A lot of the bands that play the Auditorium Theatre use too much amplification and wind up sounding terrible. We all understand rock music's need for volume...and so did Canadian rock giants The Tragically Hip, which despite its volume sounded fantastic. Singer Gordon Downie has an incredible bright and dynamic rock voice. The band's fanbase is fanatic (kinda like hockey fans, only drunker) and the band satisfied with broad selections from its catalogue, including stuff from its fantastic 2000 release "Work." The band came back and wrung out what little the sold-out crowd had left with an encore that bordered

Alright, you palookas...this week we're gonna jaw about bands as adjectives, youthful exuberance vs wisdom, volume as foreplay, and the contact buzz. It all came to light with Blue Cheer's Thursday night performance and The Bug Jar. That's right, baby; the psychedelic sonic three-piece once heralded as the loudest band on earth shoe-horned onto a tiny stage. The place was packed with everything from young punks to rock 'n' roll crusties.When describing heavy blues-based, drug-inspired bands, Blue Cheer gets thrown around a lot. "Dude, these cats sound like Blue Cheer," or "Was that a Blue Cheer riff or what?" So

Is he still The Boss? In any event, Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band will play Blue Cross Arena Thursday, March 6, at 7:30 p.m. Tickets cost $66.50-$96.50, and go on sale Saturday, November 17. For more information call 232-1900 or visit ticketmaster.com.

It recently dawned on me that over the years this column hasn't been so much about what I've seen but how I've seen it. And in trying to put music into words, by clawing madly at the air the notes inhabit, I am nowhere closer to figuring any of this out. And you, gentle readers, look to me for guidance? Opinions? Recommendations? We're all screwed.If you must corral my faith, it's safe to say I'm in the just-in-case-we're-wrong-and-there-is-a-god slot occupied by agnostics. Spiritual, yes, but I don't buy into voices in the sky.So there I was at The Buddhahood's wonderful

Monday night and it was déjà vu all over again. During my tenure on the rock 'n' roll road to fame and oblivion, there were plenty of Monday nights in towns without pity - or much love - for a band on the road. It was nights like this when equipment seemed heavier, groupies homelier, and time dragged painfully slow as you nursed a cold slice of pizza waiting for the opening band to finish. Ah yes, showbiz. I felt it all for Leo, a slick four-piece rock band from St. Louis that found itself plying its trade in Rochester