Opposites Attract

Has pop ever had two figures who appear more mismatched than David Bowie and Moby?

The suave, sophisticated Bowie looks as if he was anointed a pop star by the heavens. He came into this world with breathtaking good looks that have defied the aging process, a golden voice, superb body language and a great tailor. The stylish, three-piece suit he wore Tuesday at Verizon Wireless Amphitheater looked more expensive than your average home refinance.

By contrast, Moby seems like God’s idea of a pop-star joke. He is a self-described “skinny little geek” who has a barely adequate voice, and his wardrobe must consist of 25 wrinkled T-shirts and a pair of jeans.

But this odd couple fused their talents brilliantly in separate but equally uplifting sets at the Area2 concert Tuesday at Verizon--sets that showcased their shared abilities to address the highest aspirations of the human spirit.

There was lots more to see and hear in the day’s eclectic, eight-hour mix of contemporary pop strains, from the colorful antics of the Blue Man Group and rapper Busta Rhymes’ likable if mostly one-dimensional “put your hands in the air” exercises on the main stage to a battery of DJ performances in a nearby tent.

But this classic matchup of pop mavericks was the centerpiece, and Bowie, who came on first, seemed every bit as rejuvenated on stage as he does on his new “Heathen” album.

Bowie, who once vowed never to perform his old hits live again, devoted two-thirds of his set to songs that were 20 or even 30 years old. But the move didn’t seem like a surrender to the commercial reality that fans want to hear the familiar.

One reason is that the material, from the icy paranoia of 1975’s “Fame” to the glorious idealism of 1977’s “Heroes,” still seem fresh, both because of the quality of the songs and because the Englishman and his excellent seven-piece band--including longtime sidekicks Earl Slick on guitar and Mike Garson on keyboards--have rethought most of them stylistically.

Equally important, the six songs from the new album held their own in that classy company--reassurance that Bowie remains a vital artist who’s not depending on the oldies to hold fans’ attention.

Bowie has always been a formal--as opposed to spontaneous--artist, at various points in his career acting out numbers in concert with the ambition and staging of a video.

Despite the Broadway-style lights that spelled out B-O-W-I-E above him Tuesday, he seemed unusually personable and relaxed. Not one for talk between numbers, he even cracked a couple of corny jokes and played some wicked air guitar during one tune.

Much of Bowie’s music has dealt with themes of obsession and isolation, and he reflected that tendency Tuesday in his rendition of the Pixies’ “Cactus”--a song with the line, “Bloody your hands on a cactus tree.../...Wipe ‘em on your dress and send it to me.”

Whoa!

But the key new songs, including the wistful “Slip Away” and the delicate “5:15 The Angels Have Gone,” touch on a tender, vulnerable strain that has also run through much of Bowie’s music. When he went into “Heroes,” the audience exploded with cheering that suggested both respect and affection for this veteran figure, whose singing remains as commanding as ever.

Moby, who has been reviewed here several times in recent years, more than held his own with a dynamic, fast-paced set that showed him to be just as daring and as affecting as the man whom he calls his “all-time pop hero.”

Moving between electric guitar, keyboards and congas, the New York-based artist mixed styles even more freely than Bowie. He not only crosses genres with his mostly dance-oriented style, but he also reaches back decades for vocal samples that serve as foundations for his own new compositions.

He and his musical team, including singer Diane Charlemagne, split their time mostly between tunes from Moby’s 1999 album “Play,” and his new “18.” Along with the delirious zest of such numbers as “Bodyrock” and “Honey,” the highlight was the “Heroes”-inspired “We Are All Made of Stars.”

As Moby, who lives near the World Trade Center site, told the audience, the song is his attempt at post-Sept. 11 solidarity, a statement of community and comfort that is in the tradition of Bowie’s warmest and most comforting works.

An odd, but essential pair.