Star-Telegram Live Reviews

Roger Waters: Classic spectacle and timeless tunes

by Punch Shaw
Special to the Star-Telegram

DALLAS -- This is what current and future generations of rock fans will never know.
    Roger Waters brought an old fashioned, gaudy spectacle of a stadium show to the Superpages.com Center on Friday night that featured a complete presentation of The Dark Side of the Moon, the legendary album from 1973 by the bass player’s former band, Pink Floyd. 

The concert was remarkable in a number of ways -- the quality of the music, the scale of it all and the intensity of the audience’s involvement, among others. But it was perhaps most remarkable for how it measured so many things that rock has now lost.

    Waters is a prominent member of a dying breed. There are few bands that can justify the expense of putting a show like this one on the road. Friday’s concert, played before a crowd that was very conservatively estimated at 15,000, required the efforts of Waters and a seven-piece band, three back-up singers, a laser light spewing prism-shaped object that descended from above, three video screens displaying miles of video, more spotlights than there are in Hollywood, a blizzard of confetti and an enormous inflated pig -- which may still be floating around out that somewhere, by the way.   

   
    Only the most venerated rock ‘n roll warriors of the 1960s and 1970s can lay that kind of excess on a crowd and be rewarded for it. In the current music industry, where the CD no longer has any value and the audience has been fragmented into near oblivion, few if any bands are ever going to be able to mount these sorts of shows.

      

    And they sure are not going to be doing an entire album, as did Waters and company, since the concept of the album is deader than Latin. In an age where single tracks are downloaded from iTunes, there is no place for something like Dark Side of the Moon. Gone are the days when a particular album offers a snapshot of a particular band or a specific time in our history.

      

    But, Friday night at least, the concept of the album was still alive and well and Waters united with the faithful to celebrate that fact.

   

    The first half of the concert was devoted to a wide mix of Floyd and Waters tunes, including Shine on You Crazy Diamond, Wish You Were Here, Mother, Fletcher Memorial and Leaving Beirut. The playing was outstanding from all quarters, especially saxophonist Ian Ritchie. The vocals were done mostly by committee, probably in an effort to protect the headliner a bit. But Waters, while not always as forceful as might be hoped, was usually able to rise to the occasion.
   
    In the concert’s second half, when Moon was gloriously covered from start to finish, the voices on stage did not matter. The crowd sang every word with fervent enthusiasm.

   

    Because, for this crowd, Moon is not just a collection of songs. It is a single, unified musical idea that resonates with them in a personal way. And that is what this concert was ultimately about – how an artist like Waters and an album like Moon can serve as mileposts in our lives and of our times.

It almost makes you feel sorry for the iPod/YouTube generation.   

Nothing's Missing in M.I.A.'s Set at the Palladium

Who knew there were this many M.I.A. fans in North Texas? The British female rapper of Sri Lankan descent doesn't get a lot of airplay around these parts. Her cacophonous blend of booming electro and hip-hop beats with South Asian and African rhythms punctuated by gunfire -- the whole thing often sounding like a riot in progress -- doesn't exactly fit on a playlist between Daughtry and Mary J. Blige.

But not only did M.I.A. attract a huge crowd Friday night, it was one that enthusiastically knew the lyrics to the songs on her two albums, Arular and Kala. And it was a crowd that spanned the social spectrum. Black, white, Asian, Latin, trendy, preppy, all were out in force. In fact, when M.I.A. put a call-out for ladies to come up onstage during an extremely funky 10, those who swarmed the stage looked as much as ready for a sale at NorthPark as a concert by a British cult pop figure.

Still, for all of the surface sense of noise and rhythmic anarchy, M.I.A.'s music is actually very accessible. The beats cut through, offering an anchor of groove. Backed by a DJ, a dancer, and a back-up rapper/singer, M.I.A.tore through her near-90-minute set (including an opening 15-minute set by her DJ) playing a good variety of tracks from her two CDs. Though it wouldn't have been surprising if she couldn't pull off live versions of her songs, most of the tracks actually worked better live. M.I.A. didn't offer much of a glimpse into her personality during the show but with beats as convincing as these, that didn't matter too much.

