The woman siting next to me at Radio City Music Hall Wednesday, May 2nd, is having a long conversation with Barry Manilow.
" I had an operation on my hips" Barry announces.
"I know I read about it." the woman replies.
"But I put my faith in a higher power…" Barry continues, "Vicodin".
"That's very funny, Barry" the woman chuckles. "I thought you meant God was the higher power."
"But seriously, I couldn't have made it without all your love, all your emails and prayers…"
"So you got them?" The woman responded. "I wasn't sure you would. Anyway, you're here now."
The woman's intimate responses to the 68 year old adult contemporary giant's patter might be more surprising if it didn't seem as though the entire audience was doing the same. thing. Manilow, a master of song, performed an intimate and oversized set of musical largese to a mostly female, mostly 50 plus audience of fanatics. His large voice, augmented by back-up tapes, sounded husky on the third night of his residency, his hip replacement has left him with ambulatory restrictions, and I, like you, have problems with chucks of his repertoire, but none of it matters. At Radio City his gentle persona, limited ego and just plain unassuming sweetness is transformed by sweep and skills into a frothy, wonderful concert.
In the 1970s, Barry had five top ten albums -AT THE SAME TIME, so, yeah, he has a huge catalog and except for holding back "Mandy", "Copacabana" and "I Write The Songs" to the end of the show, he is very generous with it. Wearing a dapper blue suit and with arms stretched like a certain other populist, his first four songs, all weak, are performed so well, you have to ignore they are really pretty dreadful, and by the fifth, in which he calls for the audience to stand up and sing along (somehow or other they manage it), we all swing along to a joyful "Can't Smile Without You", and really, resistance is indeed futile.
if you thought all Barry Manilow was was an earlier generations Clay Aiken, on stage he shows what a real showman can do. With a rough voice, he tops out a song, he brings you to it, a terrible song like "I Am Your Child" you have to buy in. Barry never ever overplays his hand, it's not so much restraint as momentum. He allows the songs to build and build, so when he goes for the big finale he has worked his way there, when Celine Deon is dealing with a bad song, she just oversings her way to the end, Bette Midler, winks at you, makes you in on the joke, but Manilow sings his ay through it: he lets the shading happen naturally.. Listning to some of these songs now, "Trying To Get the Feelin' Again" is unlistenable, I am amazed at his achievement. The band, two keyboard players is about as exotic as gets (not even any horns) are concise, precise, at first a bit too loud, but they get the sound better as the set progresses. Two dancers are a visual complement to the somewhat static Manilow who keeps his hop movements to a minimum.
And most importantly, Manilow is a graceful host. There isn't a musician who can't learn from this performance. Springsteen, who has very little little to learn about the stage, and who I blew off to catch Barry, could learn how you can be big without being condescending. Manilow can sell you a song without making you feel like your emotions are being manipulated. Whenever Elton John frowns and starts studying the piano, I wanna hide under my seat but Manilow is content to play his piece and leave it alone.
The stage is thread bear -really noting except a couple of screens. But what he shows when its not simply close monitor, is worth seeing. Bandstand first TV performance leads to a tribute to Dick Clark and "Bandstand Anthem", a story of how he recorded his first song at a Time Square record your voice for a quarter includes the actual recording and pictures of the young Barry and Grandfather. The song he is building to, "This Ones for You" is a terrible power ballad but I kinda forgot how much I hated it.
Manilow's problems as a songwriter became clearer with a cover of the Bacharah/David "This Guy's In Love With You". The songs low/low axis, moves from a subdued seduction to a joyous noise. It is a wonder of song construction. And Barry sings it well. But he could have never written it.
Having made that complaint loud and often by now, "Weekend In New England", "Mandy", "Can't Smile Without You" are a handful of terrific songs.
AND EVEN IF THEY WEREN'T…
By the end I am dancing along to one of the worst songs I've ever heard "Copacabana" and when Barry asked of I was having a good time, told him. "Yeah, thanks, Barry, crazy busy at work. You know how it goes. But I feel real good right now…"
Grade:A