her as a drum stick holder. She continue to replenish her drum stick holder and he continued to deplete it. At one point he was throwing them, and grabbing them, faster than she could replace them. While this is going on the band never, ever missed a note or a beat....especially him.

These guys rock and you definitely should check them out. Even if the CD sucks, their live show doesn't and will easily be worth the paltry admission price.

Pictures below are from my cellphone. So don't rag on the quality. Click the picture for the bigger version.

Setlist as I interpreted it:

Borderline
Soap on a Rope
Oh Yeah
Running Out
Slow opening song that he screamed the title of
Down the Drain
Biten by the Wolf (Howlin' Wolf homage)
My Kind of Girl
Learning to Fly
Some other song
The Future is the Past

Encore

Cover of Montrose's Bad Motor Scooter
Cover of Deep Purple's Highway Star.