Monday, July 26, 2010

Michael Bublé @ Montreal Jazz Festival

Every pop star owes something to his predecessors, and Michael
Bublé is no exception. Admittedly, the holy trinity to whom he
pays homage, Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley, Bobby Darin, isn't
quite what you'd expect of a 29 year old pop idol, particularly
one whose female fans are fond of screaming, 'We love you Michael!'
or 'Take it off!' But the strangest thing about Bublé's debt to
the past is how little it feels like nostalgia.
When the Vancouver-born singer took the stage at Place des Arts,
to a sold-out show, to launch the 26th Montreal International
Jazz Festival, it was not as some swivel-hipped savior of swing,
but rather as a charming young pop star who just happens to prefer
big-band brass to screaming guitars. He never tried to be cool and
that made him totally hot! If all you know are his recordings on
disc, his shtick seems to be singing pop songs as if rock 'n' roll
never happened, conjuring some parallel universe in which Queen's
'Crazy Little Thing Called Love' was a swing tune and the Beatles'
'Can't Buy Me Love' bore the stamp not of George Martin but of
Count Basie's arranger.
He does that on stage, too, but the impact is completely different.
For one thing, he dispenses with the jazz fetishism that weighs
down most retro-swing acts. While it's easy to catch echoes of
his heroes in Bublé's set, his performance never smacks of
impersonation. Somehow, he manages to take on the likes of 'Come
Fly With Me' and convey its punchy, finger-snapping charm without
falling into the Sinatra emulation. His Elvis bits, particularly
the cocked hips and rakish silhouette, were simply playful.
The artist Bublé most clearly recalls is everyman crooner Bing
Crosby. Just as Crosby cultivated the image of an easy-going,
average guy who just happened to be able to sing, Bublé’s mellifluous
delivery is so effortless and unaffected that it's easy not to
notice how much power his voice actually has (the last verse of
'A Song for You', was audible from the back of the hall without
a microphone).
It doesn't hurt that Bublé is funny. Not only was his between-
songs banter full of self-deprecating wit. (He joked that he was
happy to hear fans scream, 'I love you Michael!' 'I know that next
week it'll be, 'I love you Clay Aiken!') But he slipped in some
good musical gags as well, mocking the pop operatic 'Il Divo' with
a vocal impression that was more Jim Nabors than Placindo Domingo.
In short, it was the kind of performance that would turn even
a casual listener into a fan.


* Reviewed July 2, 2005

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