Photo by Andrew Dubinsky

Primus
Danforth Music Hall
Toronto, ON
June 7

The circus-like intro music, and eerily-humanistic inflatable astronauts flanking the Danforth Music Hall stage, welcomed a packed house of eager fans to a surefire extravaganza. Primus, one of the most beloved cult bands in the world, was about to unleash its concert experience on Toronto for consecutive nights. The kicker? Dazzling 3D projections that would accompany the live music, with movie theater-style 3D glasses as the conduit, and two sets per night. All the funk-metal-prog fury Canada could handle.

The signature Primus sound took no time to envelop the cozy hall, Les Claypool’s dense slap-bass lines leading the way, with kinetic guitar hues courtesy of Larry LaLonde and metronomic precision from the thundering drums of Jay Lane. “Moron TV,” accompanied by vintage images of the “Thunderbirds” marionettes, made a lot of noise for a song played by just three people, while traversing its way through many sections and time signatures. The influence of local rock gods Rush was not lost on Claypool, who quickly followed the intricate number with a shout-out to one of his most cherished (and admittedly imitated) bands.

The imposing riff of “American Life” spurned a menacing build, anchored by Lane’s stuttering hi-hat and sporadic rolls. A schizoid LaLonde solo peaked amidst a double-time gallop, as an early highlight came and went. Pleasing and even a bit reserved thus far, the 3D component took a turn for the cheesy during “Hats Off”, as a plethora of (you guessed it) hats danced around before bespectacled eyes. Nodding to another homegrown hero, Claypool sang a quick verse of Stompin’ Tom Connors’ “Bridge Came Tumbling Down,” as a prologue to the country-epic amble of “Lee Van Cleef”. The Eastern-tinged burn of “Over the Electric Grapevine” then wormed its way into a vicious groove, over which LaLaone screeched and contorted – leaving room for a tease of Rush’s “Passage To Bangkok,” just to hammer home the band’s awareness of their locale.

Following a setbreak that featured a classic Popeye cartoon on the big screen (2D, unfortunately), the band returned with beefier material and improved visuals to boot. “Eyes of the Squirrel” boasted a frantic section, reminiscent of Pink Floyd’s “On The Run,” with spiraling rainbows and tense imagery coming through a thousand sets of plastic glasses. The centerpiece of the show that followed was grand in title and delivery – “Southbound Pachyderm” patiently unfurling its psychedelic trunk to visions of elephants on trampolines and never-ending tunnels. Judging by the audible response, this was what the people came to see.

The video accompaniment shone in the late-going, “Jilly’s On Smack” supported by old home movies of a wholesome family Christmas, as Claypool donned a pig mask and played a bowed bass. “The Heckler”, which bordered on Dream Theater-esque in its pummeling exactitude, gave way to “The Toys Go Winding Down” – a strobe-voiced Claypool framed by shots of mechanical men coming apart. The giant 3D orb that appeared during “Groundhog’s Day” brought with it another blistering LaLonde segment, and “Wynona’s Big Brown Beaver” ensured that even the newbies in attendance could raise their hands and voices in gleeful recognition. Bands don’t stick around as long as Primus, inspiring a legion of diehards along the way, without earning it. Their performance spoke to the time and toil required to graciously create such a legacy, and it also rocked really hard. The 3D bonus was just the cherry on top.