CALGARY -- Oh yeah.

That is why I do it.

That is why I put up with the Def Leppards, the Nickelbacks, the Backstreet Boys and every other piece of soulless garbage that's vomited onto a compact disc and sent across my desk -- for the few, the precious moments like that.

For moments that capture everything that is good, and right, and pure, and honest, and life-affirming, about the entire concept of music.

Such a moment came last night during the opening set, while many thousands of the soldout crowd had failed to take their seats for the start of the the Red Hot Chili Peppers' Saddledome show.

It came thanks to a song written three decades ago and a man who helped kickstart the entire American punk-rock movement more than two decades ago. Having already knocked opened the ears with a devastating, raw-power version of The Stooge's classic Funhouse, former Minutemen Mike Watt and his new band, The Secondmen, went one further.

Joined by all four Chili Peppers, Watt and his band jammed on the Velvet Underground's Sister Ray as if nothing else in this whole world mattered. And for the 10 or so minutes they played, nothing did.

Everything made sense, everything was real, everything was beautiful.

It was the essence of rock 'n' roll: Sexy, loud, noisy, purging and, above all else, fun. The purity and reckless power of seven musicians playing for all the right reasons was awe-inspiring -- and just plain inspiring.

In other words, the evening could have ended on that note and the world would have been a much-better place.

As it was, the Peppers still had to play. The California funk-punk quartet still had to wrap up the night and, in doing so, wrap up this leg of their world tour in support of arguably their best album By The Way. Thankfully, either buoyed by the impromptu jam session or the closing-night giddiness, they did an admirable job of trying to equal the energy and, er, Watt-age of what came before.

True, the foursome, as evidenced by By The Way and Californication -- both of which the first part of the Peppers set relied heavily on -- have matured as artists and refined their sound.

But last night, that came across more as harnessed than mellowed.

Bassist Flea, shirtless and tattooed, seemed especially free and in fine spirits, maybe attempting not to be outdone by one of his mentors, Watt.

And vocalist Anthony Kiedis also seemed to have an extra jump, spin and strut in his step, sounding great, having obviously put the previous evening's reported vocal trouble behind him. Actually, the sound last night was pretty exceptional.

Guitarist John Frusciante's solo rendition of T. Rex's Spaceball Ricochet was clear and pretty enough to raise more than a few goosebumps.

Not nearly as many as were raised by Sister Ray; then again, perfection is a near-impossible thing to top.