I want to be Michael Bublé. That's the one thought that kept coming back to mind, from the opening notes to his final bow. This man is just. plain. cool. But, before Bublé ever took the stage, there was opener Naturally 7.
Naturally 7 is a group of seven a cappella singers who distinguish themselves by performing what they call "vocal play": the use of voices to closely simulate the sounds of real instruments. There was a "bass player" (who from the upper bowl looked kind of like the love child of Barack Obama and Shia LeBoeuf), a "DJ", a "drummer", and "harmonica-ist", a "guitarist" and probably a few that I'm missing. At its best, the group members were given the opportunity to showcase their individual talents; the "guitarist" was especially astounding in his ability to sound like a guitar solo. At its not-so-best, with all the sounds coming together, the focus shifted to the singing vocalists, who I'm not going to say aren't great singers, but there's a reason that these guys are supported by a large group. Whether you consider it kitsch or simply a different branch of musicianship, it's the instrumental replication that gives this band its appeal. It's the kind of thing you'd expect to see the judges and crowd of America's Got Talent get all slack-jawed and applause-happy about, before they eventually lose to a tap-dancing orphan. Regardless, it was a decent way to warm up the show, and the crowd was loving it.
Then, after a none-too-long break, he arrived. Up until the song started, I was starting to worry. I was thinking things like "What am I doing here? I've know maybe four of this guy's songs." But, I couldn't back out now, and within moments, I was feeling greatly relieved. To be honest, this all happened about a week ago and a half ago, so I don't really remember what song he started off with, but I do recall that it was jazzy but still had enough kick that he somehow got away with a big fireworks explosion at the end. Initial reaction: Was that really necessary? Immediate secondary reaction: No, but I loved it.
After the first song (maybe two? Like I said, it's been awhile), Bublé started talking to crowd and here was where I really got hooked. Michael Bublé is very aware of and concerned with how he is perceived. He's also very open about this process, as he quipped "Now, I know what all you guys here with your girlfriends are thinking... This guy is SO gay." But, he does everything he can to dismantle these perceptions, making himself accessible to a more universal crowd (or as universal you can get in London, Ontario). One of the very first things he did was to take the time to read the signs that people had made for the show. He responded to each "we love you" with an "I love you, too," and had the first of his many great one-liners when he read a sign that said "I DROVE 1000KM TO SEE YOU" and responded "why would you do that, you crazy bitch?" Any other banter was along the same lines, pushing the envelope of what you would expect a guy in a tuxedo to be saying and doing. Anytime that Bublé was talking and NOT convincing us he was a potty-mouthed guy we'd love to be having a few brews with, he was being insanely gracious to the crowd for coming out. He was honest, and almost apologetic, for the price these people were willing to pay to see him perform. At $90/ticket for our upper bowl seats, he knew and acknowledged the kind of money that people were throwing down and repeatedly and sincerely thanked the crowd repeatedly.
And, there was also some great music. I've never been into jazz or big band swing, and the concert didn't do a whole lot to change my mind, but it did make me feel a little uncultured. Here is a guy whose career is indebted to dozens of other singers, performers, and song-writers, all of whom he graciously acknowledges. Bublé is aware of the history of the art he performs and is respectful of it, even with his own little pyrotechnic twists. The music also did occasionally deviate from what you'd expect, as small spats of Michael Jackson, Stompin' Tom Connors, and The Beatles, provided the opportunity for the less-jazzy in the audience to enjoy familiarity, instead of just Bublé's impeccable voice.
Backing Bublé was a large, and wicked good band, who seemed to share a fraternal bond with each other. Instead of simply introducing each band member as "so and so on alto sax," each guy got a special introduction, often describing the gentleman's sexual prowess. None of the names stuck, but I will likely never forget that one guy was described as "a dirty, dirty, slut. I wish there was some other way to tell you this." And, at every opportunity, the performers responded throughout the concert with incredible solos, with particular mind-blowingness coming from the two trumpet solos.
So that's pretty much it. It was a great show, led by one of the best entertainers I've ever seen, filled with mostly unfamiliar but incredibly performed music, and lots of laughs. The lucky men in the audience went home with their wives and went straight to sleep. The unfortunate ones went home, and had confusing sex during which their wives refused to look them in the eye. Me, I went home and dreamed of being as cool as Michael Bublé.
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