With all due respect to the Jackson Five's Victory Tour of the mid-1980's, I think I can say with a fair amount of conviction that the current incarnation of the They Might Be Giants live set now making its way across the country is quite possibly the greatest event in the history of American music since Woodstock.

Well, maybe not. But if you weren't at Chicago's Cabaret Metro on October 18, you sure missed a damn good show.

I don't know about you, but there's something inherently satisfying about these small-venue shows so often proffered by the Johns. I first had the chance to see TMBG back in the fall of 1992 at this very same Metro (a humble little club, standing in the shadow of venerable Wrigley Field and just around the corner from one of the world's finest 7-Elevens). That night, all was right with the world--the atmosphere of the place was just about perfect for the Johns' unique brand of music. How thrilled was I, in just my first concert experience, to be standing a mere ten feet away from the stage, feeling the floorboards shake with every pounding beat of the drum machine? That's a rhetorical question, but I'll answer it anyway: pretty darn thrilled. Their show would lose something if brought to the big stage, which is just as well, as modern-day stadium rock has become a rather curious corporate-driven caricature of itself. But it's these small shows which afford the fan a great chance to really see the band in its element. I don't think I've ever seen the Giants in a place that holds more than a thousand people. I've also never paid more than $22.50 for a ticket, and every show has been general admission. Try finding that on the Bridges to Babylon tour.

Having said that, the show of October 18 was one of the best in recent memory, and only mildly ironic in that the opening act went by the name of Lincoln. The Johns were clearly in a festive mood, apparent from the first song of the night, "James K. Polk," which featured the show's lone pyrotechnic effect-- a confetti cannon-- that didn't quite go off on cue. That the band played a special matinee show earlier in the afternoon failed to dampen the emotional energy of the set, as the Johns seemed peppier than usual, with Linnell in particular exhibiting a flair for the dramatic and engaging in an unusual amount of dialogue with the audience.

The show featured staples of the Giants' recent tours, including the ever-popular puppet heads on "Exquisite Dead Guy" and the massive stick on "Lie Still, Little Bottle." A host of new material was featured as well, with "Dr. Worm", "Ringo Starr" and other future tracks leading the way. Certain songs were hurt by the absence of a horn section (most notably "Sleeping in the Flowers" and "No One Knows My Plan"), and I was a bit distracted by the presence of yet another bassist, who seemed intent on stealing a bit of the Johns' thunder. But the overall flow of the performance was smooth. The Giants remain masters of the live show, alternating high- and low-energy bits with considerable skill.

The show also embodied the continuing evolution of TMBG's live set, and there are a few distinct trends that I've noticed since I began going to Giants shows in 1992. To wit: one marked trend has been Linnell's increasing reliance on the keyboard, almost to the exclusion of other instruments. In fact, on this night he didn't even pick up the accordion until the first encore. I can certainly appreciate the versatility of the keyboard, but part of the Giants' charm lies in the accordion and its unique sound (and on the novelty of seeing it performed on stage, wired up to an amp). I, for one, would like to see the squeezebox employed a bit more often, even if that means sacrificing pure sound quality for the effect.

TMBG is also moving away from earlier material and is pushing more recent stuff much more heavily. I guess this is inevitable-- one can only prepare so many songs for the road, and when one's repertoire includes literally hundreds of potential tunes, the tendency would be to chart new territory and vary the show a bit. Yet it is interesting to note that "Birdhouse" was played within the first twenty minutes of the concert and not as an encore or set-finisher. Furthermore, the first two albums were virtually unrepresented ("Ana Ng" wasn't even performed at a show in Charlottesville, VA just weeks before), and "John Henry" was also noticeably shortchanged. Of course, some older stuff is making a comeback, "Letterbox" and "Purple Toupee" being two prime examples. But many have just faded away with the passage of time. Will longtime Giants aficionados ever see the return of "Dig My Grave" or "She's an Angel" to the regular lineup?

But I'm carping on unimportant details here. The show was a great one. And if you ever get the chance to see Them in concert, avail yourself of the opportunity by any means possible. Combining irresistibly clever lyrics with a solid pop sensibility, They Might Be Giants creates an infectious sound that will linger with you long after you've downed the post-concert beverage at the 7-Eleven around the corner. I'm talking about immortality on the scale of Woodstock.

Trust me.