PAUL ANKA REVIEW: From teen idol to retro cool
Anka delivers two hours of hit after hit, with panache of a Vegas nightclub king
DEAN LISK
The Daily News
Paul Anka waits for a verse from the the crowd during his opening song, Diana,
which he performed walking through the audience last night at the Halifax Metro Centre. (Daily News/Paul Anka)
He was the olive in a Metro Centre martini last night. A slice of retro cool in a late-fall Halifax evening.
"It's a party, come on," Paul Anka told the crowd between stanzas of Diana, his 1957 ode to a neighbourhood crush that shot up the charts and sealed his destiny as a '60s teen idol.
Walking through an audience of more than 3,000, he stopped and got on top of a chair. He danced with some of the women and posed for photos as moved into his next song - another penned as a teen in Ottawa - You Are My Destiny.
Anka wore a well-tailored dark suit, white shirt, and a tie that slowly loosened - and then disappeared - during his two-hour show of hit after hit. His heeled shoes never stopped as he slid, jived and tapped across the stage in beat with his 16-piece orchestra.
The 66-year-old's energy level seemed to increase as the night went on, even through his multiple standing-ovation encores, which saw the tanned singer dancing and kicking.
'Anniversary'
"This is my anniversary, 50 years this month. That's right, I started when I was eight," he told the audience of men who tuck in their shirts and women who've worshipped him the length of his career.
"Hi, Paul!" one woman yelled from Section 21. "How are you?"
"I'm here, and freezing my ass off," he yelled back. "It's great to be home."
He was the consummate performer: cool, suave, debonair - and other Rat Pack adjectives.
Anka rolled out some of the best-loved of his more than 900 songs, delivering them as though he was king of a Vegas nightclub, his audience seated only a few feet away at plush, candlelit tables.
He crooned his way through My Way and Put Your Head On My Shoulder with a voice larger than his physical stature. The audience cooed.
During a skin-shivering moment he sang a duet of I'm Not Anyone with the late Sammy Davis Jr., who was projected on a screen above Anka.
He was also joined by a choir from Halifax West High School during the song Freedom for the World.
When it came time to sing his soda-shop hits, such as Lonely Boy and Puppy Love, Anka got back into the audience. The women did not rush toward him, but they came close.
"Is she with you?" he asked a man before selecting a woman in the front row as he performed.
'Just my size'
They danced together, head-to-head. "Of all the women I could have picked tonight, I found someone just my size."
He grabbed a woman's cellphone during Puppy Love, and chided her friend on the other end for not coming to the show.
Later, he stopped during a song to introduce his blond wife and two young children.
"Man, you guys are something else," he said, when he finally made it back to the stage in one piece. "Anne Murray told me about this town."
Canadian pop icon Anka still doing it his way Concert Review
By Alisha Morrissey
The Telegram 11/12/07
Sunday night I watched women twice my age act like teenagers.
I saw three women in their Christmas dresses, white hair perfectly coifed, hold hands squealing and hugging in delight and another woman, about the same age as my mother, walk through a crowd saying,"I can never wash my hand again."
These women had "rushed" the stage to sing along with and possibly touch Canadian pop legend Paul Anka.
Granted, the man puts on an awesome show.
I was shocked no panties went flying at the stage - including my own.
The handsome devil from Ottawa, a little older and a little wrinklier, is certainly still a swinger.
Anka, who wore an expertly tailored, three-piece, charcoal grey suit and black shoes (with heels), entered through the back of the stadium and shook hands the whole way to the stage singing a medley of his No. 1 hits.
He handed over the mike to several people having them sing the choruses of songs older than me.
During the first few songs people sat in their seats with their eyes fixed on the stage sort of spellbound.
Anka spent as much time in the crowd as he did on stage. Followed by a camera crew with a live feed to two humongous screens on either side of the stage for a better view for concertgoers in the bleachers, Anka climbed onto empty seats and sang out the big notes waving his arms around.
He danced with women in the audience, shook hands with countless fans and kissed literally hundreds of cheeks.
When on stage, Anka punctuated the music with his body, doing full on Elvis-style karate chops, high kicks and raising his eyebrows suggestively when he pointed at ladies in the audience.
While it seemed pretty corny for a second or two, Anka's performance generally felt really genuine. He smiled incessantly throughout the show and appeared to be teary-eyed when performing the encore - "New York, New York" - when fans walked up to the stage to reach out and touch the legend.
But of course, after 50 years in the limelight (of which there was plenty Sunday night) anyone would be skilled in the art of lighting up a room.
Anka had the audience laughing to jokes that were both well-worn and tasteful. He even had some very prim-looking ladies grinning with the one liners that aren't fit to print here.
Anka did his best Dean Martin impression, telling the crowd that the heavy drinker and former Rat Pack-er, would have been quite enamored with our Screech.
He talked about Frank Sinatra and did a video tribute to Sammy Davis Jr. Anka also performed "The Times of Your Life," with a video montage starting with his introductions by famous characters including Johnny Carson and Lawrence Welk and his own photos, taken with everyone from Elvis to Quincy Jones and his own children and wife.
While it felt at one point that he was name-dropping, I realized these weren't people he met on the street for a moment - these people were really friends with Anka.
The whole night had a sort of lounge feel to it. You could close your eyes and pretend you were in an ornate Vegas showroom with candlelit tables; like any moment a skimpily dressed girl would come for my drink order.
The 16-piece band was beyond my expectations from the first notes of "Carol of the Bells," which they opened the show with while Anka was still backstage.
The brass was so bright. The percussion was so clear I could hear every bead rattle on the Cabasa.
The fact that these guys (only one girl) were sweating their way through the show, while Anka, at least twice their age, was cool as a cucumber doing that swingy, finger-snapping thing followed by a high kick, was just shocking.
Sitting next to broadcast legend Bob Cole while he mumbled through "My Way," was a special treat.
The average age, of the mostly female audience, must have been 50, in fact, I've never felt so paranoid about being young.
People kept making sideways glances to see if myself and my guest, also a 20-something, were really singing along to this old crooners' songs.
Yes, we really were singing along - especially to the really big hits like "Diana," "My Way," and "She's a Lady."
A highlight for us younger folk, was when Anka performed "Jump," a cover of the Van Halen classic, that's been redone swing style on his recent album "Rock Swings."
I was personally disappointed that Anka didn't do his cover of Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit," but I don't think the old folks could have appreciated it the way I do.
During "Jump" - and throughout the night - he kept saying "come on and get off your arse," a word he obviously learned very recently.
People who paid $80 plus to sit close to the man (all for charity of course) got their moneys worth.
