As great as Michael
Jackson was on stage and
record, the candid moments
throughout his filmography
showed just what
an improbably inspired
individual he was. As a
pop dancer, he was without
peer. Even the fluidity,
gracefulness and timing
of his every movement in
This Is It — a film in which
an emaciated Jackson was
allegedly mailing in his effort — was breathtaking,
almost alien-looking. As an arranger and
bandleader, his ear for his music was beyond
reproach. His gentle correction of bass player
Alex Al during tour opener “Wanna Be Startin’
Something” epitomized the clarity and candor
of his creative vision. As an artist, he was the
Paragon of Pop, working obsessively to temper
the entertainment business’s greatest skill set.
Michael Jackson wasn’t trying to fi ll anyone’s
shoes. So why is Usher so infatuated with filling
MJ’s? An even better question though is:
Why does he think he can?
He’s only just past the midway point of the fi rst leg of his massive OMG World Tour, but the R&B megastar’s performance at the Greensboro Coliseum on Dec. 7 showed a man, like his yogi in This Is It, looking weary and complacent. He seemed to retreat behind his vocal tracks when the intricate dance routines with his nineperson back-up crew became too demanding. He never broke script the few times he engaged the audience, going line for line with the same banter he’s deployed in most every other city. Whenever things were going slow, as they invariably did during his uneven two-hour show, Usher prodded the 9,000-strong, predominantly female crowd’s libido by showing a little ab at times and completely de-shirting more than once.
Still, it might not be appropriate to pin Usher’s seemingly diminished enthusiasm on fatigue. Usher, first dressed in tactical commando gear and then in several eras of MJ attire, looked to be in incredible shape. If it is indeed Usher’s ambition to be the heir apparent to the throne of pop, he’s doing little to separate himself from other wannabes based on his current output. At age 32, Michael Jackson was coming off of a string of legendary albums, while Usher’s recent number one album Raymond vs. Raymond is a regression into cold commercialism built on listless, desperate sex jams, widely panned in reviews, and his momentum-sustaining EP Versus is comprised of its castoffs.
His live performance, though, does have its moments. Opener “Monstar” saw him arrive from behind the crowd on a moving platform as the song’s intro played on. After a timing miscue left him momentarily bobbing in the air, Usher descended to the stage in a Matrix-y space walk as dancers fl ooded from backstage. The groove awkwardly shifted from the dubstep-pop hybrid of “Monstar” to the brassy jungle boogie of album mate “She Don’t Know,” but what came next was a bit of a shock. Few artists, if any, have had a hit in the last decade as big as “Yeah!,” and it only seems logical to play the ace when it’s most needed. Yet, three songs into the show, Usher stares down the audience for an uncomfortable two minute span and unleashes the song that, in 2004, embedded itself into the brain of every club-goer for an entire year.
Usher discarded his pop-warrior façade for a red leather jacket and black pants reminiscent of Jackson circa Thriller, as he dipped into 8701 for “U Remind Me” and a passionately rendered “U Don’t Have to Call,” arguably the height of the set save for the choreographed power-tool foolery. From there, though, the show went into a bit of a tailspin.
“Not too long ago I paid tribute to one of the greatest entertainers that ever lived. I’m just wondering if you guys would mind if I did it again tonight?” Usher asked, as a pair of glittery moon boots came in via conveyor belt. “Do I have your permission to fi ll his shoes?” As smooth as Usher was on stage at times, his musicless dance tribute to the King of Pop’s memory merely appeared labored and discomfi ted in comparison — a reminder of what an improbably high bar Jackson has set.
As the show bounced back and forth between My Way (without ever performing the hit title track) and his 2010 output, Usher’s loverboy shtick grew increasingly tiresome as the set begged for a spark. While it would have been an ideal spot for “Yeah!” to jog the room’s energy level, at least “Burn” revisited Usher’s more incisive, romantic side for a moment. The show went heavy on the visuals from there, including blinding pyro for “Caught Up” and futuristic neon streaks on the LED screen for the surprisingly good “DJ Got Us Fallin’ In Love” that recalled classic Tron effects. The stage was fl ooded with fog and the star bathed in light after a video intro by famed disc jockey Fatman Scoop for show closer “OMG.” It was an inspired effort to close, but possibly all for naught as the crowd, disappointing in size to begin with, had dwindled by a third in the last 20 minutes.