---Cary Darling

Glow in the Dark Tour: Bright lights, big stars

by Preston Jones
pjones@star-telegram.com

DALLAS -- No one could ever accuse Kanye West of taking it easy.

From his trippy albums to his lippy tirades, West is a fearless multi-genre maverick, an artist most comfortable when he's on the edge of his abilities, simultaneously pushing pop and rap forward.

During the Dallas stop of his ongoing Glow in the Dark Tour at Superpages.com Center Thursday night, West was the focal point of a furious, fantastical and fatiguing 90-minute set that married his out-sized ego with his seemingly limitless ambition. The dazzling display of smoke, flame and not a little hubris made for an evening of endless peaks -- West designed the show to be a continuous high, remarkably fat-free and lightning fast.

Pulling most heavily from his latest record, Graduation, West kicked off with the Elton John-sampling Good Morning, after setting up the concept of his show (crash landing on a faraway planet with only the company of a sultry computer named Jane). From there, his sleek, stylish set took over; it must've cost the rapper a fortune, but his stage designers should take a bow -- this was one impressive set-up. High-def screens, rapid-fire light shows and evocative video loops combined to form a non-stop sensory overload.

The highlights were many -- a poignant run-through of Hey Mama; a grimly defiant Can't Tell Me Nothing; the scorching take on Jesus Walks -- and the hiccups were non-existent. West runs an extremely tight ship, but the grin on his face as the near-capacity crowd messily roared verses of Stronger or Gold Digger belied his compulsion for perfection.

Graduation marked a modest artistic leap forward for West, as compared to its predecessor Late Registration; the touring stage show for his previous album was also a visually inventive endeavor but nothing approaching the go-for-broke bombast of this Glow in the Dark outing.

Few modern musicians could hold their own in a 20,000-seat amphitheater with nothing more than a few pricey gadgets and copious charm. Performers like Kanye West are a timeless, rare breed; a genuine artist who understands the balance between creativity and charisma, deftly extracting adoration while delivering unforgettable moments.

He's also got great taste in opening acts: Lupe Fiasco, unfortunately, was saddled with a sparse crowd, but one that warmed up toward the end of his 30-minute set. Chad Hugo and Pharrell Williams, of N.E.R.D., fared much better, particularly since the amphitheater was beginning to fill up. The penultimate act, Rihanna, was far more ambulatory than her last North Texas appearance toward the end of 2007. Free to move about the stage, she ripped into her catalog with a surprisingly ferocious sexuality.

For all four acts on the bill, there was one constant (aside from quality) -- concussive, muddy sound was the only element not up to snuff for anyone. The thudding, rib-rattling bass overpowered each performer at some point, drowning out vocals and eliminating any nuance. Why the bottom-heavy sound mix wasn't tweaked to provide some sonic relief (and enjoyment) is baffling.

Preston Jones is the Star-Telegram pop music critic, 817-390-7713

An empowered Feist shows her many colors

By Ryan Peterson
rpeterson@star-telegram.com

DALLAS –- O Canada, with glowing hearts, North Texans watched one of your stars rise Wednesday night at the Palladium Ballroom. While Leslie Feist, who goes mainly by her surname, may be best known for the iPod commercial featuring her song 1234, she rendered an empowered performance proving she’s got more to offer than a hit jingle.

Re-arranger
It’s a risky move for an artist to dramatically alter his or her songs, but Feist was remarkably adept at changing a song while keeping its spirit. Throughout the set, songs were often radially different than their album versions. The loose folk of When I Was A Young Girl became a Patti Smith styled-rocker on which Feist’s guitar howled over a percussive rattle. Inside and Out went from a vintage lounge number to a slow torch song with bluesy guitar licks. All around, Feist’s vocal delivery was both beautiful and intoxicating.

Shape-shifter
Feist’s music was accented by visuals provided by Clea Minaker, who used a projector to cast images onto a screen, providing a backdrop for the band. While all her creations were interesting, the most powerful was during the haunting ballad Honey Honey, on which she drew a picture of a sailboat on the sea bathed in in the moonlight of a heart. As the song progressed, the heart melted and a tidal wave washed the boat away.

