Are you Experienced?
by Preston Jones
DALLAS - The ticket promised "The Beyonce Experience" and for better or worse, that's exactly what was delivered to a packed American Airlines Center Friday night.
The Houston native touched all the bases -- pop star, movie star, choirgirl, fashion plate, diva, gracious native daughter ("It's feels so good to be home in Texas") - in an extravaganza that wouldn't be out of place in a Vegas casino. From the fiery opening moments to the myriad costume changes, Beyonce never missed a step in the swirl of elaborate, precisely choreographed pageantry.
Her game plan seemed to hinge upon cramming the stage full of as much as possible, as often as possible -- the 10-piece backing band, enough back-up dancers to form a starting lineup for the Rangers and video screens capturing every well-lit angle dominated the music, overpowering rather than enhancing it. It was just too much.
But that was the point. Every moment was carefully designed for maximum impact; there were no subtle, solemn or soft segments. Beyonce seemed determined to keep the show's momentum (and the crowd's adrenaline) rushing. Deadlines prevented me from seeing the entire show, but the energy hadn't dipped as I left, and I can't imagine it ever did.
Speaking of dips, there's also the matter of her look-at-me vocal runs near the conclusion of Jill Scott's He Loves Me (Lyzel in E Flat). Beyonce has never met a giant, sustained note she didn't like and while the deafening crowd ate it up, but it did nothing to advance the song emotionally. For that matter, I'm not buying the crocodile tears at the end of Flaws and All, either. It was startling, but that's called acting class, not connecting with your material.
One of the genuine bright spots was her backing band (culled from auditions with amateurs) but again, there were just too many of them. Most were allowed a brief moment to shine but wisely didn't pull focus. False feelings and glitzy overload aside, it cannot be overstated: "The Beyonce Experience" was precisely that, a gaudy spectacle that dazzled as it exhausted.
Opening act Robin Thicke, who has to be glowing from the heaps of adulation piled upon his third album The Evolution of Robin Thicke, sweated his way through an intense, soulful set. His passionate grunts and suggestive gyrations -- not to mention that feather-light falsetto -- raised the temperature in the room by a few dozen degrees. The flashbulbs didn't cease for much of his performance and the adoring screams turned absolutely painful when Thicke eased into his signature hit Lost Without U.
Preston Jones is the Star-Telegram pop music critic, 817-390-7713.
