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Nelly Furtado |
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Riviera Theatre
Chicago, Illinois
04.04.02 |
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review by Matt Carmichael
Nelly Furtado is in a delicate place: caught between rock and a hip hop. At 23, Furtado is a young artist who has struggled for years to break through and now finds herself with a multi-platinum album and a Grammy Award. In order to achieve that success, a lot of marketing was involved and spread her obvious talent a little thin, which led to an inconsistent show filled with sad ironies during this Chicago appearance. That multi-platinum debut, Whoa, Nelly, is chock full of lyrics about individuality, power, and breaking free from the expectations that others set out for you to follow; therefore, it didn't seem an accident that Furtado opened her show at the Riviera theater with "Baby Girl." Starting from a position of strength, she sang, "I don't wanna be your baby girl/I just wanna be what's best for me/To be one-da-dum with my own star under my own sun."
During Furtado's 75-minute set, the clarity of that lyrical message shone through brightly, because the obvious focus of the show was the voice that delivered it. Furtado is an undeniably talented vocalist. Throughout the performance, Furtado soared and lilted above all—whether rapping, scatting, or singing on up-tempo pop gems ("I'm Like A Bird") or slower ballads like "Well, Well," Furtado's dynamic range carried the concert.
Her music, on the other hand, was an inconsistent mix of peaks and plateaus. Furtado deserves credit for her ambitious mix of pop and hip hop with flavorings from her Portuguese background, but at this point in her career, it seems as if she's bitten off more than she and her band can chew. The metal guitar riffs, the rap interludes, the synth overlays that felt like at an '80s dance club all contributed to a muddled set that had the audience on their feet at its best, but bored at its worst. The set had the manufactured feel of a Now That's What I Call Music CD compilation. Follow the formula: start up-beat, throw in a hip hop track, then drop a mid-tempo ballad, then back up and finish strong. Works great in the clubs, but its' hard for one act to pull off alone.
Because her wardrobe also seems manufactured (the entire band was outfitted in Nelly Furtado tees), it seems fair game, as well. Furtado's appearance borrows from both early Madonna and Gwen Stefani. Lightly sprinkled with glitter, the singer sported sequined jeans, a green neon belt, and a midriff-baring promotional t-shirt with the sleeves cropped. Furtado accessorized with pink fingerless gloves and various wristbands and bracelets. All totaled, her look was as inconsistent as much of the show. Fans ranged between your typical, shrill 14-year-old groupies, twentysomething women in groups (or with their boyfriends in tow), and the parents of the first sect—some of whom were smoking pot in the balcony and grooving themselves. The stage show itself, however, was all for the Britney demographic: lights, dancers, lots of hand-slapping and working the crowd.
None of this is said to downplay Furtado's songwriting and singing. Unfortunately, despite all the singer's self-confident lyrical prose, her show still feels like a pose and leaves one hoping that Nelly Furtado will develop a solid a musical vision and pull off the kind of lasting, artistic career she sings about. In contrast, opening act and lablemate Citizen Cope performed with just organ and guitar, letting the strength of voice and words carry a solid opening set of reggae-tinged hip hop with protest folk sensibilities.
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