[ad_1]
From enhancing one joyous festivity to leading another. Two days removed from an appearance at the final night of the Democratic National Convention with her daughter, Pink blew into Soldier Field Saturday and threw one helluva celebration of life. She ran through its ups and downs, dreams and disappointments, safe landings and bruising crashes. Above all, the singer conveyed what it means to be fully alive — and what it takes to ensure that nothing robs you of that right.
Feeding off electrified emotion and sugar-rush adrenaline, Pink operated in a gear inaccessible to most mortals. She burst with outsized zest, enthusiasm and energy. The 44-year-old shared stories, went on tangents, conversed with people in the crowd, praised her bandmates, laughed at herself and seemingly said whatever crossed her mind. Unfiltered and unapologetic, Pink carried herself with a bold authenticity that belied her rock-star status and effectively dissolved borders between her and her fans.
All the better for hosting an inclusive Summer Carnival Tour that on the surface unfolded as a warm-weather bash for the ages. Pink, her eight-piece band and a nine-piece dance team supplied practically everything but the beach towels. Projections of sand, water, straw-stirred libations and citrus wedges? Check. A massive disco ball? Check. A rainbow-styled arc of pulsing lights, a platform in the shape of a playground slide and a collection of giant inflatables? Fun. Mobile scooters designed as neon-trimmed pink flamingos? Lime should take notice.
Pink also brought the type of explosive stadium-show pizzazz that prompts oohs and aahs. Spark storms, fiery flames, confetti poppers and fog cannons erupted at surprise intervals. Ditto several rounds of shooting-star fireworks associated with football games. Add costumes that turned dancers into pairs of big red lips and Pink’s fashionable assortment of cropped jackets, leotards and block-heeled boots, and the event’s extroverted visuals paralleled those of a pride parade.
The blitz extended to her grand entrance from the proscenium. Strapped into one of her signature harnesses that allowed her to ascend and descend at will, Pink executed acrobatic flips as she sang lead on — what else — “Get the Party Started.” Before the two-hour concert ended, the woman who opener Sheryl Crow humorously coined “the Simone Biles of rock ‘n’ roll” embarked on four additional aerial flights. Each endeavor involved different contraptions and distinct stunts, none more impressive than a finale that witnessed Pink soar above the crowd on the field and up to the highest tiers at the farthest reaches of the venue.
Ho-hum, another day at the office for the daredevil born Alecia Beth Moore, who continues to succeed at practically everything she attempts. Since emerging 25 years ago, she has managed to amass a heap of pop feats — including transcending the decorated turn-of-the-century teen-pop class with which she originally was associated. In addition to winning nearly every type of major award and selling tens of millions of albums, Pink claims the title of the most-played female artist in Britain this century.
Increasingly, the Pennsylvania native greatest achievement relates not to commercial prowess but to the way in which she balances genre-bending artistry and outspoken activism. Able to preserve her integrity and fill stadiums, she keeps blazing paths other artists strive to follow. Her advocacy on behalf of pressing issues such as racial equality, domestic violence, LGBTQ rights, environmental justice and animal rights helped make her a familiar face to many of those causes — as well as a UNICEF ambassador.
Saturday, the vocalist refrained from political matters but had plenty to say. If Pink ever tires of singing or hanging upside-down while suspended 30 feet in the air, she could launch a spoken-word tour or write an advice column. Calling herself a “wild card” that no company would ever sponsor due to her unpredictability, the singer reveled in her freewheeling persona and framed topics with sharp wit and biting humor.
Casually divulging how many times she and her husband nearly divorced. Half-jokingly telling a man in the audience he’d be sexually rewarded for attending the show with his wife. Keeping it real with a sixth-grader about the tribulations of attending school. Snapping into mom mode while demonstrating the love she possesses for her children. Such impromptu, rawly honest moments seldom occur at high-profile events.
Pink proved as unguarded when it pertained to physical appearances. She shrugged off dripping makeup; admitted how hot she felt as she paused to fan herself; took her shoes and socks in full view of cameras; and sported a short motorcycle jacket emblazoned with the words “Kiss My” on the back that summed everything up about her in a clever way. She wore a similarly healthy, edgy attitude on her face via a permanent smile and defiant glint in her eyes — not unlike the prankster who sits in the back of class knowing she’s the smartest person in the room.
