BERRY, LEWIS TOGETHER IN NEW YEAR’S EVE SHOW

This isn’t the quintessential tale from the book of Jerry Lee Lewis antic -dotes, but the story is pertinent to the Killer’s concert with Chuck Berry on New Year’s Eve at the Pantages.

Here’s how it goes: The flamboyant Lewis was outraged in the late ‘50s when he and Berry were booked for the same show and the promoter had the nerve to rule that Lewis should open for Berry. So, Lewis set out to prove that he was the better showman. He capped off that no-holds-barred performance by pouring lighter fluid over the piano and throwing a match on it. As flames soared behind him, Lewis leaned into the mike and said, “Let’s see (the s.o.b.) top that!”

At the Pantages, one thing was sure: This promoter was taking no chances with the piano. Instead of the usual wooden one, the piano on stage was a metal, electric one. The Killer would have needed a stick of dynamite to destroy this piano.

In recent years, Lewis has been a more compelling performer than Berry, who has tended to walk through shows, allowing nostalgic currents in his music to do the work for him. Lewis, however, has continued to be a man with passion, even though much of that fire smolders under an edge of psychological tension. Besides playing the old hits, he’ll break into a surprise blues, country or gospel number, or wander into strange, stream-of-consciousness narratives that make you think you’ve entered “The Twilight Zone.”

At the first of two shows Wednesday, the spunky Lewis, 51, seemed unsettled by time constraints. In clubs, he can play as long as the spirit pushes him, but he had to go by the clock at the Pantages. One side of him seemed to want to play through the deadline--and he ignored a couple signals to get off, but the set never hit a natural rhythm.

Berry, in contrast, was as upbeat and party-minded as I’ve seen him in years. Opening with classics like “Roll Over Beethoven” and “Sweet Little Sixteen,” Berry, 60, exhibited an energy and joy that suggested he was delighted to share once more some of the songs that established him as the first great songwriter in rock.

He seemed equally as open and involved when he sang a ballad with his daughter, Ingrid. Just when everything seemed to point to a memorable evening, however, Berry said good night. Thirty minutes! The brevity would have been disappointing under any circumstances, but it was particularly discouraging on a night when Berry was so rewarding.

There is much rich dimension to Berry’s music, and he owes it to himself and his legacy to put together a show that truly reflects it. Wednesday’s performance demonstrated that he still has the ability to bring his music wonderfully to life. The only thing left to prove is that he has the will to do it.