Columbus Dispatch Reviewer Even More Impressed Upon Further Reflection
The Columbus Dispatch reviewer who reviewed Clay's concert yesterday has gone back to add more to her review. New additions appear in bolded red:
“You don’t even care what you’re screaming at, do you?” Clay Aiken teasingly asked the squealing women scattered across the lawn of Chemical Abstracts Service last night.
“I could say anything.” He paused. “Carburetor.” Women whistled and cheered excitedly.
Aiken, the American Idol runner-up turned adult-pop star, headlined the Columbus Symphony Orchestra’s Picnic with the Pops program last night.
His audience is mostly women; his singing is polished, and his attitude is upbeat. Every moment of his performance is safe and stylized. He exudes sincerity and earnestness, but, like so many pop singers, he lacks compelling originality.
Aiken specializes in adult-contemporary ballads as well as covers of hit soft-rock songs from the 1980s.
His current tour also features medleys of 1970s and ’80s television themes and of “ fast songs you can do with an orchestra,” the latter of which included such silly gems as Sir Mix-A-Lot’s Baby Got Back, Usher’s Yeah, and Kenny Chesney’s She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy.
He also led a singalong of Michael Jackson’s The Way You Make Me Feel, winding among the tables and asking for help with the words (which were handed out in advance).
One of Aiken’s endearing traits is his gently self-depreciating humor.
“We have more gentlemen in the audience than we usually have,” he observed. “Either the women in Columbus are strong-willed, or the alcohol tab is very high for the men here.”
Backup singers Angela Fisher and Quiana Parler, both accomplished musicians in their own right, made strong impressions with solo numbers. Fisher got a huge cheer for Listen from the movie Dreamgirls, while Parler ended the first half of the program with a stirring performance of Faith Hill’s When the Lights Go Down.
The Columbus Symphony Orchestra, unfortunately, seemed to be a minor player. The orchestral arrangements might or might not have been good, but they were drowned out in the front section of seating. Occasionally the brass or violins would cut through Aiken’s band for a few moments, only to be obscured by the next crescendo.
Aiken’s strongest moment was his performance of Lover All Alone, for which he wrote the lyrics. In spite of jarring intonation problems from his guitarist, he loosened his grip on the polished, practiced stage manner and truly connected with his own soul.
And for those few minutes, the squealing fans, the strong-willed women, the devoted husbands and the rest of the audience fell absolutely silent in appreciation.
