Tom Jones International

In this review of Thursday night’s show in Portland, this reviewer paid attention — to the music, the singer, the band and back-up singers. Sure, she paid attention to the audience, as the audience is always a part of a Tom Jones show. But she took in the whole experience, understanding Tom’s love of performing and, rightly, she said, “…he’s much more than a one-dimensional caricature,” and concluded, “The singer may have performed these songs thousands of times, but last night they felt new. The banter may have been scripted, but it sounded genuine. That might be business as usual for Tom Jones, but it is actually unusual.”

We’re also linking to The Oregonian’s blog site where one of their bloggers saw the Portland show. It was posted What they guy says — and contrary to what has been posted elsewhere, lots of guys write good reviews — is obvious. (We really like Joe Queenan’s writing, but the mention makes this review too esoteric.) In the end, really, in our estimation only two things in it are worth posting:

First: “Tom Jones is an entertainer. He entertained. Score one for Tom Jones.

Second: “Postscript No. 1: If you’re at a concert, and you’re yelling at people to sit down, you’re wrong. This is true always, with a few exceptions: the symphony, the opera, any event where minors are standing on risers and singing really bad songs for parents with camcorders.”

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Versatile Tom Jones plays to adoring crowd at the Schnitzer
Selling songs with lots of sizzle

BY BARBARA MITCHELL/The Portland Tribune/May 30, 2008

There’s no doubt that Tom Jones knows how to deliver a song, but the 67-year-old is also a master of delivering a good line. Reminiscing about his late 60s/early 70s variety show at his performance at the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall, he remarked that it was a chance for him to work with some of his favorite artists.

“It was also a chance for me to show off my versatility,” he purred. “And I loooooove showing off my versatility.”

Jones might be best known for his sex bomb image (Thursday night’s show still inspired shrieks and knicker-throwing) but he’s much more than a one-dimensional caricature. With a voice that reached to the rafters, the lively Welshman was as much a gospel singer as a slick Vegas showman — a lusty preacher whose church encompasses the sacred as well as the profane.

Dressed all in black except for a bright red blazer, the shockingly young looking Jones romped through an hour and a half’s worth of material with the energy of someone a fraction of his age. The ever-present twinkle in his eye made it seem like it was the first time he was encountering such obvious adoration and not just another stop on a tour.

His band arranged in a semi-circle at the perimeters of the stage, the floor belonged to Jones — and he made good use of it, strutting and shuffling and working the audience.

He also made good use of his time, peppering his set with his signature hits (It’s Not Unusual, What’s New Pussycat?, She’s a Lady), delivering crowd-pleasing renditions of covers like George Jones’ He Stopped Loving Her Today and Jerry Lee Lewis’ End of the Road, belting out the weepy Green Green Grass of Home and briefly turning the Schnitz into a rave during the electro-pop anthem I Like The Way.

In a less accomplished performer’s hands, that breadth of material might not have worked, but Jones certainly showed off his versatility — much to the delight of everyone involved. The man knows how to sell a song, and he’s as convincing when he’s pedaling lust (You Can Leave Your Hat On) as when he’s conjuring gospel soul (Cry For Home.)

But this is Tom Jones — the Sex Bomb — and the audience clearly responded more excitedly when he played to that image. She’s a Lady became a panty storm, and there were shrieks of delight when he ripped off his blazer or pulled his shirt up to reveal a taut torso.

And while there were moments of touching emotion, ultimately the show felt less like a performance and more like a party. The four-piece brass section frequently busted out tongue-in-cheek choreography moves and the three backing singers shimmied and played off Jones.

But it was Jones who seemed to be having the best time of all. Reworking Howlin’ Wolf’s 300 Pounds of Love to 200 Pounds of Love, he winked. “I’m happy to say on a good day I’m only 200 pounds — of heavenly joy!” And then he growled, much to the delight of the audience.

The singer may have performed these songs thousands of times, but last night they felt new. The banter may have been scripted, but it sounded genuine. That might be business as usual for Tom Jones, but it is actually unusual.

Photo: Martin Bernetti/Getty Images