The crowd at The Cranberries concert last night may have only been 7,000-strong, but they sure sounded like more. The enthusiastic gathering of baseball-capped boys and combat-booted girls were as enthusiastic as you're likely to find at the start of the Garth Brooks' concerts today. Only the wardrobe was different. Steep ticket prices may have kept the droves away, but those that were at the Saddledome were drawn by dreams of powerhouse pop. And The Cranberries delivered. Except for a few genuine ballads, even the softer of the 'Berries' material, such as Linger, took on a sharper edge -- sounding like tribal screams from a band of punk Dubliners. Spunky lead singer Dolores O'Riordan -- dressed up like some whacked out court jester -- shuffled around the stage and was able to garner great cheers just by doing her Salvation jig. For the first 20 minutes, Dolores' usually feisty vocals were overpowered by sound woes, but after all the bugs were worked out, her voice came through clear and full of fury. Thumping it out hard, fast and relentlessly, the rest of the 'Berries seemed content to take a back seat to Dolores. Her between-song banter was sparse and, because of her thick accent, incoherent, but that's OK -- that just meant the Irish supergroup could launch into song after song after song from their extensive library of hits. Opening act Cracker glided through their 40-minute set. The band barely broke a sweat, let alone bother to be hospitable to the crowd. It was a disappointing outing from a great band, who seemed to be playing a game with the audience. The rules: Cracker would play one of their catchier hits, but then they would play something they thought we should hear. Perhaps, their gritty charms were lost in a large arena, so I still haven't written them off and will go to a smaller venue to see them again anytime.