Though not much of an innovator, Usher has fashioned himself into a relatively skilled appropriator, which made his repeated stabs at usurping Jackson’s legacy feel wanton and imprudent. There was a time in his career that it appeared Usher might have been able to carry the torch of arguably the greatest solo artist and entertainer the world has ever known. At this point though, he’s moved well past that crossroads, choosing the path of the entertainer over that of the artist.
He’s only just past the midway point of the fi rst leg of his massive OMG World Tour, but the R&B megastar’s performance at the Greensboro Coliseum on Dec. 7 showed a man, like his yogi in This Is It, looking weary and complacent. He seemed to retreat behind his vocal tracks when the intricate dance routines with his nineperson back-up crew became too demanding. He never broke script the few times he engaged the audience, going line for line with the same banter he’s deployed in most every other city. Whenever things were going slow, as they invariably did during his uneven two-hour show, Usher prodded the 9,000-strong, predominantly female crowd’s libido by showing a little ab at times and completely de-shirting more than once.
Still, it might not be appropriate to pin Usher’s seemingly diminished enthusiasm on fatigue. Usher, first dressed in tactical commando gear and then in several eras of MJ attire, looked to be in incredible shape. If it is indeed Usher’s ambition to be the heir apparent to the throne of pop, he’s doing little to separate himself from other wannabes based on his current output. At age 32, Michael Jackson was coming off of a string of legendary albums, while Usher’s recent number one album Raymond vs. Raymond is a regression into cold commercialism built on listless, desperate sex jams, widely panned in reviews, and his momentum-sustaining EP Versus is comprised of its castoffs.
His live performance, though, does have its moments. Opener “Monstar” saw him arrive from behind the crowd on a moving platform as the song’s intro played on. After a timing miscue left him momentarily bobbing in the air, Usher descended to the stage in a Matrix-y space walk as dancers fl ooded from backstage. The groove awkwardly shifted from the dubstep-pop hybrid of “Monstar” to the brassy jungle boogie of album mate “She Don’t Know,” but what came next was a bit of a shock. Few artists, if any, have had a hit in the last decade as big as “Yeah!,” and it only seems logical to play the ace when it’s most needed. Yet, three songs into the show, Usher stares down the audience for an uncomfortable two minute span and unleashes the song that, in 2004, embedded itself into the brain of every club-goer for an entire year.
Usher discarded his pop-warrior façade for a red leather jacket and black pants reminiscent of Jackson circa Thriller, as he dipped into 8701 for “U Remind Me” and a passionately rendered “U Don’t Have to Call,” arguably the height of the set save for the choreographed power-tool foolery. From there, though, the show went into a bit of a tailspin.
“Not too long ago I paid tribute to one of the greatest entertainers that ever lived. I’m just wondering if you guys would mind if I did it again tonight?” Usher asked, as a pair of glittery moon boots came in via conveyor belt. “Do I have your permission to fi ll his shoes?” As smooth as Usher was on stage at times, his musicless dance tribute to the King of Pop’s memory merely appeared labored and discomfi ted in comparison — a reminder of what an improbably high bar Jackson has set.
As the show bounced back and forth between My Way (without ever performing the hit title track) and his 2010 output, Usher’s loverboy shtick grew increasingly tiresome as the set begged for a spark. While it would have been an ideal spot for “Yeah!” to jog the room’s energy level, at least “Burn” revisited Usher’s more incisive, romantic side for a moment. The show went heavy on the visuals from there, including blinding pyro for “Caught Up” and futuristic neon streaks on the LED screen for the surprisingly good “DJ Got Us Fallin’ In Love” that recalled classic Tron effects. The stage was fl ooded with fog and the star bathed in light after a video intro by famed disc jockey Fatman Scoop for show closer “OMG.” It was an inspired effort to close, but possibly all for naught as the crowd, disappointing in size to begin with, had dwindled by a third in the last 20 minutes.
Though not much of an innovator, Usher has fashioned himself into a relatively skilled appropriator, which made his repeated stabs at usurping Jackson’s legacy feel wanton and imprudent. There was a time in his career that it appeared Usher might have been able to carry the torch of arguably the greatest solo artist and entertainer the world has ever known. At this point though, he’s moved well past that crossroads, choosing the path of the entertainer over that of the artist.