Or just the one with the most confidence, common sense and cool factor. Pink’s self-empowering songs possessed all those traits and espoused key principles: the importance of embracing your own identity, accepting your flaws and refusing to quit chief among them. In many artists’ hands, those messages would grow cloying and ring hollow, yet Pink sang and shouted the words as if she needed to hear them for her own welfare. She believed and internalized them, and if anyone doubted the conviction, complemented her calls to be fearless with a clarion voice and aerial tricks.
Championing underdogs and outcasts, she bonded with multi-generational followers via the double-caffeinated “Raise Your Glass,” positivity-instilling “(Expletive) Perfect” and booming “What About Us.” Devised for dance floors and streaked with pulsating electronic beats, the latter represented a 180-degree shift from the stripped-down version of the tune she played at United Center on Thursday. Lest she forget, she dispensed toxic exes and hangers-on with the curled-lip snarl of “Blow Me (One Last Kiss)” and cathartic “So What.”
Not that Pink avoided minimalism. Though bleacher-stomping anthems prevailed, multiple sequences found her crooning ballads (a faithful cover of Bob Dylan’s “Make You Feel My Love,” a sincere “When I Get There”) and reducing arrangements to a bare essence. She re-cast “Please Don’t Leave Me” as a girl-group harmony number, sat atop a stool at the center of the “T”-shaped runway for an acoustic “Don’t Let Me Get Me” and transformed “I Am Here” into a tambourine-shaking, street-busked jamboree.
The quieter, intimate moments offered a symmetrical balance to the high-wire spectacles that never failed to thrill, even if the optics occasionally outshined the music. A couple members of her ensemble joined her on the trapeze-like apparatuses, transferring their feet-on-the-floor choreography to airborne ballets during which Pink twirled, climbed and stretched into challenging positions. As for a fallback? The trampoline she left her dancers to use on “Trustfall” was the closest she came to employing a safety net amid an evening during which inspired risk, fierce independence and modern girl-power prevailed. To whom it may concern: Pink is not going back.
Nearly a year removed from her induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, Crow presided over a 55-minute set that doubled as a reminder of the sensible smarts and deceptive simplicity of her finest material. She and a five-piece support band wove country colors and organic textures into a majority of the songs, all of which save “Real Gone” predated 2003.
Dressed in a sleeveless pantsuit that highlighted her toned arms, the 62-year-old Crow switched between electric and acoustic guitar, bass and hands-free singing. Her once-raspy voice now sounds higher in pitch. When reaching for upper-register notes, it tended to thin and veer into reedy territory. Those instances were thankfully limited due to the midtempo pace of the material and relaxed nature of Crow’s deliveries.
Her cheerful demeanor, self-assured presence and effortless intertwining of blues, twang, pop and roots-oriented rock paid further dividends. The Missouri native’s songs dispensed small nuggets of wisdom and encouraged reflection, and she handled tough love (“If It Makes You Happy”) as adeptly as she channeled vulnerability (“Strong Enough”) and basic pleasures (“Soak Up the Sun”).
Give Crow and company credit, too, for appreciating local music history. Peppered with nimble piano lines and down-home accents, their measured rendition of Cheap Trick’s “I Want You to Want Me” shared more in common with the Rockford-based band’s studio original than the more widely known, rock-fueled live version.
A classy tribute from a strong-willed artist who deserves to receive a handful of her own in the future.
Bob Gendron is a freelance critic.
Setlist for Pink at Soldier Field Aug. 24:
“Get the Party Started”
“Raise Your Glass”
“Who Knew”
“Just Like a Pill”
“What About Us”
“Turbulence”
“Lost Cause”
“Make You Feel My Love” (Bob Dylan cover)
“Just Give Me a Reason”
“(Expletive) Perfect”
“Just Like Fire” → “Heartbreaker” (Pat Benatar cover)
“Please Don’t Leave Me”
“Don’t Let Me Get Me”
“When I Get There”
“I Am Here”
“What’s Up?” (4 Non Blondes cover)
“Try”
“Trustfall”
“Blow Me (One Last Kiss)”
“Never Gonna Not Dance Again”
“So What”
Setlist for Sheryl Crow:
“Steve McQueen”
“A Change Would Do You Good”
“If It Makes You Happy”
“Real Gone”
“My Favorite Mistake”
“Strong Enough”
“The First Cut Is the Deepest” (Cat Stevens cover)
“All I Wanna Do”
“I Want You to Want Me” (Cheap Trick cover)
“Soak Up the Sun”
“Everyday Is a Winding Road”
[ad_2]
Source link