WINNIPEG - Turns out rock stars -- to crib a catchphrase from a particularly obnoxious gossip mag -- really are just like us.

They go shopping, they take their kids to the beach, and every once in a while, they come down with some totally non-glamorous sickness.

Sometimes, their work even suffers as a result.

That was the case earlier this year with retro-rocker Lenny Kravitz, who had to cancel a planned show in Winnipeg (and others elsewhere in the country) on account of a nasty case of bronchitis.

Kravitz wasted no time rescheduling, but even as recent as last week, rumours were swirling that he still wasn't feeling 100% up to snuff.

So it was something of a relief to see the 44-year-old rock icon (and renowned fashion plate) take to the stage at MTS Centre last night, where some 6,000 fans were waiting to see whether Kravitz really was gonna go their way.

Clad in a sharp-looking black suit and the requisite rock star shades, Kravitz certainly didn't look any worse for wear, hopping around a sparsely appointed stage like some kind of ageless hipster as his bandmates turned the 2008 track Bring It On into an extended, sax- and drum-heavy jam session.

He certainly didn't sound any worse for wear, either, his soul-and-sandpaper voice reaching all corners of the venue on follow-up Love Revolution (though it's worth noting he wasn't feeling the love when he realized his keyboard hadn't been connected properly; the poor instrument was promptly shoved off the stage).

Kravitz flexed his psych-rock muscles on retro hits Always on the Run, Dig In and Fields of Joy, infusing the tunes with trippy keyboard breaks, funk-rock guitar riffs and those trademark fuzz-tone harmonies.

Pseudo-ballad It Ain't Over 'til It's Over, with its Motown strings and Earth Wind & Fire-inspired horns, even found Kravitz swapping out his own falsetto parts so the fans could sing along.

And while our deadline precluded us from hearing hits Let Love Rule, Are You Gonna Go My Way, Mr. Cab Driver or The Guess Who's American Woman, we're mostly just happy that Kravitz's sick days appear to be behind him.

Canuck rockers Thornley opened the show with a half-hour set of generic post-grunge, which by itself wouldn't have been so bad, had it not stood in such stark contrast to Kravitz's far more adventurous arrangements.

Frontman Ian Thornley, late of Boston alt-rockers Big Wreck, could easily pass for Soundgarden screamer Chris Cornell, but his tortured howling wasn't enough to lift tunes like Come Again and Falling to Pieces (or even Big Wreck standards That Song and Blown Wide Open) out of the sludge.