Last night they loved you…(and the night before that, etc.)
While we’re waiting for the setlist for the last of David’s three shows at the Rosemont Theatre in Chicago, and following on from the review from the that we posted on Wednesday, here’s a roundup of a few more online reviews. I’ve only used snippets here, but each title links to the full review.
The pictures I’ve used over the last few days were taken by Tony Bonyata, who was also responsible for this first review… A talented man indeed:
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For the first of his three intimate performances at the Rosemont Theatre last night, David Bowie proved exactly why he has one of the most long-lasting, lucrative careers in the music business.
When the 57-year old elder statesmen of rock emerged onto the stage, it was almost shocking to find him appearing some twenty years younger than his actual age. Clad in a tattered black waistcoat, mangy ascot, beat-up Chuck Taylors and black hip-hugging jeans with a ‘how’s it hangin’ belt dangling front-and-center, the slender singer looked like a high-seas buccaneer fresh from pillaging the local Goodwill. Oddly enough (or maybe not so odd at all in Bowie’s case) this hodge-podge of stage attire actually looked quite hip (but, let’s face it, this guy could make a Hefty bag look cool).
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Throughout the night, Bowie’s vocal prowess was awe-inspiring. Not only did he project, but he injected even well-worn favorites with subtleties, choosing alternate notes to liven things up in tunes such as “All the Young Dudes” and “Suffragette City” without compromising the songs.
Taking good-natured jabs at Chicago–“You wouldn’t know a tan if you saw one. Face it.”–and quizzing the audience on its knowledge of modern architecture–“Do you like Louis Sullivan?”–were all part of this effortlessly charismatic performance.
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While on stage, he somehow managed to look great in a sneakers and tight t-shirt outfit a perky teenage girl might wear. The little details that have always distinguished Bowie remain intact as he approaches his late 50s. His voice has retained its beautifully freaky midrange and seductive lows. And Bowie is still skinny with a good head of hair — he hasn’t let himself decay in front of his audience.
Bowie’s original arrangements worked decades ago, and they work now and don’t sound like they’re chained to pop music trends. These are solid songs and will remain so, independent of the many phases Bowie has gone through.
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David Bowie made his entrance in the dark Tuesday night at the Rosemont Theatre. With only his silhouette illuminated, the 57-year-old sang the opening lines of “Rebel Rebel” before the lights came up, exposing his surfer hair, Converse sneakers, tattered tuxedo tails and porcelain white smile. For an innovator whose shifting personas in his early career earned him a reputation as the original rock chameleon, (Stop that now – Blammo) Bowie is at a stage where his most effective mask is eternal youth.
“The Man Who Sold the World” from 1970 preceded a stroll atop high platforms during “Hallo Spaceboy” from 1995, both songs dealing with space age chaos. (News to me – Blammo) The most relevant coupling — “I’m Afraid of Americans” and “Heroes” — did not need explaining. When the grinding guitars, paranoid chorus and Christ-like postures of the first met the swooning optimism of the second, Bowie expressed more about the state of world affairs over the past few years than most political pundits ever could.
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David Bowie managed to redefine cool at the first of three sold-out stints at Rosemont Theatre last night. From his operatic sweeps to his more lustful, baritone intonations, Bowie danced, flirted, donned a guitar for many of the songs, and strutted his way through the hit-filled 25-song set, garnering the attention one of his long legacy should command. From his confident swagger to his playful feminine hand-on-jutted-hip poses, he may be the only man approaching 60 who could come off sexy while asking to borrow one’s eyeliner. Having recently turned 57, many of his contemporaries have taken on a leathery quality, and some can barely muster the performances they should for the price of admission; Bowie looks positively vital and his age-defying applies to the music he delivered during his marathon two-hour-plus set.
He remained so cool that even when slightly prodding political statements were made, the audience seemed none the wiser — for better or worse. He smoothly sandwiched the ’97 penned, though relevant (especially at this moment) “I’m Afraid Of Americans” with the song “Heroes,” saying, “Every story has two sides. This one’s for you.” No Dixie Chicks revolts over here, which speaks as much to the respect he commands as it does to the Chicago audience. Though the audience’s lack of reaction to his very important comment later in the show did leave a bit to be desired. Prior to “Pablo Picasso,” the first song of his encore, he beckoned the audience to shout out their phone numbers. Only a few did, so he requested it again, “C’mon, don’t be afraid to tell me. You’ll be telling it to all the airports soon,” which disappointingly seemed to go over the heads of much of the audience. Much kudos to Bowie for making an eloquent point, without detracting from the entertaining performance, about these strange days and are ever-narrowing civil liberties.
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So, there ya have it kidz. Looks like the whole world is in agreement with us… David Bowie’s A Reality Tour is really rather good.