Click here for a slide show of Keith and his fans!
“Is he even singing?” she asked.
Why yes … yes, he was.
Pretty convincingly, too.
We were only maybe a half-dozen songs into Keith Urban’s two-hour show Sunday night at Staples Center, and he had just dug up a chipper little Steve Wariner gem, “Where the Blacktop Ends,” from his post-Ranch self-titled debut of 1999. Now, gliding through “You’re My Better Half,” another of his nice-guy-in-love anthems, the 41-year-old from Down Under had entered a hyper-romantic run that would soon see him racing to the other end of the arena, female fans groping his sweaty chest and reaching for kisses as he dashed by.
Within moments, we would be a stone’s throw away from the down-to-earth sex symbol, watching (alongside last-minute opening-act replacement Lady Antebellum, who I hope took notes from their ringside spots) as Urban struck poses in black jeans and a skin-tight (and kinda girly) red plaid shirt.
“Who’s got the good seats now?” he hollered out to those who thought they were in the cheap seats. A few moments earlier he had noticed just how far removed from the action everything can be above the triple-decker luxury boxes: “Good God, you guys are sitting way up high! I think they just heard the first song.”
Back on the floor, Urban smiled through “Once in a Lifetime” (his own slice of sweetness, nothing to do with Talking Heads), then epitomized ’70s soft-pop warmth with “Making Memories of Us” –- and made virtually every cowgirl in the joint squeal when he seductively mewled its clincher: “If there’s life after this / I’m gonna be there to meet you with a warm, wet kiss.”
Yet, as if pouring ice water over their heads, he next dedicated the 10cc-ish “Only You Can Love Me This Way” to his wife, Nicole Kidman, who always seems to be in attendance whenever hubby returns to Southern California – much to the chagrin of any floozy in a low-cut top hoping to steal Keith away.
My colleague Kelli Skye isn’t one of those brazen hussies –- but she, too, was far from immune to Urban’s allure. She was near enough to take close-up pics (like the one you’ll see after you click below), yet she was still incredulous about what she couldn’t hear: “Really? He’s really singing? I seriously can’t hear him.”
It wasn’t that he was inaudible, of course, although more than a few times Sunday night I wished his vocals had been louder in the mix. Rather, Urban’s hunky soap-star looks and chiseled body were so overpowering to Kelli’s eyes, all sensation had drained away from her ears, leaving her oblivious to lyrics and melody.
Kelli, you see, is one of hundreds of thousands of women –- like so many on hand at this hi-def-enhanced spectacle -– who would gladly pay big just to watch Keith Urban step on stage and stand perfectly still. “I’d buy tickets to his gun show,” she quipped once she got a good look at his bulging biceps.
“I’d sweep those bangs out of his eyes and …”
I’m not sure I should repeat the rest of that thought.
Is it fair to objectify Urban like this without giving due props to his music? No more than it is to watch guys drool over Katy Perry’s legs and cleavage and ignore the witty charm of her pop confections. With some stars, no matter how artistically accomplished they become, the heavy lust of fans just comes with the package.
But, like fellow pinup John Mayer, Urban has a secret weapon –- his wicked skills on six strings -– that can simmer down oversexed admirers and remove doubt from his detractors. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: there is no one quite like Keith Urban in country music right now. More so than even the estimable Brad Paisley (himself a lightning-fast guitar whiz) or crossover sensations like Kid Rock and Bon Jovi, Urban represents the genre’s new vanguard.
Ever since his 2002 breakthrough Golden Road –- from which he selected five songs Sunday night, including a version of “You’ll Think of Me” that tacked on some All-American Rejects at the end, plus a blast through “You Look Good in My Shirt” sung amid a sea of fans in one of the loge sections –- Urban has excelled at crafting hook-heavy hits blur the lines between Toby Keith and Matchbox Twenty, between standard-fare stuff out of Music Row and the ham-fisted riffs-on-overdrive joy of arena-rock.
It makes sense that he now attracts more cowbro’s than cowboys – that’s what happens when you can leap in an instant from the Go Country sweet spot (on something like “Kiss a Girl”) to some sick shredding on a neon-flashing guitar ZZ Top would kill to use on its new tour with Aerosmith. Often he mashes up both modes into some of the strongest stuff still labeled country that you can find: the finish to the classic heartbreak of “Raining on Sunday” now packs the bombastic potency of Guns N’ Roses in full-blown “November Rain” mode, while “Stupid Boy,” the best of his big ballads, has become Urban’s most show-stopping guitar-hero workout yet, churning to an explosive head.