High point
While her performance of 1234 got the best crowd reaction, the middle encore number, Sealion, was the evening’s highlight. As the song’s tribal pulse was winding down, Feist’s band began chanting the song’s namesake like a mantra. Feist then distorted her voice to sound like a harmonica as she sang the song’s final chorus.

Low point
The beginning and end of the encore dragged a little. Not that the songs were performed poorly, but slowness of The Water and Let It Die meant the night had to end on a downer. Still, Feist did rally the band for a final cathartic note, capping the evening while illustrating the theme of Let It Die: While endings aren’t always happy, that’s life sometimes.

817-390-7199

Setlist
1. Leaning on the Everlasting Arms [Traditional]
2. When I Was A Young Girl
3. So Sorry 
4. My Moon My Man 
5. The Park 
6. Limit To Your Love 
7. I Feel It All 
8. Honey Honey 
9. Anti-Pioneer [previously unreleased]
10. Gatekeeper 
11. Brandy Alexander 
12. Inside and Out 
13. 1234
14. Mushaboom

Encore
15. The Water
16. Sealion
17. Let It Die

Dallas Opera's 'Tosca' 'exemplary'

By Chris Shull
Special to the Star-Telegram

DALLAS -- Opera these days is equally about music and stagecraft. Audiences demand that performers sing with beauty and majesty, but also expect realistic acting.

The Dallas Opera found an exemplary balance between these elements in Puccini's Tosca Friday night at Music Hall at Fair Park. The production is the last of Dallas Opera's current season; repeat performances run Sunday afternoon and on Wednesday and Saturday evenings.

The realistic sets and costumes for Tosca were made by Dallas Opera; they have been used in previous presentations of the opera. They are not worn, just familiar. What made Friday's performance fresh and viscerally exciting was provocative acting by the principal singers – and potent and poignant vocalism.

The famous scene in Tosca is in the second act, when the singer Floria Tosca agrees to sleep with the police chief Baron Scarpia in order to save the life of her lover, the painter Cavaradossi. But instead of giving up a kiss, she plunges a knife into his heart. On Friday, Catherine Naglestad and Wolfgang Brendel played this scene with the violent pacing of the movie thriller.

In the midst of the escalating intensity, Tosca sings the aria Vissi d'arte – and in a lovely, plaintive tone, Naglestad made time stand still in the theater.

Throughout the opera her acting was in synch with the inflections and color of her well-formed soprano. Her body language and her voice combined for flirtatious coos, passionate outpourings and desperate pleas for her lover's freedom. When Tosca finally scrambled from Scarpia's clutches, safe-conduct papers in hand, the audience felt her shivers - her relief and remorse - accompanied by stark orchestra chords.

Brendel's voice was a bit one-dimensional in its upper tones, but the assurance of his characterization of Scarpia made up for that. The realism of the political intrigue that is the backdrop to Tosca was helped along nicely by David Cangelosi's Spoletta, who served as both efficient functionary and fall guy among Scarpia's police agents. Michael Gallup brought broad comic gestures to his Sacristan.

Stage director Giulio Chazalettes made the most of his cast of singing actors, placing them sensibly for dramatic effect and effective singing.

The third wonderful singer on stage in Dallas' Tosca was Massimo Giordano as Cavaradossi. He brought a buoyant, brilliant Italianate sound to his two set-piece arias, lingering lusciously over the phrases in E lucevan le stele in the last act. As Naglestad and Brendel brought a fierce revulsion to their encounters, she and Giordano brought a joyful tenderness to theirs.

Overseeing the drama from the pit was conductor Anthony Barrese, making his main-stage debut with Dallas Opera. He conducted student performances for the company last season. On Friday it took the orchestra until the third act to really warm to him. Until then the musical accompaniment often sounded dry, and phrases ran out of steam.

But that barely detracted from what was building on stage, a Tosca worth experiencing for its wonderful singing and powerful story-telling.

