Far from idle, Hicks turns in animated night of soul
Taylor Hicks didn't mention "American Idol" at his concert on Tuesday, and while the urge to move beyond the televised talent show that launched his career is understandable, the truth is Hicks wouldn't have been onstage at Avalon performing for nearly 2,000 adoring fans without it. That's not to say the 30-year-old singer isn't a hard-working and talented musician. But "Idol" is the only way a graying blue-eyed soul belter plying a style that was in vogue two decades ago -- a man who says "sock it to me" with conviction -- could ever have connected with a vast, mainstream audience.
That audience -- a broad and underserved swath of older music lovers, young children, curious college students, and screaming female professionals still in their workday suits -- were treated to 90 minutes of rousing and affectionate cover tunes and sturdy originals from Hicks's self-titled major-label debut. There were exceptions. In and among the Marvin Gaye, Van Morrison, and surprisingly powerful encore performance of Cream's "Badge" was a baffling dip into mid-career Rod Stewart. No amount of slap-bass could make Hicks's sleek, bluesy take on "Young Turks" anything but drab.
Snappy, soulful new songs like "Heaven Knows," "The Maze," and "Runaround" were interrupted with forays into midtempo schmaltz. Hicks's voice just isn't lovely enough to sell Bryan Adams's gospel-inflected ballad "The Right Place," and despite his gritty delivery, Hicks's current single, "Dream Myself Awake," gleamed a bit too brightly with pop-factory polish. His own "Soul Thing" was the funkiest original on the bill, so here's hoping Hicks's handlers dispense with the pro-songwriter safety net on the next project.
Backed by an exuberant seven-piece band and his longtime companion (a statue of Ray Charles placed, as always, prominently on an amplifier), Hicks was an endlessly animated but oddly remote frontman. He bounded around and buckled at the waist, pounded his chest with a tambourine, and sweated through his sport jacket. Yet his passionate embrace of music didn't extend to the audience; Hicks's effort to connect began and ended with several tepid shouts of "soul patrol!" He is so ready to leave that behind. The question is, without a prime-time TV slot to ply his charming wares, what comes next for this old-school, unfashionable, and unlikeliest of pop idols?
Joan Anderman can be reached at anderman@globe.com. For more on music visit boston.com/ae/music/blog. 