EDMONTON - It's not often a rock concert qualifies as a "religious experience," but for followers of the church of heavy metal, last night's System of a Down concert was the Burning Bush and the 28 Visions of Lourdes rolled into one.

That's just an awkward way of saying it was a good gig. It was maybe even the best metal show ever seen in Edmonton - and that counts both Metallica and Pantera. Sorry, boys.

Singer-guitarist Daron Malakian put it nicely in a mutilated snippet of a Neil Young classic, "My, my, hey, hey, rock 'n' roll is turning gay." Yes, it had to be said. And these melodic metal monsters were just the guys to do it - and then prove beyond a shadow of doubt that there's still hope yet.

More than 13,000 headbanging fans at Rexall Place seemed to agree.

This was neither hair metal nostalgia nor nu-metal whine-fest. This was something new, something special, this was the elite at work in a rare display of flawless musicianship coupled with unbridled passion. One is almost sacrificed for the other. Not this time.

Opening with the pointed BYOB - "why do they always send the poor? Why don't presidents fight the war?" - System of a Down sounded just as heavy, fast and tight as the most Cookie Monstrous of Cookie Monster death-metal bands. Except that instead of growling incoherence from the deepest gravel pit of hell, the listener is treated to lovely melodies, exotic rhythms and singing that sounds like a gypsy opera - thanks largely to Zappa-esque lead singer Serj Tankian.

Demonstrating a wide range of melody, tone and emotion, he was pretty laid back in places, coming across like a genteel musketeer who regales his victims with poetry before slicing them to bits.

It was an interesting contrast to see him perched on a stool strumming his acoustic guitar during Question as the music absolutely raged about him.

The unusual melodic components (for metal bands) point to the band's Armenian roots, best illustrated in songs like mournful Lost in Hollywood and Sad Statue, the latter with its haunting refrain, "You and me will all go down in history with the sad statue of liberty and a generation that didn't agree."

Other interesting lyrics that floated through the maelstrom - nice to hear them, nice they're worth hearing - included "violent pornography, choking chicks and sodomy, the kind of thing that Jesus wants on his TV."

Er, right.

Not for nothing has System been called the band that Rage Against the Machine wanted to be, but never quite could be.

There were plenty more political/social vitriol detected as the evening roared on, but it wasn't all so serious, so "down." The ferocious Cigaro opened with a slow bit and Malakian singing as if in a touching love ballad, "My penis is much bigger than yours, my penis can walk right through door, with a feeling that is so pure. Can't you see that I love my penis? Can't you see that you love my penis, too?" And so on. He used a different word than penis.

Even the opening acts were a cut above the usual major label marketing placements that open so many rock concerts.

The Mars Volta sounds like what happens when jazz musicians are given drugs and amplifiers. It was exotic, interesting, strange and terribly self-indulgent.

Up first, the band Hella in some ways did more with less. With excellent musicianship that was the hallmark of the evening, the art-noise quartet lived down to its name - in a good way. They sounded like Primus mixed with Rage mixed with an atomic bomb.

It was a good gig.

SUN RATING: 5 out of 5