Queens of the Stone Age virtual no-show

9.00pm - By RUSSELL BAILLIE and GRAHAM REID

This was the year of the big meltdown. Yes, it was hot. Yes the highly-touted Queens of the Stone Age's early evening set was plagued by problems that had them regularly blowing a fuse and playing to themselves for much of their set, which eventually stopped dead - making for the day's biggest disappointment. They were due to play a make-up set later in the evening.

But what the BDO 2003, which attracted a comfortable 30,000 crowd, seemed to dissolve was the divisions: Between local and international names, between the flavour of the month and the classic, and maybe between the genres too.

It felt like the local artists on the hip-hop stage and in the Boiler Room dance tent were brightest relatively new local talents on offer.

Then, maybe we've just seen too much rock'n'roll lately.

But for our money, the most surprisingly rock'n'roll local band on the day were Concord Dawn, whose set of thundering, whiplash drum'n'bass mid-afternoon was really something.

At the same time a few hundred metres away, the various artists of South Auckland's Dawn Raids label were putting on a fine tag-team showcase on the hip-hop stage.

A few hundred metres north the Tall Dwarfs, the veteran alt-rock partnership of Chris Knox and Alec Bathgate, were flying the flag for seat-of-one's pants lo-fi pop, complete with a tribute to Kraftwerk, who are even older than they are and who seemed to be the most anticipated band of the day.

Early up came a sense of rock'n'roll deja-vu: Aussie rockers The Living End raised the spectre of punkabilly via slap bass and guitar thrash. The bassist in Auckland pop-rockers Elemeno P took the award for having studied the most heavy metal poses from Joan Jett and the Runaways. UK neo-psychedelic band The Music pulled skytronic guitar and English aloofness together with interpretative dance (kung fu fighting Riverdance style?) from their frontman, and the D4 did what they always do, hurdling the barrier both musically and literally.

Against the rock'n'roll and edgy hip-hop backdrop, it's not every big day out that can boast a terrific boy band, but locals Nesian Mystik took advantage of this year's much-improved showcase stage for hip-hop and delivered a set long on Polynesian soul-pop perfect for the subtropical conditions.

"We'll play Ten Guitars next time, bro" they quipped as they left. But the funniest line of the day came from Jeff Tweedy of American art folk-rockers Wilco.

"We went to Rangitoto yesterday, deadpanned Tweedy. That's our anecdote."

That dry humour came amid an extraordinarily good, weirdly textured and elegantly depressing set.

Wilco came after the worst band of the day: Aussie comedy rockers Machine Gun Fellatio, further proof that dressing up, like, really bizarre mate - including a keyboardist wearing a strategically placed soft toy only - is no substitute for talent.

The Chicks, a shrill new-wavey trio of cosmopolitan line-up, delivered one song for which the main repeated line was: We don't play guitars. You could hear the guitars backstage breathe a sigh of relief.

Staying in the guitar department, Pacifier - the first time BDO regulars Shihad had played one under the new name - delivered a trademark rousing set in the late afternoon after the depressing grind of Americans the Deftones.

Next came the unfortunate Queens of the Stone Age, who, when the sound was working managed some hints of their askew hard rock firepower. The courtesy of an explanation about the problems to the huge and expectant audience might have diminished the disappointment and anger at their virtual no-show.

But quickly rebuilding the mood was P. J. Harvey, whose blistering performance was a dramatic and dynamic highlight.

As the sun went down and Kraftwerk emerged into the dark of the Boiler Room it was already clear that this been one of the best BDOs. On a day when you can see a band cover a Woody Guthrie tune (Wilco), see the inventors of electronic music play their laptops, and see most everyone who's anyone in local hip-hop, you could rightly conclude we were happily spoiled for choice.

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