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Concert reviews Music

Charles Bradley

CHARLES BRADLEY at the Phoenix, Saturday, May 11. Rating: NNNNN


Charles Bradley is a human time capsule. Everything about his act – his purist soul, throwback funk, showmanship, wardrobe, storytelling – recalls early 60s Apollo and Motown heyday without ever veering into schtick.

And when he emerged Saturday and belted Crying In The Chapel, the present-day Toronto house – who had giddily, anxiously, patiently waited about an hour longer than expected – was transported, locked in.

His voice is magnificent – an enormous raspy wail that conveyed pain, pleasure and passion on Confusion, You Put The Flame On It and Golden Rule. He screeched James Brown-style often and effectively he swung his mic stand expertly his dance moves alternated between sensual shimmying, the robot, and unselfconscious freestyle dissolution into the music he crouched down and morphed his arms above his head into a heart shape. His backers, the six-piece Menahan Street Band were marvellous without ever stealing the show (with a frontman as genuine as Bradley, this is impossible).

You can get a sense of Bradley’s incredible life story by listening to his lyrics, or you can watch Soul in America, the documentary that tracks his six decades of struggle and recent success. Or, you can just look at his face when he sings Why Is It So Hard – a bring-the-house-down ballad he saved for the finale before descending into the audience.

Hopefully, it’s not so hard anymore for Bradley. He gave a lot of love to Saturday’s audience, and got a lot in return.

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