Who: Dallas Opera
What: Puccini's Tosca
Where: Fair Park Music Hall
When: Friday, repeat performances Sunday afternoon, Wednesday, Saturday

Chris Shull, shullchris@yahoo.com

PHOTO INFORMATION:
Catherine Naglestad, left, and Wolfgang Brendal star in the Dallas Opera production of Tosca at Fair Park Music Hall.
Special to the Star-Telegram/Mike Fuente

 

They might be giants, but we still love the little guys

They Might Be Giants, House of Blues, Tuesday night

By TODD CAMP
Star-Telegram Staff Writer

DALLAS -- Remember that band you used to love that nobody else had ever heard of? You thought they were so cool and you were so cool for liking them and then they caught on. Cultish, to be sure, but still with an undeniable mass appeal. Suddenly those rough-around-the-edges live gigs you cherished gave way to more polished, professional performances and your love for those quirky outsiders, though not diminished, somehow never felt the same.
    That might be how you felt about last night's They Might Be Giants show at the House of Blues in Dallas, though opening act Oppenheimer gave you a taste of what the old TMBG days may have felt like, if you remember that far back.
    The Belfast, Ireland, duo warmed up the crowd before the two Johns and company took the stage, and their deceptively simple set made up of inescapably catchy, refreshingly succinct selections left you feeling like you'd spent the last 30 minutes or so inside a Mac commercial, and I mean that in a good way.
    A clean mix of drums, synths, guitars and lush vocals made these openers a delicious appetite whetter for the main event (and lead to quite a few nearby listeners perusing their iPhones to download Oppenheimer's song selection on iTunes).
     That took nothing away from John Flansburgh, John Linnel and company, aka They Might Be Giants, whose slick, well-lit set was a big departure from their last swing through town at Trees in 2004.
     Hop scotching throughout their sizable discography, the Giants revisited necessary mainstays such as Birdhouse in Your Soul, Ana Ng and Dr. Worm to more recent fare such as The Mesopotamians, The Shadow Government and I'm Impressed. They also offered up some jazzed-up versions of tunes off their kid-friendly albums, including Alphabet of Nations, One Dozen Monkeys and Apartment Four.
     Flansburgh joked with the crowd between numbers about the ongoing primary, saying that election results would be playing on the large video screens flanking the stage (but they were only tuned into the onstage antics, of course). And even the seemingly politically minded TMBG crowd of young urban professionals, geek rock aficianados and kids who discovered them through their theme song to Malcolm in the Middle were able to forego politics long enough to sing and dance along to Experimental Film or, in the first of two encores, the band's now legendary cover Instanbul (Not Constantinople).
     They might not be the giants you remember, but a blistering finale of the astronomical, educational anthem Why Does the Sun Shine? was certainly enough to leave just about everyone with a sunny disposition.
Todd Camp, tcamp@star-telegram.com

They Might Be Giants Set List
The Cap'm
The Shadow Government
Dr. Worm
Particle Man
Cyclops Rock
Withered Hope
Boss of Me
Little Birdhouse in Your Soul
Take Out the Trash
Ana Ng
Memo to Human Resources
The Mesopotamians
New York City
I'm Impressed
One Dozen Monkeys
Apartment 4
Alphabet of Nations
It's Not My Birthday
Hey Mister DJ I Thought You Said We Had a Deal
Damn Good Times
Older
How Can I Sing Like a Girl
Experimental Film
   Encore No. 1
Clap Your Hands
Istanbul (Not Constantinople)
   Encore No. 2
Maybe I Know
Why Does the Sun Shine?

I Have Seen the Future of Hip-Hop. . .Or At Least a Really Good Present

Lupe Fiasco, House of Blues, Wednesday night

By CARY DARLING
Star-Telegram Pop Culture Critic

Victory Park was swarming with music fans Wednesday night. Some were headed to American Airlines Center to rock to the Foo Fighters while others, more prone to nodding to their heads to hip-hop rather than banging theirs to rock'n'roll, could be found at a sold-out House of Blues for a much anticipated show from rapper/friend of Kanye, Lupe Fiasco (pictured).

At the outset, anyone could be forgiven for thinking the Foo Fighters got the better deal. After all, hip-hop -- no matter how good on disc -- often comes up short live. And there was no way that Fiasco, coming off two critically acclaimed albums (Food & Liquor, The Cool) could live up to the hype that's followed in their wide wake.

Yet, as with so much conventional wisdom, it would be wrong. Fiasco delivered a powerhouse, 2-hour, 15-minute set that nearly single-handedly rescued hip-hop's live reputation. Playing with a tight-as-cling-wrap 11-piece band (including a rotating crew of four backing singers), Fiasco turned the laid-back, playful, cross-genre promise of his albums into an aggressive, ambitious reminder of what hip-hop at its best can be.

