C’mon, let him be Adam Lambert
The ‘ Idol’ star tries for a little originality at Orpheum, but that’s now what fans want.
“American Idol” introduced us to Adam Lambert, but it’s also what’s kept us from really getting to know him.
In 2009, this former San Diego theater kid struck the televised singing competition like a bolt of originality. He was sensitive but macho, showy yet deep- feeling. As a vocalist, he could level a room with pure power but was also capable of smaller inf lections.
Yet “Idol’s” method — then as now, just before the series is set to conclude Thursday night — is to smooth out that type of originality. The show sands the edges from unique talents to f it them into known compartments.
So it’s no wonder that in the years since he finished in second place ( behind the dull folkie Kris Allen, whose edges came pre- sanded), Lambert carried on in a similar fashion, trying on a succession of ready- made identities. There was a glam- rock album, a f lirtation with ’ 80s electro- funk, even a collaboration with Queen in which he more or less played the role of the late Freddie Mercury.
You could feel that pressure to conform — to live up to someone else’s expectations — Saturday at the Or-
pheum Theatre, where Lambert played the f irst of two sold- out concerts to end a U. S. tour in support of his latest record, “The Original High.”
Released in June, it’s his best album by far and also his most modern, with songs shepherded by Max Martin and Shellback, the Swedish pop wizards known for their work with Taylor Swift and Ariana Grande. In smart, slick tunes like “Ghost Town” and “Another Lonely Night,” he’s still following rules, of course, adhering firmly to current ideas about tempo and texture.
But for the f irst time since his early days on “Idol,” Lambert seems to be singing from his own perspective — and singing, not coincidentally, without much reliance on the vocal acrobatics that came to define him.
What a bummer, then, that his audience at the Orpheum appeared less interested in this refreshed individual than in the cartoon of yore.
Sure, fans cheered Lambert’s assured performance of “Ghost Town,” which sets thoughts of romantic deso- lation over a throbbing dance beat, and “The Original High,” a coolly wistful synth- pop track about that “summer back in Hollywood.” And plenty in the crowd stood when Lambert announced, “Now we’re in the club,” as his band revved the harsh but euphoric groove of “The Light.”
Yet he drew a far more enthusiastic response with his older, comparatively generic material: the disco throwaway “Fever,” in which he sounded like the world’s most overqualified wedding singer; “Runnin’,” a stock arenarock stomp; or the title track from his 2009 debut, “For Your Entertainment,” whose let- me- please- you message didn’t exactly discourage anyone from looking at Lambert as a mere object of amusement.
His beyond- tired rendition of Tears for Fears’ “Mad World” — a signature number from the later “Idol” days — got a hearty reception too, even as it made you consider what Lambert might give to never have to sing it again.
To finish the show, he did his 2012 song “Trespassing,” a muscular little protest number about how uncontainable he is. The f ierce lyrics and propulsive music were setting you up for a renunciation of all the borrowed gestures he’s been encouraged to learn — an explosion of true Lambertness, in other words.
But then the band segued into Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust,” and the place went crazy.