Live Review: Randy Newman

Randy Newman (USA)

02/01/2004

Koningin Elisabethzaal, Antwerp (B)

Set List: Last Night I Had a Dream / Mama Told Me Not to Come / Living without You / Birmingham / The Great Nations of Europe / Marie / Short People / The Girls in My Life (Part 1) / The World Isn’t Fair / Real Emotional Girl / Red Bandana / Guilty / Rollin’ / Song for the Dead / You Can Leave Your Hat On / I’m Dead (But I Don’t Know It) / Political Science // It’s Money That I Love / In Germany Before the War / Baltimore / Mr. President (Have Pity on the Working Man) / I Miss You / You’ve Got a Friend in Me / Dixie Flyer / Louisiana 1927 / Rednecks / I Want You to Hurt Like I Do / I Want Everyone to Like Me / Feels Like Home / I Love L.A. / Shame / Sail Away // Encore: Lonely at the Top / I Think It’s Going to Rain Today

I’ve been waiting forever to see Randy Newman. The last time he played in Belgium – probably right after the release of 1999’s Bad Love – he also played a few gigs here, but I don’t even remember why I didn’t go … I probably didn’t have any cash, pitiable student that I was at the time. Indeed, it’s not that cheap, going to Randy’s gigs, but hey, he can want all the money in the world for all I care, as long as he delivers the goods. Which is exactly what he did. At 8.30 pm sharp, our host appeared on stage, greeted the audience, and without too much fuss launched into the amazing twosome of “Last Night I Had a Dream” and “Mama Told Me Not to Come.” 32 more songs followed, at least one from each of his albums. It was obvious pretty quick which songs were familiar to most people (the songs from Sail Away (4), Good Old Boys (7) and Little Criminals (3) were greeted with a lot of immediate enthusiasm) even though the lack of string embellishments and other tasteful arrangements reveals Newman’s style as a very recognizable, and for a casual fan maybe an uneventful one. However, to most people attending the show, including me, the sober set-up of “1 man, 1 piano” gave Newman the opportunity to prove himself to be a muylti-faceted songwriter. While his piano playing is rarely flashy and, in the excitement of a song like, say “Short People” or “Mama Told Me Not to Come,” occasionally allows him to regress from the clinical precision you might’ve expected, his mastery of the song and knowledge of tradition is immediately evident, whether he plays affecting ballads or ragtime-tinged songs with a ‘20’s vibe.

Like his latest album, The Randy Newman Songbook, Vol. 1 (makes you wonder how many volumes are yet to appear, doesn’t it?), the show featured songs from a 30+ year span, some of them predictable (well, you could say at least 10-15 song of those mentioned above are usually considered classics in his catalogue), some of them rather surprising (“Real Emotional Girl,” “Mr. President (Have Pity on the Working Man” – “I gotta admit, he’s an easy target,” added the singer laconically) and some even eclipsing their studio counterparts. Whereas “Red Bandana” on Land of Dreams, with its obnoxious ‘80’s production, is something of an acquired taste, it worked pretty well in the live setting. The same goes for “Living without You,” which I always thought was a bit overbearing on his debut album. A big part of his attraction is also his humorous generosity, and songs like “Short People” (“the nasty song”), his stab at old rock stars refusing to quit “I’m Dead (but I Don’t Know It),” livened up by Newman’s conducting the audience (who got to sing the “he’s dead” parts), and the all-time favorite “Lonely at the Top” (with smirk, of course), didn’t fail to crack me up. Or anyone else, except for maybe the woman next to me, who fell asleep right after the break (I’m not kidding – and I swear it wasn’t boring!). Another big portion of his output consists of ballads, and perhaps even more than the other songs, they were where Newman’s talent became most obvious. “Marie,” sung with a cracked voice much older than the one on Good Old Boys, was immensely touching, final encore “I Think It’s Going to Rain Today” probably made several hearts in the audience miss a beat, while the highlight of the evening (in my opinion), was the stupefying version of “I Miss You,” a song for and about his first wife.

Apart from Randy the humorist and Randy the balladeer, he also reared his head as the consciousness of the United States (or one of them) and the chronicler of human history, misery and pettiness. The miniature of “Birmingham” was alternated with “The Great Nations of Europe” (“400 years in 2:48”), while the disaster of “Louisiana 1927,” protest of “Political Science” and racism of “Sail Away” were treated with an introvert attack that roared louder than a wall electric guitars. But, I could go on and on, about typical Newman-stuff like “Rednecks,” “I Want You to Hurt Like I Do” and “It’s Money That I love,” about his side-splitting anecdote about how indignant he was not to have been invited to sing on “We Are the World” and how stuff like “Short People” didn’t help him to get into the list of The 100 Most Important Composers. It’s not that Newman is a cult singer who’s only worshipped by a few dozen hardcore fanatics, but each time I get these blank expressions from people after having mentioned him, I wonder why he doesn’t ring a bell like Dylan, Elton John and McCartney do. Granted, his output is quite limited (if you discount all the soundtracks and related stuff), but he made a few all-time classic albums and even his “lesser” albums contain at least a few bright stars. But let’s not preach to the converted … with his alternately subtle, moving, funny, riotous, cynical, earnest and sardonic songs about average Joes, man’s place in history, his virtues, vices and pettiness, Newman has become a songwriter of a gigantic stature. He could’ve filled those two hours with 30 other songs as well, and still get that standing ovation.

Did I already tell you that I saw Randy Newman on February 1st, 2004? Well, I did. It cost 44 euros and was worth it. Every single cent of it.