CALGARY -- There were two ways to attend last night's sold-out Saddledome show by Ozzy Osbourne.

The first was as a Fan, blind and oblivious to anything other than the fact that it was an opportunity to see the master of metal and hear songs that have influenced and shaped an entire musical genre.

The second was as a Realist, knowing full well that the 54-year-old is a caricature of his former self, and his swing through town was little more than a dress rehearsal for his upcoming Ozzfest dates -- but, still hoping to be entertained nonetheless by a current pop culture icon.

Well, no matter how you went into it, you could not have come out the other side anything but suitably entertained, and maybe a little deaf.

Ozzy -- though at times recalling a crazed Keebler Elf prone to mooning, audience berating and bouts of stiffly delivered calisthenics -- puts on one of helluva party.

Thirty years of showmanship were tightly packed into his two-hour set of Black Sabbath gems and solo Ozzy faves.

Before he even took the stage, his unmistakable disembodied voice had already urged the energy up to an incredible level. When he finally came out to open with the Sabbath classic War Pigs, the Realist couldn't help but light a smoke and down a beer.

No matter how he looked, Ozzy sounded like true Ozzy, ripping through tracks such as Mr. Crowley, Flying High Again and Gets Me Through. Helping him out was a monster backup band featuring metal heavy-hitters Zakk Wylde (guitar), Jason Newsted (bass) and Michael Bordin (drums). They all got their opportunities to solo and shine, with Wylde especially taking off and running with it.

But, of course, for the majority of the evening it was all about Ozzy.

Ozzy and how he's managed to make a Fan out of all of us.

While Ozzy himself would have been enough for almost everyone in attendance, the show was filled out by a pair of very different Canadian acts.

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Veterans Voivod kicked things off with 30-minutes of wonderfully ugly and movable metal.

The quartet comes from the old school, with all of the subtleties of a solid punch to the head.

About the only thing detracting from the relentless thundering appeal of the band was the frontman Denis (Snake) Belanger, who stepped on the side of silly with his antics once too often, thinking his agility was something other than that of a heavy metal Herman Munster.

The school that Finger Eleven come from is far from old -- although at times it feels that way. Despite attempts to lose the "nu" tag that was stuck on the band two albums ago, there is still not a great deal -- live any way -- to distinguish them from a thousand other heavy guitar bands trying to make a go of it. To be fair, last night they did sound extremely polished and put on a passable stage show, but there really wasn't much to get overly excited about, or even qualify as unique.

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