Alejandro Sanz Hasn’t Learned That Sometimes Less Is More

Alejandro Sanz is one of the most puzzling and ambiguous figures in Latin pop.

For the first half of his bombastic performance Friday at the Universal Amphitheatre, the phenomenally successful Spanish singer-songwriter seemed like yet another practitioner of the overproduced, calculated music that gives Spanish pop a bad name.

But writing Sanz off is not as easy as it initially seems. There was a handful of brief moments during the second half of the concert that suggested a much more complex artist.

A scruffy-looking fellow with a raspy voice, Sanz is devoid of any pretensions whenever he addresses his thousands of screaming female fans. On the other hand, most of his tunes are manipulatively sentimental, enveloped in the kind of slick instrumentation that has become the norm for the big names of the Latin pop game.

It’s really hard to believe in lyrics of all-consuming love when the words float in a cushion of cliched, seamlessly performed saxophone riffs and by-the-book guitar hooks. Interestingly, the show came to life for the first time when Sanz introduced his band, allowing each musician time for a few bars of improvisation.

Listening to the keyboardist’s tender solo, the percussionist’s syncopated conga attack and the backup vocalists’ sexy scat singing, you could only wonder what this band could do in the hands of a more democratic leader.

Still, the evening’s most revelatory moment belonged to Sanz. It came during the encore, when he climbed to a catwalk and sat on a piano to perform a spare, harrowing version of his 1995 tune “Lo Ves?” Free from the trappings of his overproduced spectacle, Sanz sounded honest and compelling. If only he would allow this side to come forth more often.