The idea of Allstar Weekend, the latest in an endless line of fresh-faced boy bands ( starting with the Osmonds right up to the Jonas Brothers ) , grosses me out. Boy bands are clean-scrubbed, choreographed, ( seemingly ) pure at heart, and calculated to send their target audience ( pre-teenage and teenage girls ) into a tizzy. The intention is to pander to an audience that wants to be pandered to as well as to inspire the approval of parents so the cash flow stays wide open for those $100 concert tickets and that subscription to Tiger Beat Magazine.
Heaven forbid if those parents knew years ago what we know nowthat cute little Ricky Martin and Lance Bass are butt pirates and that apple-cheeked Justin Timberlake would bring sexy back with his dick in a box. As pre-packaged teen dreams, boy bands are the ultimate in cold hard cynicism; even animated bands like the Archies and Josie and the Pussycats were far more genuine because you knew they weren't real. Being a hard wired 100% homo conditioned me not to like Allstar Weekend; after all, I'm not the sort who goes trolling for twinks and all that squealing and seat-wetting was never my thing. For me it was entirely beside the point if they were good or not.
Well, it is the point because they are actually very good. Yes, they're fresh-scrubbed; yes, they pandered although in an inoffensive way; and, yes, their full-length Suddenly Yours ( Hollywood Records ) is two notches above bubble-gum pop, albeit high quality bubblegum pop. And, yes ( more importantly ) , the mob of girls at the Lights Festival show screamed there heads off. Besides all that, "Hey Princess" was streamlined, smooth, had clean hooks and was to the point; pop generally doesn't come any blunter than this. And while vocalist Zachery Porter kept clutching his chest for "throbbing romantic emphasis" during "A Different Side of Me" and proffered his devotion, you couldn't say that he didn't mean every word. Onstage "The Weekend" turned into a rowdy bopper but the clincher was "Dance Fever," which indicated that these guys had spent some quality time with vintage Giorgio Moroder. Better still, rather than eschewing snappy dance moves, blocking and choreography, Allstar Weekend had a spontaneity that was all bounce, jolliness and fizz. Obviously, they were too busy having fun to be cynical or calculated; after all, today's Allstar Weekend festival tour is tomorrow's New Kids on the Block/Backstreet Boys monster event.
For a far more refined quality of pop, Melissa Manchester's show at SPACE the week before was almost from another planet. Where Allstar Weekend's pop was instantly disposable, Manchester's was of a heady tradition that stretched back nearly a century. Cabaret, Cole Porter, Peter Allen, Rogers and Hammerstein, Ella Fitzgerald, Bacharach and David, Phil Spector, jazz, Sondheim, the Gershwins, Broadway, girl groups ... it was hard to imagine if she left anything out. As if it weren't enough to have Justin Hayford as her opener and her own compositions on top of everything else made this show beyond memorable. To see her on this rare tour at SPACE, one of two of the most intimate and elegant venues in Illinois ( the other being the Gary and Laura Maurer Concert Hall at the Old Town School of Folk Music ) made this an event on a grand scale.
What has she been up to all this time? She's been writing and performing for theater ( I Wrote A Letter to My Love with Jeff Sweet ) and film ( the score for Disney's Lady and the Tramp II; Scamp's Adventure ) while enjoying matrimony and motherhood. Manchester joked that her kids insisted that she go on this tour to get her out of the house, which was as good a reason as any.
Once she sat down at her piano though the music poured out and had the effect of ether on this SRO crowd. There were "Whenever I Call You Friend," "Through the Eyes of Love," "Come In from the Rain," a fiery "I Know Who I Am" from Tyler Perry's For Colored Girls, an intoxicating "A Mother's Prayer," a lilting "Angels Dancing" and storieslots and lots of stories. She related how back in the early '70s she and writing partner Carole Bayer Sager submitted a demo for their song, "Midnight Blue," to Dionne Warwick's producers in hopes that she would record it. Instead of the expected rejection they were surprised to get an inquiry as to who the voice on the tape belonged to. Of course it became Manchester's first top-10 hit and she joked that she had no idea if Warwick had heard it yet. From there she paid homage to her influences and stamped them with her own personality; a slow-burning "Son of a Preacher Man" ( Dusty Springfield ) , a riveting "Being Alive" ( Sondheim ) , a pristine "Face the Music and Dance" ( Porter ) , a patient "Something Wonderful" ( Rogers and Hammerstein ) and a reworked a capella take on "Be My Baby" ( the Ronettes ) .
With Susan Holder ( on backing vocals ) and Stephan Oberhoff ( on guitar ) "Don't Cry Out Loud" revealed why this show was worth waiting a decade. A tear-yanking ballad of the most sincere and emotionally honest type, the lyrics go right to the point of romantic abandonment and disappointment. Peter Allen's composing is so lacking in contrivance and flab and is so economical that it makes most recent power ballads sound gimmicky, overblown and toothless. Where any lesser diva would blow out SPACE's brick back wall on the dramatic choruses, Manchester held back and elegantly pirouetted through them. By letting the words do the talking she took ownership of the room with astounding grace and control. Who cared if the song was one of her biggest hits or that you'd heard it a million times through the decades? What she did with it here pushed this audience to the edges of their seats and kept them hanging on every word.
Head's up: Fantasia will be performing at the Auditorium Theater Thursday, Dec. 30, while Robyn will be back for a show at the Riviera Theater on Feb. 11, 2011.