Adele, with Wanda Jackson
Greek Theatre
Aug. 15
4.5 paws
Adele’s entrance onto the stage at her sold-out show at the Greek Theatre Monday night was fittingly without spectacle or any visuals at all. Her physical presence was preceded by that which sets her apart from all other musicians today: her voice.
With the stage dark and a few ominous piano chords from “Hometown Glory” the only audible sound, that rich, soulful voice suddenly burst forth. Pausing for a moment to allow silence to descend upon the audience, the curtains rose, revealing the chart-topping Brit in all of her big-haired glory.
It was a fitting entrance for the 23-year-old singer, whose music has never been about costume changes, pyrotechnics or vulgar lyrics. A few notes from her voice alone forced the audience to its feet in a rare opening number standing ovation.
Rockabilly legend and Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductee Wanda Jackson opened the show with a lengthy set that took the audience on a journey from her first tour with Elvis Presley ““ whom she dated briefly ““ to her collaboration with Jack White in 2009. The adorably feisty Jackson yodeled her way into the audience’s collective heart, a representative of the long history of blues, country, and rock and roll music without which, Adele later admitted, “Rolling In The Deep” would not exist.
In an homage to “the Old Hollywood look,” Adele walked onstage wearing a black dress embellished with subtle sequins and a big, blown-out hairdo that, she confessed, was half her own hair and half a wig.
Beneath dozens of hanging illuminated lampshades, she performed a well-paced set of songs from both her albums as well as a bluesy, banjo-laden cover of The SteelDrivers’ “If It Hadn’t Been For Love.”
Slow-burning ballads such as “Take It All” best showcased the nuances of Adele’s powerful voice. Standing alone on stage with nothing but a piano player, that magnificent instrument rolled across the crowd, the slightest waver, crack or snarl revealing the deep well of emotion that lay beneath each lyric. The majority of Adele’s songs were, after all, written by the artist in the wake of painful breakups.
Such slower moments were offset by upbeat stomping numbers such as “Rumour Has It,” which ended with the singer emphatically pointing both middle fingers to the sky.
The power and beauty of Adele’s music would have been enough to make a memorable show, but the contrast of the classy, sophisticated sound of her music with her thick Cockney accent and hilariously candid, and often foul-mouthed, stage banter created a buoyant atmosphere that no album could capture.
“Can I have my Beyonce fans on? I getting a bit sticky,” she said jokingly at one point as a massive fan was rolled up behind her. “I’m not sure why I sweat like Beyonce. I don’t dance like Beyonce.”
Such jokes were frequently punctuated by the singer’s cackling laugh, the kind of irresistibly joyful sound that forces a laugh from everyone within earshot.
When she announced that “Make You Feel My Love,” played as a tribute to the late Amy Winehouse, would be her last song, the audience moaned in sadness, prompting another refreshingly honest wisecrack from the singer.
“I’m just adding some drama to our show,” she said. “I don’t have any “¦ fireworks. I’m gonna go off, and then I’m gonna come back on, but I’m gonna pretend like I’m not.”
Adele need not have worried about adding drama to her show; her voice and stage command were enough to captivate the audience. It was the kind of show that felt like it was over far too quickly.
Adele may wear fake hair and sequins when performing in Los Angeles, but underneath, she’s a real person. She gets nervous and sweaty onstage, swears, mourns the loss of friends, and gets her heart broken. In a music industry in which artists often do not write their own songs and in which emotion, therefore, seems put on, it is refreshing to witness an artist who exudes authenticity with every f-bomb and with the slightest quiver in her voice.