It was one of those nights where every person in the crowd knew they weren’t just seeing a band—they were involved in something raw, gripping, and very much alive. Queens of the Stone Age returned to Boston’s state-of-the-art mid-sized gem, MGM Music Hall at Fenway, and they ripped through an almost two-hour set like it was the first time they’d ever played. Let’s just say: the bar was hauled high, and bass frequencies rattled every patron and bone in the arena.
Full Setlist
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Little Sister
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Smooth Sailing
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Emotion Sickness
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My God Is the Sun
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I Sat by the Ocean
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Carnavoyeur
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The Sky Is Fallin’
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Kalopsia
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Time & Place
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Paper Machete
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The Lost Art of Keeping a Secret
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Sick, Sick, Sick
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Misfit Love
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I Appear Missing
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Go With the Flow
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No One Knows
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A Song for the Dead
Arrival and Opening Moments
Doors opened early and fans filled the hall with that familiar unsettled excitement. Shirts with cryptic desert-themed designs and folks who hadn’t cut a comb in years made for a crowd that spanned ages and aesthetics—a room full of hardened fans and curious newcomers united by one unspoken agreement: they wanted it hard and they wanted it loud.
By 8:45 PM, the lights dimmed and anticipation snapped tight. When the fistbeat of “Little Sister” hit, seconds later the crowd erupted. It was as if someone released a spring-loaded jack-in-the-box; mayhem in the best possible way.
Chunked Guitars, Heavy Riffs: Closing In
“Smooth Sailing” followed and washed the venue in sweeping, syrupy grooves with space for the sickest guitar accents. In such a new, pristine venue, there was freshness to the grunge. Josh Homme’s vocals were cleaner than you expect live—but still pliant enough to shred when needed.
“Emotion Sickness” next—riff-heavy, mid-tempo, and sonically sculpted to let Jon Theodore’s drums feel like they’re regenerating hearts. The audience was locked in, quiet between notes, unleashing mid-chorus sing-alongs.
Building Momentum and Throwing Curveballs
The transition into “My God Is the Sun” lifted the momentum like a rocket stage lighting. Homme prowled the stage, vocal howls echoing through the tiers. Then “I Sat by the Ocean” hit with melody and muscle, giving the audience a slight catch-your-breath before diving into deeper cuts.
The deeper cuts are why tonight was special. “Carnavoyeur” and “The Sky Is Fallin’” don’t typically headline setlists—but they gave live-weight texture. “Kalopsia” felt shiver-inducing, a jitter of unease danced above every riff.
Next, “Time & Place” and “Paper Machete” pulled the energy taut. The place pulsed like it was alive, every footstamp in sync with those pounding drums and searing guitars.
Nostalgia Meets Now
Then came the moment everyone leaned in: “The Lost Art of Keeping a Secret.” You felt older, you felt exactly right, you felt both. A generation-defining QOTSA riff that landed like comfort and adrenaline in equal measure.
“Sick, Sick, Sick” and “Misfit Love” crashed through next—unapologetically abrasive, visceral adrenaline surges. “I Appear Missing,” with its creeping melodies and sudden explosions, became a haunting high point. It was intimate and unpredictable in a way that only this band could pull off.
Grand Finale: Anthemic Power Unleashed
Then came full throttle rock anthems—“Go With the Flow” melted into “No One Knows”, the venue anonymous voices joining in every line, every wag of the vocal hook.
Finally, the apex: “A Song for the Dead.” Built on tank-drive drums and seismic groove, it landed like a sonic bomb at the end—and the crowd roared like one. No encore needed. Everything you wanted: brutal, melodic, unpredictable, and just that right amount of dangerous.
Stage, Sound, and Crew Dynamics
In a venue custom-designed for refined sound, QOTSA still walked the line between massive volume and beautiful texture. The mix was crystal clear: Homme’s guitar stayed punchy, the bass was a sine wave drumming through your spine, and the drums—holy—felt like they were reinventing gravity.
Lighting was minimal but savage. Blinding peaks at chorus climaxes, strobe flirts during drum intros, and dim, eerie silhouettes when songs pulled dark. Visually, they didn’t need grandeur—they only needed atmosphere.
Crowd Chemistry
The crowd was a living thing—bouncing, shouting lyrics, fist-pumping, screaming. You looked around and saw everyone: college kids, leathered-up veterans, older fans with grins they’d had since 2002. Even between songs, applause didn’t lull—it lifted.
During “No One Knows,” I caught someone yelling, “We still know, Josh!” And in that moment, it felt like the entire crowd was in perfect symmetry with the band: grateful, charged, alive.
Legacy and Performance Arc
This setlist wasn’t just a throwback—it was a statement of place. The band didn’t coast on hits. They built an arc from desert dawn to electric dusk, trawling through new album cuts, deep tracks, golden-era anthems, and back again. It was a showcase of a legacy still evolving, not a comfort-zone greatest-hits parade.
In a night where Josh Homme has walked through surgeries and tour postponements, this show radiated vitality. It was a reminder that very few bands who’ve been soldiering on since the early 2000s can still command a room with such ferocity and depth.
Final Takeaway
Queens of the Stone Age at MGM Music Hall felt like a homecoming—but not in a nostalgic way. It was an alive, wild, sweaty, and loving middle finger to any thought that they’ve mellowed out. They haven’t—if anything, they dig deeper, push harder, and still keep you guessing.
From “Little Sister” to “A Song for the Dead,” it was a ride from surface cuts to depth charges. Brotherhood of desert rock, elevated by virtuosity and shaped by unexpected emotional turns.
Boston got more than a concert—they got battered by brilliance, and left grinning under the lights, knowing this band still sits at the edge of hard-rock’s razor.