Manilow's snazzy Vegas warmup
During Broadway's Golden Age, the snazziest of shows ran tryouts through Philly. Barry Manilow's a fan of such periods, with albums dedicated to past decades; to swing, doo wop, and '60s AM-radio pop.
During Broadway's Golden Age, the snazziest of shows ran tryouts through Philly.
Barry Manilow's a fan of such periods, with albums dedicated to past decades; to swing, doo wop, and '60s AM-radio pop.
So, to an extent, that's what Manilow - the singer, composer and pianist who put the "mmmm" into MOR - did in executing his glitzy "Evening of Music and Passion" Saturday at the Wachovia Center, in the process revving up for his next round of regular shows at Las Vegas' Hilton.
His Fan-i-lows didn't mind being guinea pigs - spinning glow-sticks like kids, swooning to every rump-shake Manilow made. Despite problems with an earpiece that found him fidgeting and an initial lack of distinction between sounds within his large ensemble (including many a member of the creamy Philadelphia Orchestra), Manilow was as charmingly hammy and loquaciously interactive as he was dynamic and enthusiastically high-pitched.
How enthusiastic? Manilow not only sang spryer songs - a disco-y "It's a Miracle," a brassy "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You" - an octave higher. Manilow and his crew of costume-changing, dancing background singers crammed his expansive solo oeuvre - from a windswept "Love is a Many Splendored Thing" to the nuanced "Somewhere in the Night" - into 90 Barry-satiating minutes.
Due to the show's near-hardcore pace, even the Courtney Love-looking gal in front of me couldn't stop bobbing her head to the happy-go-lucky likes of "Can't Smile Without You."
When not kibitzing with dancers or trading able Latin piano riffs with his leaping team of keyboardists, Manilow - golden doo nicely spiked, neatly appointed in a slim black suit whose jackets he changed according to the era he was staging - made easy interplay with his audience.
Manilow brought a young redhead on stage to slow- dance while he crooned moonily Glenn Miller's "Moonlight" into her ear with dewy sincerity. While wearing a Nehru jacket, Manilow pulled up an old shag-haired album cover of his and called himself "Sanjaya Manilow."
Self-deprecating moments like those led to Manilow being his best, as when he sang a duet to his 1975 appearance on the Midnight Special by belting out "Mandy" in perfect timing and hearty harmony.
That's snazzy.
