Saturday, August 27, 2005

Clay and a Jukebox Equals a Groovetacular Spectacular: Crawford County Fair, August 21, 2005

I was looking out the window Monday morning, and I couldn’t help but notice that the atmospheric conditions were ominous. A hefty breeze was buffeting about the branches of the tree in our front yard, and bloated rain clouds hovered overhead, steely and overwhelming. Not a patch of blue was to be seen. Looking back on last Saturday, I recalled that while attending a wedding reception, I caught a glimpse of the parking lot when a guest came inside, and rain was pummeling the pavement. So I felt especially fortunate that when I went to the Crawford County Fair last Sunday with my mom and my best friend, the sun was shining brightly and the sky was a glorious shade of blue – to match the eyes of the person we had driven an hour to see.

This was my third Clay Aiken concert. (Alas that I missed the Christmas tour!) The first time I saw the North Carolina crooner in concert, he was joined by most of his fellow Top 12 American Idol contestants. This meant having to suffer through many performances in which Clay played no part (and “suffer” seems especially appropriate when referring to some of the girls’ numbers *cough*Kim Caldwell*cough*). But it was a charged atmosphere, and the competitive nature of the audience made for extra entertainment. We saw fans of each of the contestants sporting homemade gear and signs (and our crew brought a couple of our own). By far the most creativity went into expressions of adoration for Clay, though, and I felt a great sense of solidarity and I allowed myself to squeal heartily whenever he took to the stage.

Last year’s concert was a bit different. I went with a different group of fans – my family – and instead of a massive indoor arena, we congregated in the grandstand of Pennsylvania’s largest county fair. Wandering around the fair, we could tell who was attending for the same reasons we were. Clay shirts, both homemade and official, were in abundance. I did my fair share of shrieking from my seat, which was dead center in the upper level of the grandstand. That is, once he came out. First an opening band took the stage, and then another half hour or so of stage rearrangement followed before Clay finally graced us with his presence.

In Crawford County, we found a similar throng of Claymates bedecked in fantastic clothing. The Clay t-shirts increased as the show time drew nearer. Near the grandstand entrance, a woman was selling teddy bears, one of which sported a t-shirt embroidered with a rainbow colored “Clay Aiken.” Fans snatched these right up, and I had to put in an order before I headed off to the show. The first nice surprise came even before we entered, when my mom learned, to our surprise, that cameras were allowed. Consequently, I wished that I had brought more film or a digital camera. But at least I had a third of a roll of film, and I was happy to be able to use that, especially when I realized just how close our seats were. I’ve never been too handy with maps, so I was unaware that I had managed to score tickets in the fifth row. Boy, was that a nice surprise! From our vantage point, we were just feet away from those lucky folks lined up for a private pre-concert audience with the man himself. While Libbie and I went off to brave the crowd at the souvenir stand – which rather disappointingly was only able to accept cash at the time – Mom got to chat with one of the Meet and Greeters after her exclusive encounter. Sounded like Clay was classy all the way. It’s quite easy to strike up a conversation at a Clay concert, and some fans display their affection so creatively that they’re just inviting all sorts of comments. Another way we occupied our time prior to the concert was by checking out the Bubel Aiken Foundation booth and volunteering our services as gift wrappers at a local store this Christmas. As the starting time of the concert drew closer, however, we made sure we were firmly in our seats. The fans sitting next to us were veterans of this tour, and they informed us that We Built This City on Rock and Roll signaled the beginning of the show. So when it came, we were ready.

The concept of the show is fun and clever, and it is especially appropriate given the fact that Clay became famous on a show where he sang mostly standards from the sixties and seventies. I love jukeboxes. When I see one in a restaurant, I am unable to resist plunking in a quarter and blasting the song of my choice across the room, perhaps to the embarrassment of my companions. It seems, however, that I am not alone in my admiration for the retro music machine. It is the central prop for this summer tour, and I walked away with the renewed impression that nothing says groovy like a jukebox. Clay’s crew got things started by accepting a quarter from an audience member and putting it in a giant jukebox in the center of the stage. When the record began to skip, they each tried their hand at fixing the problem. Then Clay came strutting out in a leather jacket, flanked by his two female backup singers, and his magic touch got the jukebox back into working order, at which point the concert could officially start.

When I first heard that Clay would be singing more than 70 songs during the Jukebox Tour, I wondered whether that meant he alternated songs. What it really meant was a lot of medleys, which allowed for a wide range of songs. The show managed to be educational as well as entertaining, giving an abbreviated history of rock and roll. The fifties was a riot, with Clay giving his feet a workout with such fare as Twistin’ the Night Away, That’ll Be the Day and Great Balls of Fire. (His fancy footwork atop the piano was especially enjoyable.) Unchained Melody, a Clay staple, got the full treatment, much to the delight of the audience. I also learned that four different versions of this song were once on the chart at the same time. Of course, it was the Righteous Brothers’ that really took off. In any case, Clay did the song justice. The second half of the decade was dedicated to another young Southern, Christian mama’s boy who inspired legions of squealing teenie-boppers. Nine Elvis songs went past quickly, starting with Love Me Tender, with Clay crooning softly while playing the piano, and ending with the upbeat Suspicious Minds.

