Encore: It's a covenant with the audience that must never be broken
On a recent night, the last funky strains of ''Love and Happiness" floated through the Orpheum Theatre. Al Green had already left the stage, and the band had taken their bows. The audience was on its feet, cheering, chanting, ''Al! Al! Al!" Few people moved toward the doors -- surely, he was coming back. He might do ''Funny How Time Slips Away," or ''L-O-V-E" (Love)," but he would certainly return. Then my friend leaned over and whispered, ''I think the guitarist just put his guitar in the case." Within a moment, roadies were breaking down the equipment.
What, no encore? It was a great show, but I didn't feel cheated, I felt a little disappointed.
Yes, encores are as predictable as a Nor'easter in January. Yes, crowd members not only can predict that there will usually be an encore, they can sometimes name at least one song that will be performed -- for Prince, it's ''Purple Rain"; for Patti LaBelle, it's ''Over the Rainbow." Still, encores are part of the unwritten covenant between artist and audience. It's dessert, the last bit of sweetness to polish off a stunning meal. The main show finishes, the fans stomp and scream, fire up their lighters if they're feeling kitschy, and when the artist feels he has been duly adored, he returns like a conquering hero.
Cheesy? Certainly. Necessary? You bet.
If you think about it, the Resurrection -- you know, Easter -- was the original encore. Granted, if you're going to keep your devotees waiting for three days, you'd better come up with something spectacular, hence rising from the dead is the greatest showstopper of all time. Fans today don't have such lofty expectations -- they just want a little something extra at the end of a show.
Even more than that, though, it's part of the incomparable ritual of watching and enjoying live music. Even the most extensive album collection can't match the indelible experience of actually seeing your favorite artists -- they sing to you, you sing back to them, and everyone goes home happy. A show without an encore is cake without icing, a turkey dinner without the apple pie.
Of course, for some musicians, the obligatory encore is a tired cliche. (The Hives, the Strokes, and Staind are among the bands who do not perform them.) Other bands believe encores stroke already overinflated rock-star egos. It's as if the performer is saying, ''You've already plunked down 50 bucks, screamed yourself hoarse, and clapped your hands raw. Now, while I slip backstage for a sip of Cristal, if you chant my name like a god, I'll return to toss you a bone, and you'll love me even more!"
Others, like blink-182, have turned them into something of a joke. Near the end of a Texas show in 2000, bassist Mark Hoppus told the audience, ''Here's the deal. We're going to play three more songs, say 'Thank you, good night,' walk offstage, and then, whether you like it or not, we're going to come back and play you two more songs. So you need to decide whether you want to stick around or leave early to beat the traffic. Either way is fine with me."
Hoppus and his bandmates did exactly as advertised, but with an added treat. As the speakers blared Sisqo's ''Thong Song," Hoppus, clad only in boxer shorts, ran around the stage, shaking his moneymaker at the cheering audience. How's that for an encore?
See, encores don't have to be boring. During the main show, a performer has to do what's expected -- the hits, the anthems, the crowd pleasers. It's the encores where an artist can really do something remarkable and blow the collective mind of the audience. It could be a weird cover song -- for example, Scottish band Travis would turn Britney Spears's fizzy ''. . . Baby One More Time" into an earnest ballad -- or an obscure, never-performed-in-public album track. How about acoustic offerings, or a duet with a famous face plucked from the crowd? (At a 1994 show at the venue formerly known as Harborlights -- now FleetBoston Pavilion -- Patti LaBelle turned her encore into a diva-fest when she invited Bette Midler and Ruth Pointer onstage. )
Done right, an encore can be an extraordinary thing, the perfect coda to a wonderful show. Sure, it's expected, but it's like a gift on Christmas morning. Even when you know it's coming, it doesn't mean you'll appreciate it any less.
