POP MUSIC

Queen

Simple rock arithmetic: "Queen + Paul Rodgers" does not equal Queen. Fans of the legendary band surely knew as much when original Queenies Brian May and Roger Taylor announced a reunion tour, with Rodgers filling the Grand Canyon-size shoes of their late frontman Freddie Mercury.

Thursday at the Verizon Center (that's the center formerly known as MCI), Rodgers wisely sang less like Freddie and more like Paul. The former Free and Bad Company crooner offered his own understated take on classic Queen hits such as "I Want to Break Free" and "Fat Bottomed Girls." His performance was tasteful but a bit underwhelming. The absence of Mercury's flamboyance and theatricality made the exercise feel less like a night at the opera and more like a night at the karaoke bar.

May nimbly brushed these issues aside with some of the greatest guitar playing a rock fan could ever hope to hear. The audience cheered his soaring solos, but gasped when May took an accidental plunge into a hole in the stage (through which Rodgers and his grand piano were slowly ascending). Crew members quickly hoisted the 59-year-old guitarist back to his feet and he walked it off without much fuss. As he and Rodgers sang later in the set: "The show must go on!"

The band encored with a half-throttle version of Free's "All Right Now" sandwiched between quintessential Queen hits (and de facto jock-jams) "We Will Rock You" and "We Are the Champions." You can hear the former over the PA during practically every sporting event the Verizon Center hosts, but seeing it stomped out in real time was a treat. As for "We Are the Champions" -- we won't get to hear that one again until the Wizards figure out how to contain Shaq in the paint.

-- Chris Richards

The Pogues

Astooped, whiskey-bottle-toting Shane McGowan appeared to be 47 sheets to the wind when he took the stage with the reconstituted Pogues at the 9:30 club on Thursday. McGowan walked up to his mike, opened his toothless mouth and said, "Blargh garhde darlgzane argha." In fact, he pretty much said nothing comprehensible other than the slurred song titles he struggled to read from the set list posted at his feet.

McGowan's legendary bad habits are what made his band mates kick him out of the Pogues in 1991, but he's somehow still alive today -- if just barely. With his choppers gone, McGowan's jaw has the scrunched-up shape of a weathered accordion bellow, and his singing has morphed from rough-voiced crooning to mush-mouthed gargling. It was sad to watch this genius of song reduced to a shuffling fool (think Ozzy Osbourne), and it was awkward to witness how the audience roared at McGowan's every slug from the whiskey bottle and his every unintelligible utterance.

Even so, the more McGowan chugged, the better his singing became -- such dark irony. And as the nearly two-hour, 26-song concert progressed, the Pogues, too, played with more focus, energy and joy. Their punk-informed, trad-Irish ensemble sound still shoots sparks.

The capacity crowd likely couldn't have cared less that they were watching a ravaged human being perform; the chance to hear amazing McGowan songs such as "A Pair of Brown Eyes," "A Rainy Night in Soho" and "Old Main Drag" overrode any such concerns.

The highlight was, of course, "Fairytale of New York," one of the loveliest songs McGowan ever penned. Ella Finer, the daughter of Pogues banjoist and guitarist Jem Finer, crooned the female parts originally sung by Kirsty MacColl, and she more than held her own. With confetti "snow" falling down on them, Ella and McGowan joined together for an awkward dance during the song's concluding section. It was a sweet moment in an otherwise bittersweet concert.

-- Christopher Porter