The sixties started off with brief homage to another teen idol. Clay Aiken channeling Davy Jones is not a sight to be missed. There was also a very nice introduction to the events of the sixties and the significant role music played in a tumultuous decade. I was a bit disappointed that the list included only one Beatles song, and that of all the songs he could have chosen he went with Can’t Buy Me Love. Not very inspiring if you ask me. Perhaps Clay isn’t as suited to the Beatles as he is to Elvis, but I would have loved a mop-top medley. Motown got the most attention, and he and his backup singers did a fine job with it, but there are so many other singers I would like to have seen represented. If it were up to me, I would have lingered twice as long in this decade and dipped heavily into the folk-rock offerings as well as a wider array of pop. Nonetheless, what we got was great. This decade’s full-length highlight was Solitaire, another song that effectively sends shivers up the spine. Happy Together, My Girl and I’ll Be There were other standouts. This decade also afforded Clay the opportunity to amuse the audience with a bit of lively banter. His ease with this task was apparent as he asked how many guys in the audience had been dragged to this concert by a wife or significant other. Then he singled out one guy in the front row, who was stuck with a sign announcing that he had been hood-winked into attending this show. “She told me I was going to an Iron Maiden concert,” he complained, showing Clay his concert gear. Clay invited the couple onstage, and when further conversation revealed that they had come all the way from Columbus, Ohio, he could not contain his mirth, especially given the fact that he had given a concert there only a week or so earlier. Clay promised future participation from this gullible guy, and the hapless fellow was whisked backstage to prepare for his starring role.

The twenty-minute intermission allowed an opportunity for us to text message Clay with our cell phones. I’d never text messaged before, but I figured it out just in time for my message to appear on the giant screen where everyone’s notes were displayed as they were sent. It kept us occupied until Clay came back out for the second half of the concert, whose opening number included a cameo by a bead-wearing, afro-clad, dancing Iron Maiden fan. Disco was the main theme of the seventies. I would have loved to see more of a singer-songwriter focus; he didn’t even sing one Elton John song! But disco is always fun, and watching Clay try to make the proper moves was good for a few laughs (and a couple delighted squeals). Barry Manilow was well represented, as Clay sang Mandy all the way through, but the highlight here was Bridge Over Troubled Water, which made me very happy even with the second first missing, though it really went better with the music from the sixties. I consider that an extension of the decade. Simon and Garfunkel don’t belong to the seventies. But he did a beautiful job with my favorite song, and I was thrilled to stand up and use my cell phone in place of a lighter as the audience swayed to the music.

The first three decades covered in the concert were my favorites; that’s where pretty much all the music I listen to comes from. But the nice thing about covering so much ground is that there’s something for everybody. Libbie preferred the more recent music and was familiar with most of the songs, many of which I’d never heard before. Just as I’d hoped for Elton John, I wanted to see Billy Joel in here somewhere, but no luck. Instead, there were more modern-sounding artists including Michael Jackson and Prince and later M. C. Hammer and Ricky Martin. (Can Clay out-dance William Hung? This is the place to find out!) I was surprised to hear Iris from City of Angels, as it didn’t strike me as a Clay-sounding song, but he pulled it off very well. The concert ended with a medley of songs from Clay’s first album and a duo of songs from the upcoming third. These were pretty catchy and upbeat, a great teaser for an album we’ll have to wait several months for. Probably my favorite part of concert as it was wrapping up, however, was when he played Stump the Band. The first suggestion did stump the band, and the second one Clay couldn’t even seem to understand. But the third was When a Man Loves a Woman, and someone in the front row conveniently had the lyrics and tabs in her pocket, so the band tackled it, and Clay belted out the power ballad that was so perfectly suited to him.

The show was very solid, well over two hours of music. In addition to Clay, there was a whole team of talented musicians. Backup singers Angela Fisher, Quiana Parker and Jacob Luttrell made a particularly strong impression. Their brilliant vocals enhanced many songs and were allowed to shine solo at several points in the show. These were the same three who wowed me at last year’s concert, and it was nice to see them still on board this year. The rest of the band included S’von Ringo (musical director / keyboards), Clarence Allen (keyboards), Daniel Pearson (bass guitar), Andy Abad (guitar), Felix “D-Kat” Pollard (drums), Kerry Loeschen (trombone) and Mike Uhler (trumpet). There was very little overlap song-wise between the show I attended last year and this show. It was an entirely different experience, but equally satisfying. More so, probably, what with our extraordinarily good seats. And the humble attitude behind the concert made it all the more enjoyable. This, from the program: “I’m so excited to have a chance to remember and pay tribute to some of the hitmakers of my generation and of earlier, ‘more experienced’ generations. … I’m thrilled that you’ve chosen to join us on this ‘journey’ through some of the more memorable songs of the past.”

I’m pleased I joined him as well, and I have little doubt that one day Clay Aiken will be numbered among those timeless artists. For now, I am just grateful to have the opportunity to see him live, and I will almost certainly exercise that privilege once again when he embarks upon his second Joyful Noise Christmas tour. And maybe, just maybe, if Santa is extra kind, there will be a Meet and Greet for me in the not so distant future.

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