The pint-sized pop star is a master of Seventies soul
Bruno Mars is an imitation pop star, a pint-sized impersonator almost entirely lacking in originality or even his own distinctive identity. Yet he has thrived because he has a range of skills that put almost all of his contemporaries and rivals to shame. He concocts supremely catchy, hookladen hits, plays mean soul rhythm and wild fast-fingered rock guitar, moves like a slickly choreographed street dancer and sings with the bravery and determination to squeeze every last note and every ounce of passion out of his larynx.
It is not just that he knows how to put on a pop show – he knows how they used to put on a show before live performances gave way to jumped-up lip-syncing. Mars and his supremely drilled seven-piece band dare to perform at vast arenas as if Auto-Tune, loops, samples, sequencers and backing tracks had never been invented. This fantastically entertaining show was a dazzling throwback – almost a tribute – to the classic James Brown soul revues of the Sixties and the funk and soul extravaganzas of the early Seventies, with a swaggering frontman and virtuoso ensemble putting each other through their paces. It was an exhibition of razor-sharp grooves, pinpoint harmonies and delightful dance moves, in which the musicians were enjoying themselves as much as the loud, appreciative audience.
Although he has been knocking out smash hits since 2010, Mars has never really settled on a style of his own. But he is a very effective pasticheur. Growing up in Hawaii, he started out as a child Elvis Presley impersonator and made a living prefame in a popular LA covers band. Running through his big singles in the last quarter of the show, he turned into a one-man tribute act. Runaway was pure Sixties go-go. Grenade and Just The Way You Are were big bythe-numbers ballads establishing unexpected connections between Michael Jackson and Coldplay. Locked Out of Heaven sounds like the ultimate Police impersonation. The finale was an uproarious run through his 2014 Mark Ronson collaboration Uptown Funk, on which Mars conjured up Seventies soul-disco so effectively it inspired multiple copyright lawsuits and wound up with nine songwriters credited. Nevertheless, he evidently enjoyed mining that era so much that it provided the inspiration for his latest album, 24K Magic, and the staging of this tour.
The production was superb. The band performed on what looked like a giant TV set in the ultimate episode of Top of the Pops or Soul Train. Reflective surfaces, flashing lights, hydraulic mini-stages, hyper-mobile spotlights, dry ice, pyro and fireworks kept the visuals moving while leaving space for the band to strut their stuff. And the focus really was on the music and performance, which was at once delightfully hammy (all those Stylistics-style smooth choreographed movements and sweet stacked harmonies) and utterly committed. The only thing I would question is the mustard and white baseball suits: Mars’s band looked less like a street gang than servers at a fast-food chain.
Mars clearly enjoys being part of an ensemble, entering into all the choreography and adding to all the harmonies with grinning delight. He may not have the almost supernatural gifts of Prince, the physical command of James Brown or the smooth vocal flexibility of Marvin Gaye, but he somehow pulls off a very impressive approximation of all three, often all at the same time.
Maybe originality is overrated. This was showband showmanship of the very highest order.