"How 'bout a revolution?" shouted the crowd along to "Crazy Game of Poker," the fan favorite at last night's O.A.R. concert at the Bryce Jordan Center.

But there were no riots or fires or even a punch thrown. People may have bumped into each other but John Lennon would not have been amused.

Nevertheless, O.A.R.'s legions of hardcore fans sang every word, soaked in every solo and surfed the crowd like David Hasselhoff on a mission. The jam band's extensive noodling on the guitar, saxophone, bass, organs and drums pleased the fans, who danced to the easy-tempo grooves like nobody was watching. It's a good thing no one was, too, since the dancing closely resembled a mix of woozy stumbling and shadowboxing.

Prior to the show-stopping poker epic, the crowd was especially enthused by the band's upbeat sing-a-long "Hey Girl." But they were mostly there to witness the band's improvisational skills, which O.A.R. arguably provided.

See, outside of the two songs I mentioned, I'm not certain O.A.R. has any actual songs. They resemble songs, yes. They contain the basic elements of a song: melody, harmony and rhythm. But often times the long jams that the band goes into serve as distractions from the tedious structures of the songs. Musicians they are; songwriters they ain't.

The band is essentially six men who are pretty decent at playing their instruments and who happen to like Bob Marley and Dave Matthews. They will never break new ground in music. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but it doesn't warrant the amount of fans it takes to headline a show at the BJC. There are a ton of bands that have a handful of pretty decent musicians, including ones that play for a few measly bucks in State College every week.

O.A.R.'s live show is wildly entertaining to certain groups of people, as evidenced by the band's cult fan base. But at the core, they're not particularly original. In fact, that's probably

how they got popular--people tend to the familiar, and O.A.R. is familiar to a fault. The jams have beginnings and endings, but they lack middles--they don't really go anywhere ambitious or different. It's five guys playing essentially the same two or three note phrases on different instruments while a drummer plays a slow, easy beat. Or sometimes it's four guys playing the same thing while the other takes his turn repeating his own part over and over.

The biggest talent of the band is Jerry DePizzo, the band's saxophone player. And while he is indeed a talented musician, I've seen just as much talent from high school kids. It's not a good sign when a professional musician can be compared to an amateur one--especially if that musician is the best guy in the band.

O.A.R. is an easy band to listen to, and that's why they can book a show like last night's arena rock spectacle. But if they're just showing up to play scale exercises amidst a cloud of odorous smoke, what's the point? Art is creativity, and last night at the BJC, O.A.R. lacked it.