It's a sweltering Tuesday night in Chicago and the Philadelphia based Soraia is whipping through a set in the Elbo Room in Chicago that borders on blistering. To give you a visual, the Elbo Room is actually in the basement of a bar. One step on your descent down and your clothes are drenched. It's an extraordinary place for live music, but the incessant heat opens any and all pores in your body, and this is what I feel watching the live music, I can only imagine what it's like to perform it. On the small stage in the basement, Soraia is erupting with musical zeal. Opening with "Shed the Skin" it proved to be a mantra for the evening, as each member of the band probably lost a few pounds as their primal energy poured off the stage. You could take a machete and cut through the thickness of the heat, it was that severe. For close to fifty minutes, the band tore through a hot blooded set for around a hundred people. Less than two days later, they would be in front of 23,000 doing the same exact thing; exceeding all expectations, leaving a pound of flesh on the stage in the process.

Watching Soraia on a pair of scorching summer nights proved to be a revelation. Never before have I witnessed a band perform in two dramatically different venues in such a short period of time. I love watching a band ascent to the top and not flat line into obscurity and these two shows found Soraia as a whole converging into a broad wall of sound that is lean and muscular. Previously they managed to sound stirring, but they have upped their game in the months since I have last seen them. There was a primitive familiarity at the Elbo Room gig. On "Little Cat" they distinguished themselves as a cross between Led Zeppelin and Soundgarden with a grimy sound to the guitars which accentuates not just a bluesy feel, but an aura of debauchery amidst the severe heat. The crowd inducing encore of "Jolene" had everyone's rapt attention as they hung on every last lyric and note performed no matter how moist the surrounding walls became. It was one of those nights where the band overcame all obstacles in front of them and embodied the insurrectionary spirit of rock n' roll making you ecstatic to be alive.

In Milwaukee two nights later (on the Summerfest main stage opening for Bon Jovi) the frenzied beat of "Shed the Skin" served notice instantly that this was more than your archetypal opener. Singer Sue Mansou pounded her tambourine with a raging swing and shook her hips in trancelike unison as the rest of the band followed her lead; mere minutes into the biggest show of their career the five members of Soraia gelled into a breathtaking union and proceeded to forge ahead with a vengeance. It would be one thing if they merely came out and did an abbreviated standard set, but they had the audacity and buoyancy to debut two new songs. "Horizon" has an opening that is pure Prince while the song evokes the ghost of Jeff Beck. "Slave For Love" has a readymade groove drenched in the aftermath of sex whose fragrance can be felt from the gnashing rhythm section of bassist Travis Smith and drummer Joe Armstrong. "Not the Woman" found Mansou prowling the stage like a seasoned stage veteran with her ever trustworthy band in all their glory playing their hearts and souls out behind her. The song oozes a Black Sabbath vibe with slow motion Tony Iommi riffs at the forefront with a vocal delivery by Mansou that has the absolute sway of Heart's Ann Wilson. Soraia has songs that feel like home; as if you have been listening to them your entire life.

The joyous conviction of their performance was on full display for all of the twenty-three thousand in Milwaukee, who in turn stood in rapt attention. Capping their all too brief set was the audience pleaser, "Long Time". Two nights earlier in Chicago, the power of the music had heads banging in sync with one another. In Milwaukee, as bassist Travis Smith fired off the song's opening groove with some incendiary finger movement across his instruments four strings, Mansou's arms flew to the air cajoling the crowd while rhythm guitarist Joe Francia delivered an instantly memorable and feverish riff. Francia's role isn't flashy yet it is integral. His partnership with the band's rhythm section (bassist Smith and drummer Armstrong) cements the band's spine, forming a foundation upon which all else is held up allowing Mansou to make a more profound connection with the crowd. Lead guitarist Dave Justo's fingers flared across his frets like fireworks. Justo's solos are ready made for arena sized crowds; they soared featuring more than meticulousness, but feeling. Justo proves to be a counterpoint to Mansou, as his ascending solos and textbook rock star looks had eyes of many of the females in the crowd fixated on his movements. I don't think you'll find a rock star on the planet who isn't in awe of his look, but don't let the image blind you; there's an incalculable talent here which he reveled and delivered on the big stage with his remarkably adept solos . Watching the turbocharged tone of "Long Time" reminded me of why I love music. The way a song can give you goose bumps, the sheer resolve of a live performance providing consolation and the optimism that some tiny little record that is four-minutes long can change your life. Watching back to back performances by Soraia in such vastly different venues showed me that they are ready for anything that comes their way. With every performance, their vintage and distinctive catalog of no-nonsense rock songs sounds more authentic. Soraia is a band who works in unison with one another and every time I see them live, I see a band evolving; always the sign of a notable band. Being an opening act is the toughest gig in the world. Few acts shine through in this environment and even fewer leave a lasting impression; Soraia did both. A remarkable band becomes tighter, more succinct and elevates their material to new heights every time you see them, which defines Soraia.

Both nights found the band in an unyielding groove, chock full of brazen self-assurance. It makes no difference whether it's 230 people or 23,000, the band came to rock and it was apparent on both nights. At the Summerfest gig, you never would have assumed that this was their first time in front tens of thousands of people. The band assaulted their instruments with strident assurance usually only seen in war torn stage veterans. The fluidity of the band was seamless from a small club to an amphitheater stage. What made the dichotomy of the two performances so lucid was their ability to bond with the audience. In a club, it's easy to connect, but switching between the two can be tricky. I watched the cheap seats at the Marcus Amphitheater and there was unadulterated movement, people were on their feet rocking out as if they knew the songs. I've seen arena acts flake out in theaters and club acts who fail to graduate to an arena setting, but Soraia stepped into the shoes of an arena act with ease. Only the rarest of talents can balance the two extremes of club and arena connections and Soraia did it with substance, style and stride and at the end of the day these are the bands that remain indelible and timeless.