MUSIC REVIEW : Bryson’s Fair Show Slowed by Talking

When a performer sings 10 songs in a 90-minute show, it means one of two things: Either the songs are very long, or there’s an awful lot of slack time between tunes. Unfortunately, in the case of Peabo Bryson’s concert at the Del Mar Fair’s Grandstand Stage on Tuesday night, it was the latter.

Bryson’s rambling monologues put so much distance between musical peaks that the singer was unable to achieve any kind of momentum, let alone sustain it. His pacing was snappy only by comparison with the “living tableaux” at the Laguna Art Festival. The shame of it is that Bryson’s keener moments would have added up to a virtually unassailable performance in a more compact presentation.

Dressed in the same custard-yellow dinner jacket and black slacks that he wore on the cover of his hit 1991 album, “Can You Stop the Rain,” Bryson demonstrated two things to a crowd of about 2,000: that a great voice can offset most performance miscues, and that he should be a much bigger star than he is. In that last regard, Bryson’s surge-and-recede concert pacing mirrored the oft-stymied progress of his career.

Beginning in the late ‘70s, Bryson was on a course to overtake Teddy Pendergrass and other ladies’-choice soul crooners. He had one of those voices that occasionally breaks through the pack to claim its own territory. Such hits as “Feel the Fire” and “I’m So Into You” led to popular duet work with Natalie Cole (“What You Won’t Do for Love”) and Roberta Flack (“Tonight I Celebrate My Love”). When Bryson’s 1984 single “If Ever You’re in My Arms Again” went to No. 1 on the charts, it looked as though he was on his way.

Instead, Bryson spent the next six years zig-zagging among four different record labels, with only occasional success. When the title track from last year’s “Can You Stop the Rain” album became a hit, it seemed a signal that Bryson had emerged from his professional funk. But one wondered if another derailment lay ahead, especially when the artist canceled three subsequent appearances at San Diego venues.

On Tuesday night, Bryson made veiled references to his having survived the last few years of uncertainty, and at one point he thanked the assemblage for letting him back into their lives. He also allowed how fortunate he is to have access to the media of records, radio and live performance. In fact, not many thoughts crossed Bryson’s mind that he didn’t deem worthy of a lengthy discourse.

Bryson and his 10-piece band got the show off to a promising start with 1977’s “Reaching for the Sky” and the medium-groove ballad, “Lost in the Night,” a Cynthia Weil-Barry Mann penning from “Can You Stop the Rain.” Though some abrupt phrase-endings and aborted high notes suggested that he hadn’t properly warmed-up the pipes, his singing was strong and clear. Then, he launched into a long speech about “the down side of love,” during which he intermittently chatted with some of the fans standing in front of the temporary stage.

Bryson finally got back on track with his improved version of Michael Bolton’s “Soul Provider,” which the singer dedicated to its obvious influence, Marvin Gaye. More schmoozing led to “If Ever You’re in My Arms Again,” which Bryson performed with surprising emotion, given the 8-year-old hit’s perfunctory inclusion in the set.

It would be a long-winded march to the next tune. Bryson chose this point in the show to discuss his born-again Christianity. On the up side, he was more coherent in this undertaking than lunar-module Al Green usually is. On the down side, the sermon lasted several minutes, and one could almost feel the energy draining from the audience.

Bryson’s missionary interlude concluded with a heartfelt reading of his one-world, anti-oppression ode, “I Wish You Love,” from the last album. But this led to the concert’s most awkward moment. When a performer talks about Jesus Christ one moment and, in the next, does a bump and grind while entreating the audience with “let’s get crazy and move our butts a little,” you have to resist a strong impulse to laugh. Bryson saved some face with an interpretation of Al Wilson’s “Show and Tell” that seemed to regain the crowd’s attention, but someone should suggest to him a more gradual transition.

Bryson scored with the mainstream fans with a duet with one of his trio of female backup vocalists, Sassondra Myers, on the Oscar-winning theme song from “The Beauty and the Beast,” which he introduced as having been his “first multi-platinum anything.” Then he made them wade through several more minutes of philosophizing before eliciting a cheer of recognition with “Can You Stop the Rain.”

Bryson injected the handsome if somewhat formulaic, Jeffrey Osborne-ish ballad with almost tangible emotion. Unfortunately, one was distracted from the love-anguish lyrics by the over-choreographed gyrations of the backup vocalists, who appeared to be rehearsing a synchronized-swimming routine within an arm’s reach of Bryson.

Bryson literally closed the show on a high note with 1977’s “Feel the Fire,” which was greeted with loud approval from a group of fans who had been loudly requesting it. Singing with a passion that recalled why critics once predicted great things for him, Bryson seemed to be hitting a major peak. But coming after so many valleys, it was just a little too late.