He may have dumps like a truck, but the Ricky Martin spectacle is more than just a bionic butt.
Although thousands of glowstick-flower waving teens subject themselves to fits every time he turns around to casually bump it side to side, which happens quite often, with screams in English, Spanish and Japanese (there's a duo in the audience bearing a 'Tokyo Loves RM!!!!' sign actually), Ricky Martin is about to prove he's a bona fide international cultural icon in the making.
He's as evil as Elvis ever was with his pelvis, arriving as he does to 'Livin' La Vida Loca' on the back of that convertible, with a shaggy crew cut blonde bombshell (for the summer we guess). Smooth as Gene Kelly, or the Latin Fred Astaire, he glides gracefully across the motorised stage platforms and walks up walls.
No rhyme, reason or excuses to it, this is a slicker than slick, go-go dancing, fringe-flinging, congo-beating, firepole-sliding, mid-air acrobatic, confetti-exploding, big band/latin/swing-spectacular extravaganza. And that's the way this grown up ex-boy band member wants it. So during the up-middle-side-and-down dance to 'Por Arriba, Por Abajo' or the arm wave to 'The Cup of Life' there's no need to think about it and ask why. Just do it. Saves time having to try and figure out what the bloody hell he's singing about anyway, since most of tonight's set is entirely in Spanish (we are only about 20 miles from the Mexican border).
While corners of the world may be counting down the minutes, here, they belt out 'Vuelve' and every other song he performs from the catalogue before he was livin' la vida loca. "San Diego, I will be back," he says. Stop the watches, because indeed he will.
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