Tom Jones International

Enjoy these posts, but please continue to check out Fans Favorite Photos on flickr. More are being added each day. We just — Tuesday, 8:15 PST — added 11 new photos including some great never-before-seen candids from the 1970s. We’re having a good time posting the photos for you. And, tomorrow, the last word (we think) from Chile and you’ll see a photo that’s quite a tribute to Sir Tom.

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Being back at “The Grand” (MGM) is analogous to slipping into a comfortable shoe. Tom Jones is back, and he’s good! The South American tour had to be quite an ego boost for the almost-67-year-old star. The public’s response to Mr. Jones was extraordinary, as chronicled in recent Scoops and elsewhere on this site.

To go from entertaining 16- and 20,000 people on two consecutive nights just weeks ago in South America, to 740 here at the MGM’s Hollywood Theater in Las Vegas, might prove to be quite a deceleration. But not for this amazing talent. Tom Jones put it in gear and went from 0 to 60 as soon as he hit the Las Vegas stage. Whether carrying 740 or 20,000, those fans who have come for the ride are treated to a high-performance entertainment vehicle that always delivers!

It seems obvious that Tom is very comfortable and proud of his current show, and he should be. The set list has to be one of his best. It’s diverse. It shows his range, and offers a spectrum of emotions. His voice is strong and clear. His showmanship? Superb!

An additional critical aspect to Tom’s very successful show is his band and back-up singers! Enjoying an evening with Tom Jones includes being treated to a band that is polished, strong, funky, skilled, talented and eager. His three back-up singers ably support Mr. Jones’ strong lead vocals. Tom must be pleased and perhaps even inspired by this fine support group of very talented artists. In return it’s evident that this band is gleefully inspired by Mr. Jones to give its all each and every performance. It’s about the synergy. And it happens nightly right before our eyes. This collective, impressive sound wave of talent leaves the stage like a freight train. It engulfs an engaged audience. When it’s over, you walk away and say to yourself, “I had no idea it would be that good.” Your step is lighter as you exit the theater. My friends, it IS that good!
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Note: This is not the Viña Festival show for which the poster is below. That is tomorrow, Thursday night, February 22.

I’d like to report that tonight’s show was a complete success, but that would be not be entirely true.

Obviously the build-up for Tom’s show was more than adequate, judging from the amount of media and press which has embraced and recorded his every move since his arrival here in Concepción.

The cold hard facts may have to do with economics verses affordability. Many who wanted to see the show may not have been able to afford the price of admission. The result was a stadium, made to hold tens of thousands, seating far less.

The show was in no way a disappointment for the several thousand who were able to attended. They were excited and delighted to see their man.
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We welcome Scoop back with open arms. We’ve missed these reports. Interesting to note that Tom does Mama Told Me and If I Only Knew in this show. Wish he’d put the latter in again permanently. We’re looking forward to more Scoop as the immediacy and enthusiasm of a fan just shines through the words and it’s almost — but not quite — as good as being there ourselves

Here is a youtube video of the song Scoop discusses below and te audience response to it.

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Hola, compadres,

Tom Jones’ last concert appearance in South America happened some 20 years ago. The collective memory of his Beunos Aires fans is indeed elastic! Last night’s performance was STEAMED HEAT! Let me just say that you wanted to be at this show.

They came 10,000 strong. After a stellar introduction, Mr. Jones wafted into view (from stage left) upon the wings of thunderous applause, foot stomping and chanting that literally transformed the historically significant Luna Park venue into a righteously ebullient spectacle, the likes of which are generally reserved at this venue for rock star royalty, or a really good wrestling match!

His entrance alone prompted a rousing standing ovation. I suspect that even Tom was a bit taken aback by this fervent display. The passion of the Spanish people made my heart want to burst with pride and respect, for Tom, for the people of Buenos Aires, and for the love of that moment.

It’s summertime here in Buenos Aires. I’ve been told that February is perhaps the most humid month of the year to experience. It was sweltering on this night.

Mr. Jones was looking slim, trim and quite fit. His jacket came off just after the third song of the night, Mama Told Me Not To Come. Yes, that tune did make a comeback in the set list, as did If I Only Knew.

