Jazzman Jarreau disappoints loyal Jakarta fans

Jazzman Jarreau disappoints loyal Jakarta fans

By Dini Sari Djalal

JAKARTA (JP): During the third song of Al Jarreau's concert at
Senayan Stadium on Tuesday Feb. 21, my companions for the evening
were heading away from the stage. While onstage Jarreau's
signature scat-singing became more and more abstract, my
companions bid me farewell with a forlorn "We're bored."

At the risk of offending Jakarta's three thousand Al Jarreau
fans, as well as Al Jarreau himself, so was I.

Perhaps it was because the concert started late, past 9 p.m.,
and I was tired. Perhaps it was because the poor sound system,
coupled with his band's over-the-top musical interpretations,
resulted in a production that pained the eardrums. Perhaps it was
because the more Jarreau became involved in his vocal
calisthenics, the more removed the audience felt from the
performance.

It certainly was not due to any lack of familiarity with
Jarreau's repertoire. Indonesians have long been one of Jarreau's
most receptive and loyal audiences, and know Jarreau's songs
intimately. Furthermore, Jarreau's latest album, Tenderness, is
an accessible compilation of classic covers, ranging from Elton
John's Your Song to Gershwin's oft-interpreted Summertime. In
theory, Jarreau's set is a pop gold mine.

In my impressionable pre-teen years, I was fed, via my elder
brothers' record collection, a steady diet of saccharine soul:
the Commodores, the Jacksons, Earth Wind & Fire. Along with divas
Stephanie Mills and Gloria Gaynor, Al Jarreau provided the
soundtrack to my childhood. Such sentimental associations have
rendered Jarreau's earlier songs dear to me, despite his eventual
deterioration into pop blandness. Hence my surprise, during the
concert, of being able to find flaws not only in Jarreau's and
his band's performance, but in the songs themselves.

The set opened with the classic samba Mas que Nada, except it
didn't sound like a samba at all. Instead of exuding soft rhythms
and subtle sensuality, as all good samba should, Jarreau's
version was loud, frenetic, almost coarse.

Jarreau had brought with him a large entourage of musicians
and backing vocalists. Yet there were no percussionists and no
horn section. Without percussion, a synthesized samba sounds,
well, synthetic. Correspondingly, Jarreau's next offering,
Waltzing in the Garden, was spiced up with synthesized horns.
What was supposed to be brass simply sounded crass.

Even Jarreau's warm charm could not lift the music from its
high-trebled pitch. This year marks Jarreau's twentieth year in
the music business, and by the way he works the audience, his
showmanship shows. He has a good rapport with the crowd, dancing
and reaching out his hands to his fans. The audience, in turn,
loved him back, as much as during his first visit here in 1987.

The fateful third song, during which my friends fled, was the
cover of Elton John's Your Song. I am not an Elton fan, but I
remember Your Song as being one of his most sensitive and tender
songs. As Jarreau and his band delivered it, it was again loud
and frenetic, with the finale drumming crescendos being
particularly grandiose. Jarreau may have sung it heartfelt like
Elton, but the effect was lost in the drama.

By the time Jarreau broke into Summertime, one of the most
sensuous songs ever written, the crowd was starting to yawn. A
flute accompaniment was faked on the synthesizer, to which my
companion said, "This is giving my face wrinkles." Jarreau's
version of Summertime was predictably unrecognizable, and
featured more scat than singing. As proven by Louis Armstrong and
Bobby McFerrin, scat is an innovative vehicle for expression.
McFerrin, however, gained notoriety for being able to mimic the
sounds of household appliances. It is not surprising, then, that
scat can seem like a special-effects production rather than
singing. More importantly, scat loses its novelty quickly with
Indonesian audiences.

What the crowd wanted was the hits. The next song, We're in
this Love Together, halted the yawning and got the audience
dancing. The tune tickled even my cynical feet. Since I Fell for
You, Jarreau's 1985 collaboration with Bob James and David
Sanborn, was the next crowd-pleaser. Jarreau sang it slow and
sure, unleashing his still-silky singing voice, an instrument
which should be used more often. The lights were turned off
onstage, and, as usual of concerts, lighters flared-up across the
stadium. The couples in the audience milked the song for all it
was worth, embracing and gyrating despite the conventions of
Ramadhan. Although it was an impressive performance, I was glad
to see the song, and the couplings, end.

The next three songs I was not familiar with, although, being
ballads, the Indonesian audience loved them. Spain was finally
sung, delivering the crowd into lip-synching and some rather
embarrassing dance movements. Jazz's fusion popularity in
Indonesia must be due to its stadium-rock rhythms. Judging by the
number of ponytails and tight jeans in the audience, some closet
rock-dogs were abound. Spain has an awkward structure and timing,
but that didn't stop the rock-dogs from jerking to the beat.

The finale was the very popular Mornin'. It was fun, and the
crowd danced. Jarreau left the stage, but of course he came back.

As a nice surprise, the best-delivered piece of the set was
the encore, a cover of the old blues classic See See Rider. The
musicians, after all, were more rock than jazz, so this song
suited their sensibilities. Jarreau also seemed less affected and
more relaxed, swinging his hips and singing loudly. It was a
buoyant conclusion to an otherwise sober evening.

In his heyday, Jarreau was the top of the crop. He has won
five Grammy awards for Jazz and Pop vocal performances, the most
recent in 1992 as Best Rhythm & Blues male vocal performance for
his twelfth album, Heaven and Earth. Jarreau claims the
distinction of having won Grammy awards, as well as other musical
awards, for both the Jazz, Pop, and Rhythm & Blues categories.
His crossover appeal has invited much criticism of selling-out,
but Jarreau remains untouched by slander.

Perhaps it is good that Jarreau likes being a crossover,
because his best songs are those that are purely pop, such as
We're in this Love Together, Mornin' and Breakin' Away. Looking
back to the early 1980s, no wonder that Jarreau was so successful
in Indonesia. He churned out formula tunes as light and catchy as
his contemporaries, such as Lionel Richie.

Similarly, no wonder I have such rose-tinted memories of
Jarreau, as his songs provided the perfect backdrop to a carefree
childhood. Unfortunately, those easy years are now over, and, in
the wake of grunge-rock and darker days, Jarreau's songs now seem
simple and fleeting.