The first half of the set was devoted mostly to Food & Liquor while the second part featured tracks from The Cool. It was an odd way to structure a show (F&L's big hit, Kick Push, came in the middle of the set) but it served to underscore Fiasco's unconventionality.

If his albums are a bit on the whimsical side, the casually charismatic Fiasco and his band toughened up the songs live, lending them a pummeling swagger that didn't destroy their hooks. Songs such as Dumb It Down (an attack on a music industry that profits from negative rap imagery), I Gotcha, and especially a heart-stopping, show-ending Superstar were knockouts.

At one point, Fiasco talked to the crowd about an upcoming new generation -- whether he was talking politically or just in terms of hip-hop is an open question. But judging from the audience's motley mix of black, white, Latin, and Asian, as nearly as many girls as guys, alt-rockers as b-boys, all responding to his ferocity with the same rapt awe, it was easy to believe he might be on to something.

Art Garfunkel: the sounds of aging

GRAND PRAIRIE – There were a lot of very positive things about Art Garfunkel’s concert at Nokia Theatre on Sunday night.

He sang the songs that his fans most wanted to hear –- Bridge Over Troubled Water, The Sounds of Silence, Cecilia, El Condor Pasa and The Boxer –- and threw in a few surprises, such as Randy Newman’s Most Unusual Girl.

He could hardly have been warmer or more personable with the crowd –- if you want to call a gathering charitably estimated at 800 a “crowd.” But if the number of empty seats rankled him in any way, he never showed it.

He was self-effacing and humorous, alluding to having prepared for the show by putting on his hairpiece (how’s that for honesty) and trying to soothe the Metroplex’s wounded psyche by reminding the audience that, “Well, you still have the Mavericks.” And, later in the show, he even changed a very famous lyric to “where have you gone Tony Romo, our nation turns its lonely eyes to you.”

His four-piece band played with exceptional taste and augmented many of the tunes with nice solos.

But for all that was good about the show, it cannot be ignored that Garfunkel’s voice is a shadow of its former self which is often reduced to little more than a whispered rasp.

On Bridge, for example, the 66-year-old singer nailed some of the notes. But in the concluding “I will lay me down” section (where the money notes live), he came up short, hitting some briefly but failing to sustain them.

And the unfairness of it all just made it worse. It is not fair that Garfunkel has to compete with his 25-year-old self, when those fat, soaring high notes came with ease. Now those same phrases sound thin and muted because the originals are etched so indelibly in our ears and hearts. And there is no way to get around that.

The result was an evening of music that, despite its sincerity, offered only echoes of things remembered. The real thing has been stolen by Father Time.

-- Punch Shaw,
Special to the Star-Telegram

Up Close & Personal with a galaxy of young stars

by Darren White
Special to the Star-Telegram

DALLAS -- The Up Close & Personal tour brought five very young radio-ready R&B and rap acts — Lil' Mama, Sean Kingston, Soulja Boy, Bow Wow and Chris Brown — to American Airlines Center Saturday for a show heavy on variety, but lacking in staying power.

If my math is correct, the average age of the performers on the tour is slightly under 18, which means two things: First, that it's impressive that each performer has cultivated a stage act so crowd-pleasing so young, and second, that each still has much to learn to continue to thrive in the music business.

18-year-old headliner Brown, who has the best chance of cultivating a long career, occupied the top slot for good reason. His hard-working professionalism, smooth dance moves and superior stage presence made him far-and-away the most exciting performer of the evening.

Brown rode a cable from the rafters to the stage before kicking into a set that refreshingly lacked much of the gross hyper-masculine sexuality of many R&B crooners. Whether he likes or not, Brown is the singer you'd most like to take home to meet your parents.

Dance moves set Brown apart from the fray. While his voice could best be described as competent, his steps are electrifying. Early in the set, Brown brought out his back-up dancers, including a few under the age of 12, for a friendly dance battle that wowed the crowd.

As for the songs, the set list was full of forgettable radio-pop, but it did include fan-favorites like Gimme That, Kiss Kiss, With You and Take You Down.