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Tom played the fabled Wembley Stadium in London on Saturday — now he only plays in Glasgow tonight and tomorrow and his European tour comes to an end. Wembley is one we’re sorry we missed as it’s a venue steeped in history. In addition to all the great footballl (British football, that is) matches, there’s been rugby, Olympic athletics and, of course, music. In 1985, Live Aid, the concert for Africa, was held there. The photo at left is from a 1999 clip of Tom at a Welsh rugby match at Wembley Stadium from the BBC Wales site. Before Tom’s bit, comedian Max Boyce rallies the crowd. It is funny.

Again, we’re so grateful that Inside Scoop was able to catch some of the shows for us. Surely we’ll hear from Scoop when Tom is back in North America.

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The incredible life of the Wembley Complex is an historic one indeed. Wembley Stadium (the original) saw some of the most memorable music concerts in history, including those of the Beatles. The recently refurbished Wembley Arena continues its tradition of hosting international acts. The original stadium was torn down several years ago to make room for the monolith megastructure that now arches high above this part of the city of London. It is HUGE! Controversy has stalled its completion and subsequent grand opening. Organizers say that all disputes have been settled, and that opening will occur in 2007. Tick tock…

Meanwhile the arena, now sitting in the massive shadow of the new stadium, continues to be a place where great artisans come to share their art and music with those who practice the art of appreciation.

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The Green Green Grass of home belonged to the Welsh last week. Tom performed three nights in his beloved Wales. As you might have anticipated, he was very well received. The Welsh must not have much to shout about. Tom moved away from Wales over 30 years ago (as soon as he “made it big”). Yet the city of Cardiff continually embraces him as if he’d never left. Tom’s actual home town of Pontypridd is a short ride just outside of Cardiff.

Throughout this UK tour, Tom’s opening act, a Scottish rock-pop group called the Cosmic Rough Riders, has been trying to set a musical tone each evening from city to city. Doesn’t seem to be working out to well for the Rough Riders. In fact, it has been a rather rough ride for them. It’s not that their music is bad. It’s pretty good. I think it’s that when Tom Jones fans go to see Tom Jones, an opening act is just another time consuming obstacle keeping them from their much desired, knighted one.

Tom Jones did not disappoint. He put on great shows in Cardiff. He made references to the fact that he had “come home” once again. The fans loved that. Tom even uttered a couple of words in welsh. Beats the heck out of me what he said. Trying to make sense of welsh is no more simple than trying to read it. I’ve been told that it’s a dying language here, but you’d never know that when trying to read street signs to negotiate your whereabouts.

Sir Tom Jones was flawless all three Cardiff nights. He looked well, sounded great and danced easily as the chosen one amongst his flock once again.

When he sang Green Green Grass of Home, it was the first time ever that I literally could not hear Tom’s voice because the crowd had completely taken over the song. They sang loudly, with great passion and remarkably, in key. In fact, several times during that song, and during Fall In Love, Mr Jones literally stopped singing, stretched his arms out wide, and let the audience carry on with what they had started. They sang those two songs like they were their combined nation anthem; as if Hitler had just met his demise the day before. The fans sang and they swayed. Their national treasure stood before them and shared, as well as embraced, these moments.

It was a happy time in Cardiff. I wonder when Tom will return here. During his last major tour to Europe in 2003, Tom sold out eight nights in his beloved Wales. That tour came upon the heels of two very successful albums. During this current tour, Tom really has no new product to back up. Yet he is filling up arenas. That is quite a testament to the magnetic hold this august entertainer has with those who love “the voice.”

By the way the set list has changed slightly. Trick Or Treat (which had been the 2nd song of the evening), has been dropped. Not to be replaced it seems.

And here’s one more update. I’m getting close to broke, but I’m happy to still be here. I’ve taken a liking to bangers-n-mash. It’s really not the best food to eat on the regular. But then neither are Fat Burgers or Philly Cheese Steaks! I just wash ‘em down with a pint, Mate, (BURP!). Sorry, mate. Cheers!

Scoop… out!

All we can say is CHEERS! Inside Scoop is back and is reporting to us from the UK, having been able to take in a bit O’Tom on tour. Apparently Scoop is, to coin a phrase, a stranger in a strange land there and it takes some getting used to. So the Travel Trials of Scoop — amusing to all and familiar to those who have been to Britain — take some telling. But it is worth it. All we can say is that we missed our Scoop and cannot wait to hear about Cardiff. (Hint, Hint.)

