To paraphrase Bryan Adams, there will never be another tonight, thank heavens.

  After years of promises, months of expectations and weeks of hype, it came as somewhat of a relief last night to witness the Palladium finally have its debut as a bigtime rock showplace, with a hit-packed, polished performance from local-boy-made-good and arena rocker par excellence, Bryan Adams.

  If there was any doubt about the Ottawa-bred musician's ability to inspire a throng of paying customers, those questions were quietly put to bed early in the set.

  During the lull between an anthemic whack at This Time and a leaden rendering of the recent hit Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman, the singer, decked out in basic black, paused and stared out into the audience...and did nothing. That mere non-gesture inspired a wave of cheers that snowballed into an ear-splitting howl that may very well have woken the neighbors.

  That's how it went for most of the night - Adams hitting all the right notes and making all the right moves, and the crowd engaging in what passes for pandemonium in the nation's capital.

  Although they've most recently been locked up in the studio working on the singer's next opus, Adams and his tight backing quartet hardly seemed like a studio-stale outfit. They roared and banged through hits like Kids Wanna Rock and Can't Stop This Thing We Started like they were in mid-tour fighting trim.

  As a frontman, Adams was extremely loose. He interrupted the set with a meandering rap about his memories of Ottawa, took a shot at CRTC chairman Keith Spicer (a lingering gripe over their Canadian content scrap a few years back) and at one point wondered aloud: "What the hell am I doing here? I should be in the studio making a record."

  When an impatient fan bellowed for Summer Of '69, Adams turned the spotlight on the heckler and good-naturedly joked with him. Then he later hauled the fan out of the crowd to lead the crowd in the tune. Another fan climbed onstage to sing Wild Thing.

  He's uncommonly generous in sharing the spotlight with his fellow players, preferring to stay anchored around the mike stand and conduct matters with a kick of his leg or a toss of his head. If anything, it's guitarist Keith Scott who works up the biggest sweat, stomping across the stage and taking a daring walkabout into the audience to high-five and play guitar with the fans.

  The highlight of the night came when Adams and company abandoned the big stage to mount a satellite stand at the rear of the arena to bash through a set of rock standards - from C'mon Everybody to Dick Dale's Miserlou. During She's Only Happy When She's Dancing, a mob of dancing gals invaded the small stage.

  If anyone seemed to be feeling opening-night jitters, it was the spectators - and it didn't go unnoticed by Adams.

  "I see one problem (with The Palladium)," he told the crowd. "They made those seats too damn comfortable."

  But the rink's suspended PA system and superb sightlines greatly enhanced the band's ability to project into the big room. When they chugged into Cuts Like A Knife - a tune blessed with a melody that seems specifically engineered for arenas - the audience loosened up enough to engage in an obedient sing-along, and responded rapturously when Adams and Scott made a cross-stage charge during One Night Love Affair.

  If anything, Adams makes it all seem too easy. He has conquered every challenge, received every accolade and climbed to heights of fame and fortune most dream of. But isn't it about time he stepped out of the comfort zone of superstardom and challenged himself with some more substantial material? He has proven he can crank out arena rockers like It's Only Love and movie-soundtrack power ballads like (Everything I Do) I Do It For You without breaking into a sweat.

  But as Adams himself sings: "Don't want to talk about politics...Just want to get my kicks." That's enough to satisfy his fans. Hopefully one day Adams will push himself for something more.

  RATING: 3 OUT 5