London W1 Kabaret Club
Frontman [B]PB Jr[/B] still captivates, an unabashed star-in-waiting, preening before his band of pretty boys...More on
Frontman PB Jr still captivates, an unabashed star-in-waiting, preening before his band of pretty boys. It's in the way he carries himself, no swaggering ego, but a telling faux-modesty in its place. And his voice is as divine as before, a soaring falsetto with an emotional as well as technical range shaming the current crop of wannabe-Yorkes, a textural vocal, deeply evocative and thoroughly enchanting.
However, much of the new material seems worryingly pedestrian. A couple, 'Seconds' for instance, stretch out and sprawl luxuriantly like before, special and aware of it. Some of the set, though, grasps at a perhaps more sellable flavour of rock ordinaire, the alluring kinks and compelling drama erased in favour of a lumpen stomp.
They need to recover the confidence, the momentum that propelled them so far beyond their pack before. A sublime closing '86d' hints at the glories within their reach, at what they could still yet achieve. Here's hoping.
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