The UK is an “interesting” place. The UK is very expensive, especially when paying with American dollars.

Trying to cross the street in the UK is a daunting expedition. You become a swivel-head in an instant. Look left first, then right? No, look right first, then left? Yea, that’s it, I think. Too late, the light changed (BEEP!). We’ll have another go at it when the light once again changes from yellow to green. Yes, from yellow to green.

When dealing with traffic and “cues,” everyday is “Opposite Day” in the UK. Once you wrap your brain around that, you just want to park the rental car and hop into one of those funny lookin’ bubble-top cabs scurrying about. They seem to know where they are going.

The double-decker city busses are a real eye opener too, as they suddenly whiz past you going the “wrong” way! I do need a drink. Not a problem here. I give alms and praise to the mighty “spirit” world. “Another pint of that ale, Simon!” Aaah, this trip is starting to feel good!

You probably know this already, but for those of you less traveled, if you’re coming to the UK, “don’t leave home without it.” I’m referring to the cash from the second mortgage you’ll have to take out to fund such a self-indulgent junket! Holy cow!

Now having said all of that, let me say, after having seen Sir Tom Jones in many, many venues throughout America, seeing Sir Tom Jones in the UK is worth the exorbitant expense. He is still their “homeboy” and his fans embrace him with every fiber of their mostly non-rhythmic beings. You’ve heard nothing until you hear fifteen thousand people singing Fall In Love at the top of their lungs, while swaying every which way with arms reaching for the sky. Brings joy to the heart.

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For those who don’t know it, Atlantic City, New Jersey, is perfectly located on the ocean in the southeastern part of the state. For more than a century it’s been a seaside playground with a wonderful boardwalk (first built in 1870) and a real carnival atmosphere in the summer. In fact, the city was such a highly regarded playground for the rich that a Pennsylvania game designer used Atlantic City’s streets on the original, best-selling board game, Monopoly in the 1930s. Since then, the city had fallen on hard times, becoming infested with crime and poverty. In 1978 voters there approved casino gambling, believed to be a cure for the city’s ills. The boardwalk rose again, with massive casino hotels, the first of which was Resorts International, where Tom plays four times each year these days. Of course, the urban issues that plague many citys were not resolved by gaming and, today, as a gaming center, Atlantic City is struggling, competing with the Indian casinos that have drawn much of their large New York patron pool away and with a more spectacular Las Vegas. But, whatever, Tom just rocks on there next to the beautiful ocean.

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Tom is back in Atlantic City! Mr. Jones is comfortable at Resorts. After all, he’s been a mainstay at the Superstar Theater for years.

Enthusiasm for his show has not waned over time. Employees trumpet the return of “Sir” as fan regulars flock to this east coast ocean oasis to hail “The Voice.”

Always before and after his sold out shows, the Jones elite belly up to black jack, the bar, or the myriad electronic enticements, all guaranteed to take your money. Of those things, it is only Mr. Jones who actually earns your money.

Mr. Jones earneth, Mr. Blackjack taketh away! Mr. Casino very happy!

As usual, the mood inside the Superstar Theater is dark and mafia-like, but without the hazards of cigarette smoke, smoking guns or goodfellas! The old showroom is a kind of relic. But it’s the perfect place to get up close and personal with the thunder from… Wales!

This first night of four for Tom was good, but the voice did start to waiver halfway through the show, but only when he went for his highest notes. May have been the long flight from LA, or his demanding schedule away from the stage. Still, a rock-solid performance was enjoyed by all in attendance.

You see, Tom is able to shift gears without detection. If he knows his voice is not 100 percent, he takes his money notes to another, more manageable plateau. Yet he still delivers, and almost always he comes back the next night with a vocal vengeance.

Many entertainers “work” for a living. Tom Jones actually works for a living. He’s one cool cat who keeps you wondering what’s going on inside that famous head.

That’s also part of what keeps us coming back to see him.

Those eyes and that half-smile reveal just enough to keep us addicted. Add the voice and a simple shift of the hip, and you’ve got a musical meringue that is still tangy, and begs to be touched, and — oh, my — eaten!

