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On its first headlining trip to Pittsburgh, Brand New proved to be a better opener.

Four years ago, the Long Island, N.Y., band turned in punchy sets on the Warped Tour and with Dashboard Confessional. Stretched over 90 minutes at the A.J. Palumbo Center Saturday night (with Thrice and MeWithoutYou), it was a bit too much emo-ting in one serving.

It was also too much of the predictable quiet-to-loud formula perfected earlier in the past decade by Mr. Cobain. Brand New frontman Jesse Lacey, who can scream with the best of them, is clearly a disciple, as referenced Saturday by the brief tease of "Smells Like Teen Spirit."

Brand New came with even more firepower than Nirvana: three guitars, double drummers and bass, making those loud parts impressively crashing. There was a good bit of downtime as well, where Lacey, athletic-looking in a V-neck T-shirt and cropped hair, was practically whining into the mike or Brand New lingered long over a simple melody or riff.

From the opening "Sowing Season" -- with the explosive chorus of just "Yeah!" -- to the set-closing "Degausser," the band went heavy on "The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me," the new Brand New album, which isn't as good as the old Brand New album.

The songs from "Deja Entendu" were greeted with much more excitement from the packed house, particularly "Okay I Believe You But My Tommy Gun Don't," which started a craze of full-volume singing from the crowd.

"Sic Transit Gloria ... Glory Fades" was served with feverish intensity, Lacey going over the top on a vocal delivery that was almost rapped.

A lot of his pain -- and there's a lot of it -- seemed to be more of the inward than the shared variety, and it wore thin over 90 minutes.

He spoke only once or twice between songs, saying, "There's a lot of you here tonight -- and it's never expected," adding his thanks for the support.

Brand New did manage to send people home energized with "Seventy Times 7," a blast of pop-punk fun from the first album that would have been a good pick-me-up in the middle of the set.

-- Scott Mervis, Post-Gazette pop music critic

It was the Benedum on a cold December night, but it felt more like a big, inviting front porch on a summer evening when singer/songwriter John Prine took the stage.

Prine's songs are multifaceted gems that explore the highs and lows of human experience, weaving stories that can be either tragic or comic.

Saturday's show was a two-hour journey through an amazing songwriting career, and it didn't matter that much of the material is going into its fourth decade. Backed by a guitar and bass duo, he opened on a high note with "Spanish Pipedream" and went through a catalog of vintage Prine -- "Souvenirs," "Grandpa Was a Carpenter," "Fish and Whistle" and "Angel in Montgomery."

A solo set featured more of his best material: the satiric "Dear Abby," "You Got Gold," "Donald and Lydia," "Ain't Hurtin' Nobody" and "Sam Stone," the story of a haunted Vietnam veteran/drug addict that hasn't lost its edge.

He dedicated a song to the memory of a former Pittsburgher -- piano player Charles Cochran -- who was killed in a traffic accident in June: Titled "Hello in There," it was an ode to the loneliness and isolation of old age, which he described as "the prettiest song I ever wrote." That may be true, but judging by the retrospective he presented on Saturday night, it has some pretty tough competition.

When the musicians came back on stage, they kicked it up a notch with a charged-up "Sweet Revenge" and an exquisite interpretation of "Lake Marie."

For the encore, he served up a seasonal offering from his Christmas album, "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus," and a mellow version of a Prine favorite, "Paradise."

Alt-country singer/songwriter Todd Snider's spare solo acoustic guitar and humor were a good opening to Prine. Snider tapped into local sports folklore with a song about the 1970 game in which former Pirate Dock Ellis pitched a no-hitter under the influence of LSD. He followed that with a hilarious Arlo Guthrie-style monologue about how psychedelic mushrooms ended his high school football playing days.

-- Adrian McCoy, Post-Gazette staff writer

We were among the 5,500 folks who turned out at the Petersen Event Center Saturday night for comedy king Steve Harvey.

That was our first time there, and that is not an easy place to navigate.

We were running late but we still got a chance to see the phenomenal Danny Clay, a Luther Vandross sound-alike. The crowd was enthralled by his take on Luther classics such as "A House Is Not a Home."

Steve's opening act was a comedian named Redbone. He's actually a white guy doing "black" comedy, and if you closed your eyes and listened to him talk, you might think he was a "brother." He attributes his affinity for things black to having attended public schools in 65 percent black Savannah, Ga.

He was funny and pretty agile for a big man.

Then came Steve, aka Blue Cheese. And you know why they call him that, don't you?

Big Daddy hit the stage wearing a white suit with a yellow print tie and a white shirt with yellow stripes. The ice on his wrist nearly blinded us in the front row.

Speaking of ice, we sat one seat over from his wife and we don't know how her little finger could hold up that huge rock. She's gorgeous, by the way. The photos we saw of her online don't do her justice.

Anyway, we laughed all through Steve's act. He touched on a number of different topics, from the Pittsburgh/Cleveland rivalry (he's from Cleveland) to his niece's ghetto wedding to a trip to South Africa and being attacked by a gang of monkeys.

The brother worked hard, jumping around the stage during one segment to illustrate a point.

What never really quite happened for us was that kind of gut-busting laughter that makes it hard to catch your breath.

We kept waiting to get to that level of hilarity. At the end, as he does on the radio, Steve talked about God and how he can change people's lives.

We know that's right!

-- Monica "GBB" Haynes, Post-Gazette staff writer

The Swank Easy bar was sporting Christmas lights for the final installment of The Pillow Project's "By Volume" and the group of young artists was ready to celebrate. The fourth segment, "Epilogue," was the last chapter in this yearlong series at Construction Junction, where they wrapped up their packages of dance and video and graphic art.

What I liked best about the process was that it gave these artists a broad-based opportunity that they ordinarily wouldn't get in Pittsburgh. The concerts were casually wonderful, shifting seamlessly from verbal to dance to interactive multidisciplinary conversations.

Obviously this dedicated group meets and talks, an impressive thing in itself. It shows up in the improvography -- part improvisation, part choreography -- between a dancer and drummer PJ Roduta. Pearlann Porter also sported two fantasy solos between dancer and a nearly life-size video figure. And company member Maddy Landi had a downlit duo that was quickly repeated in video on the floor, showing a perspective from above.

The dominant piece, Ryan Hose's proposed mural, "Chapter 16," inspired by Douglas Adams' "Life, the Universe and Everything," was more like sophisticated graffiti.

For those who missed something, Porter and company filled corners with television sets and memorabilia from past performances.

Not everything was neatly finished; they like things slightly frayed here. And I liked the atmosphere of easy confidence in this art house -- it's a great place to hang out for an evening.

-- Jane Vranish, Post-Gazette dance critic