Same 'ol song and dance

Thursday, September 11, 1997

Same ol' song and dance

By PAUL CANTIN

Ottawa Sun

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If absence makes the heart grow fonder, then nothing would be more becoming Amanda Marshall than to take a break, stock up on some new material and return to the road with a new act.

After sold-out stands at the NAC and Barrymore's, as well as a visit here as opening act for Tom Cochrane and a handful of other dates in Eastern Ontario, it's hard to believe there's anyone left in these parts who hasn't seen Mighty Mandy and her band pummel through the well-worn numbers on her debut record.

But just in case, last night's show before a couple of thousand at the Civic Centre Theatre was like watching reruns. From the bizarre introductory taped sound collage mixing Otis Redding's I Can't Turn You Loose and Martin Luther King's "Free At Last" speech, through the lighting cues and Marshall's hopscotch dance during the opening song, Fall From Grace, this was too often a replay of earlier visits.

An expertly executed replay, nonetheless. All that time together on the road has honed her quintet into a flawless ensemble. And the singer's voice ought to be viewed, like the Rockies and Niagara Falls, as an immense force of nature and a source of national pride. The shrill leaps from note to note in her version of Ann Peebles' Hi Records' hit, I Can't Stand The Rain, once again melted seamlessly into her own well-received song Let It Rain.

Despite undertaking an endless tour that can now be measured in years rather than months, Marshall's voice seemed to be more than up to the task of bellowing through a full set of demanding numbers like Let's Get Lost, Dark Horse, Sitting On Top Of The World and a show-stopping version of Jimi Hendrix's Castles Made Of Sand.

Reservations about Marshall remain, though. Like her colleague Celine Dion, every performance seems geared to a vein-bulging, larynx-shredding climax. Learning the intermittent power of whispers would only enhance the effect of her screams. Her simple piano-and-voice reading of Promises (tastefully dedicated to Princess Diana and Mother Teresa and seguing into Michael Jackson's Man In The Mirror, Buffalo Springfield's For What It's Worth and Bob Dylan's Blowin' In The Wind) suggested that restraint suits her.

And familiarity with her song folio has not bred affection for the tunes. She needs to dig up some original songs as accomplished as her voice.

Opening festivities were hosted by The Philosopher Kings, who performed their finely executed brand of supper-club funk and phat-free soul, to little audible effect on the still-arriving crowd.

It took the radio-familiar sound of the yearning Charms and guitarist James McConnell's jarring white-noise guitar freakouts to finally break through the audience's indifference.


	Thursday, September 11, 1997 Same ol' song and dance By PAUL CANTIN Ottawa Sun ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ If absence makes the heart grow fonder, then nothing would be more becoming Amanda Marshall than to take a break, stock up on some new material and return to the road with a new act. After sold-out stands at the NAC and Barrymore's, as well as a visit here as opening act for Tom Cochrane and a handful of other dates in Eastern Ontario, it's hard to believe there's anyone left in these parts who hasn't seen Mighty Mandy and her band pummel through the well-worn numbers on her debut record. But just in case, last night's show before a couple of thousand at the Civic Centre Theatre was like watching reruns. From the bizarre introductory taped sound collage mixing Otis Redding's I Can't Turn You Loose and Martin Luther King's "Free At Last" speech, through the lighting cues and Marshall's hopscotch dance during the opening song, Fall From Grace, this was too often a replay of earlier visits. An expertly executed replay, nonetheless. All that time together on the road has honed her quintet into a flawless ensemble. And the singer's voice ought to be viewed, like the Rockies and Niagara Falls, as an immense force of nature and a source of national pride. The shrill leaps from note to note in her version of Ann Peebles' Hi Records' hit, I Can't Stand The Rain, once again melted seamlessly into her own well-received song Let It Rain. Despite undertaking an endless tour that can now be measured in years rather than months, Marshall's voice seemed to be more than up to the task of bellowing through a full set of demanding numbers like Let's Get Lost, Dark Horse, Sitting On Top Of The World and a show-stopping version of Jimi Hendrix's Castles Made Of Sand. Reservations about Marshall remain, though. Like her colleague Celine Dion, every performance seems geared to a vein-bulging, larynx-shredding climax. Learning the intermittent power of whispers would only enhance the effect of her screams. Her simple piano-and-voice reading of Promises (tastefully dedicated to Princess Diana and Mother Teresa and seguing into Michael Jackson's Man In The Mirror, Buffalo Springfield's For What It's Worth and Bob Dylan's Blowin' In The Wind) suggested that restraint suits her. And familiarity with her song folio has not bred affection for the tunes. She needs to dig up some original songs as accomplished as her voice. Opening festivities were hosted by The Philosopher Kings, who performed their finely executed brand of supper-club funk and phat-free soul, to little audible effect on the still-arriving crowd. It took the radio-familiar sound of the yearning Charms and guitarist James McConnell's jarring white-noise guitar freakouts to finally break through the audience's indifference.