The weekend is here. The ocean is here. Tom Jones is here. What’s your 20?

—Scoop Out

Scoop emailed us:

“I think [Variety's] review of Tom at the Hollywood Bowl robbed your readers of what I thought were two very memorable nights. Though the review was positive, it didn’t capture the depth of the heights Tom reached in that massive outdoor venue. Looking at nearly 17,000 people on each of two nights in a row at the Hollywood Bowl will be among my most cherished memories of seeing Mr. Jones. The many ovations he received those nights were thank you’s, not just for the evening, but for a career. When Hollywood embraces one of its own like this, it must be extremely uplifting to the soul. I hope Tom allowed himself to enjoy what happened there last week. I know I did.”

Moderator’s Note: Our guess is that Variety doesn’t gush. It’s a publication that watches from the sidelines and lobs sardonic, ironic comments on what’s happening. Guess it doesn’t do for them to be impressed with anything but the bottom line. Thanks, Scoop, for your insight. After all, regardless of a knighthood or birthplace, by this time Tom Jones is indeed one of Hollywood’s, LA’s — and the US’s — “own.” It’s great that he’s big enough to belong to so much of the world. And isn’t “depths of the heights” just a great descriptive phrase?

Picture an aerial view of the Great Meteor Crater outside of Flagstaff, Arizona (left). Reduce that in size 10,000 times. Place a circular stage in the middle of it. Add a lighting grid above it. Fill the bowl with seats separated by five aisles running up from the stage to the exits. Place a large blue tent on top and you have the south Shore Music Circus in Cohasset, Massachusetts.

It is an intimate setting and it is intense. Do NOT perform here if you suck! It will show and the audience will use the pit to barbecue you. And then THEY will sing songs around the campfire as you burn in a pit of hell.

Wow, what a loud place! And what a marvelous place to be when you’re Tom Jones.

It was even more marvelous for us, the fans! The roar of the audience is deafening in the pit. It took little motivation to bring Mr. Jones flying down the ramp to start the show last night. He knows the drill and he performed beautifully, as always.

The opening of the show is something to experience. As the lights dim and the music signals the show is about to start, a security detail of twenty cascade down the “star aisle” and form two human chains on either side. They actually link arms! A single spotlight is focused on the spot at the top of the ramp where Mr. Jones will enter. The band kicks in as backup singer Anthony Reynolds warms up the audience from center stage (as if they needed that on this night, at this moment). All eyes are focused on the spot. The roar inside the tent is nothing short of intense. It was thick in there. Just fantastic!

Then Mr. Jones appears. He’s moving fast. It’s like a presidential motorcade without the cars. Tom is encircled by a uniformed security entourage that moves swiftly with him to the stage. The spotlight follows him all the way down. What an entrance! The show has begun.

Tom did his usual set this night. He made it look effortless. The energy level under the tent was enough to power a small nuclear reactor. It never stopped the entire show. Neither did Mr. Jones.

Panties, bras and flowers dropped from the sky all around the stage. A few ladies really wanted to get as close to Tom as possible when they made their deliveries. Security was there quickly, and, may I say, appropriately. Security did an outstanding job of protecting the integrity of the show, but allowed the show to happen naturally. They were seasoned and actually fun to watch.

The applause after each song was thunderous. At the conclusion of I’ll Never Fall In Love Again Mr. Jones received a standing ovation — an ovation from which he was not allowed to escape until the audience had had their say.

In reply Tom deferred to the moment and turned a slow 360-degree bow. It was quite a touching moment. The tears came easily as I watched his face. He let us in for a brief moment. The tears come now as I write. The power of a song and the enjoyment of the moment could not be measured. Tom sang better than he ever has before. How does he do it??? He just does. He’s Tom Jones!

At the conclusion of the show, Secret Service once again escorted the president out to his awaiting limousine. The motorcade sped away quickly into the night. No doubt Air Force One was waiting nearby. We all left flying high this night. What a great show. What great moments. What a great entertainer. Thank you Tom Jones. You make hearts soar!

—Scoop… out. “Tito, bring me a tissue.”

