EDMONTON -- Two things need to be said here: this was a building full of people celebrating under one roof and I've heard many times God wants us to tell the truth.

That out of the way, Jars of Clay, opening for DC Talk, had a warm, churchlike atmosphere all the way through, and the singers, especially from the first band, were like angels with guitars, coloured lights and clouds blowing quickly behind them. Kind of a sight, eh?

Playing through a number of songs that, among other things, lacked anger, the easygoing pop of it all played over whispers and pointings.

Jars of Clay then put on a familiar cover, Steve Miller's inspirational Swingtown, with a chorus of ooo-oooing, which carried on into the evening.

Lift Me Up, one of the most upbeat songs, had people on their feet, and almost moving. Clapping at a frenetic pace, it again felt a bit like church, especially because there wasn't a single piece of litter to be tripped over, headlong into the concrete. My shoes stayed clean.

Unfortunately, there was some sickness in the back room, world was, so there was no encore for Jars, which would have earned one.

DC Talk came on and it was a different energy entirely, and a couple of mothers left the Coliseum wondering out loud if the word of God wasn't being broken, and that is no lie.

But DC Talk was mostly a fun circus, rap, rock, gospel and other elements, wrapped in a harsher package.

They looked flashy onstage, you can't argue that.

One big fella came out and played guitar and boy did he make the crowd get up.

Sunglasses, guitars, a lot of trappings of admittedly what a lot of people wouldn't think would be, well, a churchlike atmosphere.

But that calls up to all the people there, right?

Everyone got along fine and felt better, and isn't that what music's all about, never mind our daily lives? The bands put out a lot of energy and it was gladly received.

I'm glad I went, it was a window into a world I haven't seen a lot of.

Maybe bigger, high-price bands don't hang out here much, but that's something we can think about privately. Most every one of the 5,500 there, scattered all the way up to the second level of blues, were also glad they came.