| ||||
|
|
15/01/06 - REXALL PLACE, EDMONTON, AB Review by Mike Ross (Edmonton Sun): This is a sterling example of something that both cuts like a knife and feels so right. He's been stringing cliches together to celebrate this thing we call love for 25 years now. He's sold about 60 million records. He's lunched with royalty. He can still fill hockey arenas, as he did at Rexall Place last night, and he can still bring 12,000 fans to their feet, as he did last night. He is a rock star. And yet all his lyrics sound like Valentine's Day cards written by a high school boy who just got his first car - literally 18 till he dies. Could he not, for a change, back up his incredible legacy by saying something more meaningful beyond "gonna have a blast, gonna make it last?" Could Bryan Adams not still become Canada's Bruce Springsteen or even John Mellencamp?
But no, when it comes to this thing we call love, Bryan's songs barely scratch the surface. Last night's show was another patented litany of rockin' romantic doggerel: Somebody, Heaven, Can't Stop This Thing We've Started, The Only Thing That Looks Good on Me Is You and the heart-string plucker (Everything I Do) I Do It For You batting cleanup after Summer of '69 - No. 1 hits every one and good God, he has a lot of them. On a stark stage and dressed in black, Bryan plowed the furrows of his catalogue. More recent work came early, opening the show with Room Service, a rock song about being a rock star. The theme was explored later in Life Is an Open Road, which is essentially no different than Tom Cochrane's Life Is a Highway. Bryan sang, "I'm sitting at the wheel, I've got a green light, I'm not afraid of nothing, because heart and soul, I'm built for life." And he's going to ride it all night long, or something like that. As if his championship songs didn't win the crowd over, Bryan's formidable showmanship sealed it. The ladies went ape when he asked for a volunteer to come on stage and sing Pamela Anderson's part in Baby, When You're Gone. Apparently one lass was very, very insistent. "Put those away," Adams quipped. "Those will not get you on stage. Those will get you backstage!" Does an off-the-cuff remark like that bring us closer to understanding the enigma that is Bryan Adams? Maybe. Introducing the inevitable Summer of '69, he said that many people make the mistake of assuming the song is about a specific time period, when in fact, "it's inspired by something a lot more provocative, if you know what I'm saying." This is about a deep as it gets. Opening act Daniel Powter comes off like Justin Timberlake and Elton John rolled into one -- a twerpy, bad boy piano man with a penchant for soul and maudlin subject matter. His bittersweet vocals were matched only by the bittersweetness of the material, which was in turn matched only by the general bounciness of the grooves. The whole thing went off the rails when Powter sang in a ridiculous falsetto - something that Bryan Adams, for all his musical shortcomings, would never do - but if this guy could lose about 50% of his preciousness and write 50% better songs, he could be huge. ********** Review
by Tom Murray (Edmonton Journal): Reviewing Bryan Adams presents a bit of a quandary if you have no desire to see the veteran rocker. Short of including Summer of '69 as a guilty pleasure, most of Adams' rather limited selection of unctuous ballads and pro forma roots rockers do not inspire someone raised on slightly edgier music. Let's be honest -- Adams at his best plays unaffected, no frills rock -- sturdy car-radio fodder, all surfaces, glossy in spite of its calculated roughness. At his worst he reduces rock into tired cliches and banal gestures -- Bruce Springsteen with the spine pulled out of him. The Springsteen-lite analogy followed him from the early part of his career, but the part that must hurt the most is the charge of turning adult-oriented rock with the long run of ballads that sent him to the top of the charts and had him working with the likes of Celine Dion. That's the general attitude that critics have always had about Adams, and no matter what you think of it, there's some truth to the fact that his music has been teetering just a hair away from elevator dross for well over a decade now. Last night, Adams kept as far away from the soppy side of his repetoire as he could. Dressed in black T-shirt and jeans, with a similarly attired band backing him, Adams proceeded to pump out hit after hit, barely pausing to switch guitars or banter with the clearly enraptured audience. The ex-Vancouverite (now living in London, England) knocked off three in workmanlike fashion -- Room Service, Somebody, and This Time, before pausing to catch a breath. 18 Til I Die got the requisite fist-pumping going on the part of the audience, along with the de riguer singalong. He is, admittedly, a compelling performer, energetic and committed. His band is tight and workmanlike, with little to no fat to speak of. One thing about Adams -- he knows how to work that big space. Over twenty years of touring stadiums and coliseums has sharpened his skills at working the audience. He tirelessly pulled out moves from The Big Book of Rock Manoeuvres, running from centre stage to side stage, singing into one microphone with his guitar player, checking out his bassist's moves. There was much pointing at the crowd. Of course, this was all to the approval of the fans, most of whom seemed to be between thirty and forty, with a small sprinkling of youngsters about. Like most classic-rock crowds, the point was to revisit youth ---Adams represents good times to a huge chunk of those who came of age in the '80s. Somebody's youth was certainly being revisited -- the 40-ish woman next to me ecstatically air guitared and drummed every part, perilously coming close to depositing her beer on me with every cymbal crash. It was actually the best part of the show -- to see what effect Adams had on this woman, who was enjoying herself in such an unselfconscious, possibly inebriated way. If that woman's rather strong opinion should matter, then opening act Daniel Powter is going to be a huge star. She's probably right; he's got a strong, versatile voice and a knack for clear, unencumbered melodies, plus he knows how to pace a short set. Fond of gently plodding rhythms and ruminative keyboard lines -- running just short of Elton John in some places -- Powter also has the classic-rock book down pat. He's apparently tabbed for greater things, and you can tell, in the ease with which he interacts with the audience, and the already half-familiar songs he pulled out. | |||
|
® 2006 18 Til I Die.co.uk. All
rights reserved.
| ||||
|
Opening the show with 'Room Service'
Bryan at the Rexall Place in Edmonton
Bryan on guitar |
