CALGARY -- Those who fail to study history are destined to repeat it. And in the case of rock and roll history, they're also destined to suck.

Conversely, as was evident last night during the Saddledome show by headliners Foo Fighters and the Canadian tandem of The Constantines and Sloan, those who do study it and respect it and understand it, are destined to take it to a higher level.

All three acts last night are students of the music -- they understand its power, its catharsis and, more importantly, its cliches. Unlike, say, Motley Crue, they know those cliches, they use those cliches, but they don't base their entire existence on those cliches -- they're much smarter and much more talented than that.

Which is predominantly why you'll be hard pressed to find a better rock and roll show hit this city this year.

In ascending order, the triumvirate harnessed that energy and understanding, were reverential toward it, while at the same time parodying it, having fun with it and subsequently, bettering it.

Foo Fighters proved the poster boys for that, and also proved to be one of the mightiest arena rock acts out there, maybe even nosing out Green Day just slightly as the behemoth to beat.

Kicking off their testosteronated set of monster melodic guitar rock with the larynx-grating title track of their latest CD In Your Honor, front man Dave Grohl and his band of ear-bludgeoners blew a big, beautiful hole through the crowd of 10,000 or so.

They were, in the truest sense of the word, awesome. Surrounded by a junkyard of amplifiers -- there's that arena rock irony again -- they struck the poses and played the game and also ignored the softer side exhibited on the second acoustic disc of In Your Honor.

Grohl especially, with his headbanging, legs askew, bought and sold it with unabashed passion encouraging the audience to sing along with "Uncle Dave" before launching into a blistering version of Best of You.

And then, he took a break to mock that arena rock status they've achieved, even coyly -- though with rock star cliches -- poking fun at their white-hatting by our over-enthusiastic city fathers.

And then? He slowly built into another blistering version of Up in Arms. In fact, everything they did could be described as blistering -- hard work that resulted in a memorable mark.

The bloody, bittersweet My Hero, the bruising, yet complex Stacked Actors -- the Foos never let up, never took their foot of the throat of the big, dumb dinosaur arena rock has become in the hands of far too many bands.

They came, they saw and oh man, did they conquer. May rock history never be the same.

Openers The Constantines got it all started on the proper note. The quintet took the stage and one by one, raised their fists in the universal rock power salute.

It was ironic without being insulting, clever without being condescending and that tone continued throughout their brilliant, big, noisy set.

As for Haligonian quartet Sloan, they too seemed at home on the arena rock stage despite being indie rock at heart.

Delivering their irrepressible pop rock with clap-along sincerity, the veterans showcased some of their more recent gems, harmonizing, improvising and generally setting the stage for the historical lesson that was to follow.