WHEN It comes down to the musical crunch, Brian Kennedy's much discussed sexuality suddenly ceases to be an issue, and universal themes such as love and romance take centre stage instead.
At the Olympia Theatre last night the warbling wonderboy from Belfast seduced the ladies with his languid voice and melted the hardened hearts of men with a mixture of talent and presence. Well, how could you possibly dislike Brian Kennedy when your girlfriend is busy coagulating into a lovelorn heap of jelly in the seat next to you?
Kennedy's killer weapon is his voice, a heavenly choirboy keen which stabs the darkness like gentle daggers of light and which lifts his music way above the middling heights of MOR. If Michael Bolton could sing like this we would have lifted the fatwah on him long ago. Suffice to say that, when Kennedy sings, you forget all your preconceptions and just ride along on that pristine, plaintive wave.
Of course, Kennedy's dashing demeanour adds to the mystique, and when he steps forward in his natty, well tailored threads he adds that essential elegance to his smooth, soulful delivery. A Better Man is his signature tune, a mantra for any male who wants to be true to himself and not to stereotypes. One Kiss is a startled double take, an expression of surprise that anyone could contaminate something so pure with something so puritan, while Town rejects the narrow mindedness which sometimes sprawls across the cityscape.
Kennedy accepts the crowd's good natured heckling with humour and patience, and cries of "where are the white shoes?" and "let your hair dawn!" are received with the proper degree of indulgence. No Other Words is about as middle of the road as it gets, but at least it captures the futility of trying to wrap emotions up in mere language. Captured gets the crowd singing along and competing with the melodies and harmonies onstage, but when Kennedy segues into Up On The Roof he steals back the vocal high ground.
A lively cover of World Party's Put The Message In The Box is followed by a medley of Van Morrison songs, and when Kennedy does Crazy Love, Tupelo Honey and Queen Of The Slipstream he pots some extra sauce into the soul, getting the girls going like Van could only dream of doing. Having stroked the ladies into submission, he delivered the final flourish with Life, Love And Happiness, opening his arms wide like Jesus standing outside the Temple of Love.
For the encore, Kennedy chooses a Tom Waits song, I Hope That I Don't Fall In Love With You, accompanying himself on acoustic guitar for this aching anthem for romantic losers. He ends with a rousing rendition of R.E.M.'s Everybody Hurts, but loses the subtlety somewhere amid the tear jerking climax.