Doesn’t really matter whether ladies love that as much as dudes -– Urban has grabbed the attention of both, maintaining interest by deftly balancing beefcake and brawny riffs. What’s more, after five confident albums (not counting his pre-Ranch work), he’s only beginning to hit his stride. Just wait: a decade from now his influence could be so great that the landscape could be littered with Keith clones.
Lady Antebellum (right) deserves considerable kudos for stepping in for Sugarland at the 11th hour, as the latter band’s Jennifer Nettles has been put on doctor-ordered vocal rest and had to bow out. The change became sorely disappointing, however, as soon as the glorified bar band out of Nashville started its 40-minute set of hopelessly generic originals and stiffly delivered covers (Don Henley’s “The Boys of Summer” has never sounded so dull).
Granted, they produced a pulse with both its opening (“Lookin’ for a Good Time,” bolstered by a snatch of AC/DC) and its closer (“Love Don’t Live Here,” the trio’s only decent hit) — and overall the crowd seemed just as enthused for this performance as they might have been for Sugarland’s.
Yet what came in between those high points was so bland that, by the time the group dipped into some John Mellencamp, I was so bored that the sign-language translator in front of Section 119 was more entertaining. At least he taught me how to sign “come on, baby, make it hurt so good.”
Photos (except for Kelli Skye’s from-behind shot) by Armando Brown, for the Register. Click here for more!
Keith Urban at Staples Center, Los Angeles, July 19, 2009
Main set: (Intro music: Pete Townshend’s Let My Love Open the Door) / Hit the Ground Running / Days Go By / Stupid Boy / Where the Blacktop Ends / You’re My Better Half / Once in a Lifetime / Making Memories of Us / Only You Can Love Me This Way / Who Wouldn’t Wanna Be Me / ’Til Summer Comes Around / Sweet Thing / If Ever I Could Love / Raining on Sunday / Kiss a Girl / I Told You So / You’ll Think of Me / You Look Good in My Shirt / Somebody Like You
Encore: Tonight I Wanna Cry / Better Life
Lady Antebellum
Lookin’ for a Good Time > You Shook Me All Night Long / Love’s Lookin’ Good on You / Home Is Where the Heart Is / All We’d Ever Need / The Boys of Summer / Slow Down Sister (?) / Long Gone / I Run to You / Hurts So Good / Love Don’t Live Here
Previous reviews:
- Keith & Carrie Underwood a truly dynamic duo in Anaheim (2008)
- Keith goes beyond country at Staples Center (2007)
- Keith steps up to a bigger stage at Gibson Amphitheatre (2005)
As someone who used to be a bodyguard. I have to say the country stars I have worked with have the biggest following of hot women. I thought this was strange considering I can’t stand country music. So clearly I am missing out on something because I just don’t get it.
I was at the concert last night - great show! Although these pictures don’t show any of the hot cowgirls that were at the show last night. Yikes!
Ed, it’s the whole “cowboy” package. They know how to treat a lady, they have old-fashioned values, and aren’t afraid to say they love their momma. All in all, they are gentlemen. Of course, I’m generalizing, there are always a few who don’t qualify, but . . .
I’m shocked that the “crowd seemed just as enthused for this performance as they might have been for Sugarland’s.” When I found out Surgarland wasn’t performing, I sold my tickets. Good thing there are lots of Keith Urban fans out there!
Im not really a country music fan, nor did I pay too much attention to Keith Urban before I got dragged to the show last night by my wife, and didn’t really know what to expect. I was in for a shock, that’s for sure.
Simply put, Mr. Urban blew the roof off the Staples Center with one of the best high energy, turn-the-amp-to 11- rock shows I have ever seen.
I’m still blown away by how he can shred his guitar to pieces and sing so well. What a talent this guy is.
Im a big fan today.
Keith rocks! And by the way, in picture #18 of the slideshow, the “guitarist’s” name is BRIAN NUTTER.
Sold your tickets to a Keith Urban concert? Big mistake. He’s the best in the business.
The only reason to ever sell your Keith tickets is if you found some better seats…That was indeed a big mistake.
This music ain’t country!
The record companies have folded to the dollar and are now killing real country music with American Idol / alternative music.
Want proof? Jewel, Keith Urban, Bucky Covington, Darrius Rucker, Rascal Flats and Lady Antebellum to name just a few.
What a shame!
At least bill the singers under alternative - not country!
I prefer Karl Urban