New York is a wonderfully diverse city/state. If you’ve not been there, I highly recommend making the trip as soon as possible. Just recently NYC was voted (by what authority I’ve no idea) the friendliest city in the United States.

Could this be true? Doesn’t bode well for cities with more charming names like Paradise Valley, Warm Springs or Sleepy Hollow. To fully understand the New Yorker, one would probably have to be a New Yorker… or a New Jerseyite. The two “cultures” are inextricably intertwined, joined at the hip. There’s that word “hip” again. I guess I still have some residual TOP funk-shakin’-junk in my trunk! Speaking of hip shakin’, our man Tom Jones held a downtown Tuesday -go-to-meeting revival just across the water way from the Big Apple.

At the Bergen Performing Arts Center in Englewood New Jersey last night. Mr. Jones performed his musical brand of Baptism By Fire. Congregations from differing burrows joined together to raise the roof in a sanctuary which could barely contain the masses, let alone the choir (i.e. the band). Barely past the first few hymns there were already obedient followers standing in the aisles wanting to approach (rush) the stage. They were gently kept at bay (for the most part) by a uniformed security grandpa, a hired elder, an insider in the Church of Jones. This action lessened their enthusiasm. NOT! The excited female flock remained in line as if waiting for a baptism, which had already begun.

Once again Tom Jones was very much on fire! They spoke using their tongues and offered their bodies as sacrificial vessels in a mass effort to reach the promised land.

Like a rose petal falling from the burning bush, it was a single red pair of lace panties landing near Sir Tom’s feet that caused the congregation to gasp and reel! The Baptism had begun! Holy water (perspiration) fell from the sleeves of the musical deity blessing those in the front row. These sacrificial beads mostly landed on stage and in the moat surrounding Mr. Jones. The moat was a rather formidable open orchestra pit. Surely it was the pit of hell for followers who pined to lay at the feet of and worship the musical messiah. Tuesday night services were in full swing. Panty offerings were hitting the stage from all areas. One VERY large bra was launched and landed at Tom’s feet. It had indeed reached the promised land! It was pure and white. It was a virgin bra, never worn with price tag still affixed.

Jones the Sovereign, retrieved the large lovely undergarment. He lifted it high into the air so that all could bare witness to this seductive symbol of sacrifice. Speaking of baring witness, one very exuberant faire maiden made her way up the aisle to the edge of the mote. She waited dutifully, then at the right moment (while Mr. Jones was looking her way) she lifted her top to reveal her natural, sun tanned beauties. They wriggled and jiggled to the pounding intoxicating rhythms. The Jones looked. He ackknowledged that it was good. Sometime these offerings must be made when “The Voice” is in command. When one is compelled, she must act.

Mr. Jones placed the giant mammary minder at the alter (OK on his water table). Exciting was this night! With maidens still in waiting, Mr. Jones ended his show, acknowledging his flock, his band, then he ascending to the nirvana that is his private luxury tour coach, his little slice of heaven on the highway. And just as he had come before, he will come again. Do you believe New Jersey? For it to be true you’ve got to. Say it with me: “I believe” (now you)… There, now let go, let Tom!

May I say that, although somewhat majestic and definitely aged, the Bergen Center was perhaps not the best choice of venues. The stage was much too small to properly display Mr. Jones’ mighty 11-piece ensemble. This mini-theater kept us from fully enjoying the band behind the man. Backup singer Anthony Reynolds and Trombonist Mike Turnbull, who are the bookends of the band if you will, were all but lost to the audience, except for those sitting directly in the middle pews.

However, Mr. Jones and the entire band came through loudly and clearly from the intimidating rows of speaker boxes cascading down either side of the stage. Tom Jones is clearly enjoying the second coming of his career, and boy is he able! His love for what he does translates to his audiences. That is why if you haven’t yet found Tom Jones, you should seek him. It is also why once you let him into your heart (and your iPod), he’ll always be there for you.

Keeping up with the Jones is a challenge and yet a labor of love that this writer enjoys. Just say a prayer and maybe, just maybe Tom Jones will be there. In the book of Jones, the 9th song of the set (maybe it’s the 10th or 12th song) he says: “What am I living for, if not for you.” Now go forth, up and down the eastern seaboard, and spread the word. He is here!

Scoop… out!