Hitting the Right Notes: Alicia Keys at Madison Square Garden

Sun, Jun 22, 2008

Alicia Keys at Madison Square Garden

The men strapped in safety harnesses, climbed into cantankerous contraptions. In tandem, the swings moved to the top of the auditorium suspended for two hours time. They were the light guys for the Alicia Keys arena tour, crew members in a full-scale blown out production, trained to follow cues enhancing the dancing, singing and piano playing extravaganza.

Lexus, the title sponsor of the Alicia Keys ticket, graciously offered me two tickets for the final sold out date of her tour, not far from where Ms. Keys grew up in Hell’s Kitchen. I accepted without knowing that the seats would be stellar — row M, main floor. For any Alicia Keys fan, this would be a dream come true.

There’s something about the energy of a soldout crowd in the anticipatory moment. It’s been sometime since I last attended a mega arena concert. I suppose it was Jay-Z at the Meadowlands for the Best of Both Worlds, minus R Kelly who dropped out and was replaced by a super concert roster of rap stars. My fondest concert memories are locked in my Michigan childhood — Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation Tour, U2 and the Pixies, Madonna for Who’s that Girl and Depeche Mode. Then there are the more odd ball — Def Leppard, the Grateful Dead, and Pink Floyd. My all-time favorite concert was Prince at the Fox Theater, but that was intimate compared to the arenas — the Palace (home of the Pistons) and the Silverdome (former home of the Detroit Lions). What these concerts did was make me a fan, swept up in the blaring sounds, flashing lights, as I patiently waited for the hits that might not come until the encore.

Much has changed in concert production — better sound, bigger up close video, and no more lighters, replaced by cell phones glinting in a sea of swaying arms. Now the openers are often big stars in their own right. I missed Jordin Sparks but caught enough of Neyo to see why he is the new generation voice of r n’b, enchanting the young crowd with a cameo Rihanna appearance.

What made this show distinct from others I have seen was the dual persona that Keys carried off as an r n’b soul pop star. To set the drama, an elaborate short film delivered her from the Pulpit center stage to her hungry fans. The sassy 20-something strutted with her mic in unapolagetic tight black jeans, and an equally tight bodice, surrounded by a b boys and back up dancing divas. She might not be Janet or Beyonce, but she did her best to prove that she could play the part of pop star.

It wasn’t until her co-star - a shiny grand piano — emerged on stage that Keys found her pocket in the groove. She was already sweaty with melted makeup, but seemed not to notice or care, as she settled into her reportoire — entertaining ” Prince’s Why Don’t You Call Me?”with flirty winks and pouty nods in a sultry diva voice, recreating the hit from her 2002 album. At the moment, we all loved Alicia. Let’s set things straight –I am not a true Keys fan. In fact, I reluctantly find myself liking a few of her songs. However, I’m a sucker for a true performer going for the gusto — and at her piano she did — a songbird with light fingers tracing the keys. Keys won me over in these moments of musicality.

Then, it was back to the choreography — and the energy lulled for up-tempo songs that only her hardcore fans know. I noticed that she switched mics - and I suspect she may have lipsynced a song or two, unless there was a delay on the reverb. Hmm. But back to the keyboards and pianos, and she was in her element again, breath audible — and her timing was impeccable. Another cover was a show stealer “Tender Love,” originally performed by the Force M.D.S and composed by Terry Lewis and Jimmy Jam in 1986. Her performance of recent hits, “Superwoman” and her showstopping closers “Fallin’” and “If I Ain’t Got You” were commanding. “No One” had the crowd standing and I swayed, though this definitely is not my favorite song ever. That’s what happens in a mega-concert moment.

Keys, the virtuoso, who just wanted to play her piano and sing her heart out to her fans, was far more convincing and endearing than the stilted diva. While she can move, swivel and strut when she feels like it, she doesn’t need to, and the NY Daily News critics agree with me. Keys, herself, seemed unconcerned with visual — no makeup touch ups and minor changes of sweaty clothes, wet hair hanging in her face. What’s wrong with a young talent jamming with her band and interacting with an adoring audience? That’s old-fashioned, good entertainment.