Brown is nothing if not a hard worker, though, and his set featured multiple costume changes, including a Saved by the Bell homage, and even a change of stage. He sang Lottery on a revolving platform near the back of the building, a move Brown said was for his fans with bad seats.

The other performers did not fare as well. Having long since dropped the "Lil'," Bow Wow, now 20, is the tour's senior member. Experience aside, his set suffered from sound problems and Bow Wow struggled to keep the crowd entertained with his stage banter until the problem was solved.

The rest of his set dipped heavily into the rapper's back catalog, including two hits, Ghetto Girls and Bow Wow (That's My Name) from his 2000 debut disc Beware of Dog. He also sent out a diss to his ex-girlfriend, R&B star Ciara, midway through his set that sent up screams from his female fans.

Third-billed Soulja Boy just doesn't have enough songs. The majority of his short set revolved his single smash hit, Crank That (Soulja Boy), a tune that is so repetitive, it's nearly guaranteed to turn 17-year-old Soulja, whose real name is DeAndre Way, into a one-hit wonder. Oh, and from where I was sitting, it seemed as if he didn't even rap his biggest tune, opting instead to do the song's corresponding fad dance. Soulja will need to work harder if he plans to be more than a flash in the pan.

Mix 102.9 FM "Eye Candy Christmas": A party platter of pop

by Preston Jones
pjones@star-telegram.com

GRAND PRAIRIE -- Radio station showcases are bite-size introductions to or reunions with a variety of talent. It's a bit like visiting Grandma's and snacking your way through the afternoon, spoiling your dinner -- you're not terribly full, but you've had just enough to sate yourself.

The cold wind blew and intermittent drizzle fell Wednesday night, but the Nokia Theatre crowd that braved the crummy weather enjoyed four distinctly different pop acts, each at fascinating moments in their careers, under the banner of Mix 102.9 FM's "Eye Candy Christmas."

There was Sara Bareilles, a singer/songwriter on her way up the industry ladder, armed with the fantastic single Love Song; the forgettable Connecticut pop-rock band The Last Goodnight, a poor man's Maroon 5; James Blunt, the You're Beautiful maestro struggling to get past that smash's long, long shadow and, finally, Duran Duran, those louche '80s aesthetes who have most recently reinvented themselves with a little help from Justin Timberlake and Timbaland.

Bareilles, who began the evening performing to a room that probably held more people during soundcheck, nevertheless delivered an assured 30-minute set that allowed for a re-examination of the songs from her debut, Little Voice, which hit shelves earlier this year. By turns bluesy and jazzy, Bareilles' smoky voice is well-suited to introspective ballads about love and self-discovery. It was a mature showing, one which augurs well for her nascent career.

The less said about The Last Goodnight, the better -- from the moment they hit the stage, frontman Kurtis John was plugging the band's 2007 debut Poison Kiss and constantly reminding everyone who they were watching. Unfortunately, the sextet's impact was on the order of negligible; aside from current single Pictures of You, none of the tracks they banged out had anything resembling a catchy melody or clever lyrics.

Blunt, who seemed a bit manic during his 40-minute set, plowed through 10 songs, barely stopping to say hello, instead seeming intently focused on playing up material from his latest disc, All the Lost Souls, and paying cursory attention to tracks from freshman effort Back to Bedlam (although he did open and close his set with songs from his debut). New cuts like 1973 and I'll Take Everything fit comfortably with the heart-on-sleeve pathos of Wisemen and, yes, You're Beautiful, suggesting that Blunt's dour sophomore record is a more thought-out artistic gambit than it first seemed.

Headliners Duran Duran, who got a bit of a late start (but then, hey, they've earned it), were unquestionably the main attraction -- the room fairly exploded when the quintet strode onstage. Simon LeBon, ever the charmer, wasted little time working the crowd into a frenzy, diving right into tunes from Duran Duran's latest, Red Carpet Massacre. From the title track to current hit Falling Down, LeBon and crew sounded as though it was 1983 all over again; the years melted away and for most in attendance, it was one of the best Christmas gifts they could've asked for.

Preston Jones is the Star-Telegram pop music critic, 817-390-7713