Wednesday, March 6, 2013

Day Sixty-five - Jamiroquai: Montreux 2003, or "When you're singing about dancing, you really shouldn't be standing stark still."

I really hate that I'm about to harsh on Jamiroquai.

I'm not a true fan, I think. Really, the only songs I've enjoyed by Jay Kay and his crew are the singles Virtual Insanity and Canned Heat. They embody this odd combination of Acid and Disco that really gets you moving. Sure, it pretty much makes them one-(well, two)-hit-wonders to me, but still, I figured that I'd give the 2003 concert a chance.

Boy, was that a big mistake.

What I've come to expect from the band's videos didn't translate whatsoever to the stage. Jay Kay has absolutely no stage presence live. Really, he just stands there with the mic and occasionally shakes his hips like a geriatric with Parkinson's.

No, seriously... he wears the tracksuit and everything.

For the entirety of the two-hour plus concert, I had to physically fight the urge to switch it off and blog about something else. What especially disconcerted me was the fact that, after all that wait, they didn't even play the one song that I was holding out for, Virtual Insanity.

Now, I know that sometimes artists can feel bogged down by certain songs... that what becomes an uber-popular single can be a band's hated request, the one that they never want to ever play again. I get that. I want to respect that, but after two hours of Jay occasionally pacing up and down the stage and looking like he was recovering from a double hip replacement (poor Prince), I needed something, ANYTHING to make the whole thing worthwhile.

And I was crushed.

The urge to switch it off transitioned seamlessly into the urge to punch a hole through my television. Thankfully, I resisted, but I was certainly all but overcome with a rage to do violence. I settled on talking a brief walk and working it out of my system.

I mean, I thought I was disappointed with Roy Orbison's Black and White Night... but that was Daft Punk's Alive in comparison to how I felt after Montreaux 2003.


Unless you're a diehard Jamiroquai fan who can suffer through the decided lack of stage presence, I cannot recommend Montreaux 2003 to you. Stay away, far away. You're better off popping in the 1998 Grammy album.

Until tomorrow, Potatoes~

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