Venegas’ spell proves irresistible

Friday’s delightful concert by Mexican singer-songwriter Julieta Venegas seemed like an episode of “Name That Tune” where everybody wins.

The rules were easy: Play opening bars of almost any song. Spark instant recognition from a full house at the Wiltern LG. Wait for cheers. Lead mass sing-along. Turn concert into a night around the campfire.

Hard to believe that not long ago this top-selling star was an artsy, esoteric diva with a limited following among the Latin alternative elite. You can track her evolution on her album covers -- from serious (not to say dour) chanteuse in an off-center, out-of-focus pose on her 1998 debut, “Aqui” (Here), to fun-loving celebrity pictured seductively sucking on lemon and salt in this year’s hit, “Limon y Sal.”

The former rocker from Tijuana lost some core fans along the way. But Mexico gained a new type of female pop star, one who writes her own songs, plays her own instruments (guitar, accordion, piano) and has a magical knack for melodic hooks. As Venegas proved with her irresistible performance, Mexican pop music can be both popular and respectable.

This slightly built, modestly dressed woman makes an unlikely leader of the new pop wave. She doesn’t exactly command a charismatic presence in person. She doesn’t even dance all that well. Instead of filling the room with energy like, say, her pop compatriot Juan Gabriel, Venegas appears small on stage.

Even so, she manages to be captivating. All she has to do is sing. Her songs cast the spell.

Backed by a five-piece rock band with an especially sharp drummer, Venegas performed most of the tunes from her latest album, with edgier rock arrangements. The show underscored just how strong this record is. Almost every song has charm and power.

Venegas veered from her own material in a powerful cover of “La Jaula de Oro” (The Gold Cage), an immigrant anthem by Los Tigres del Norte. The singer showed she could also muster social outrage and compassion, pounding aggressively on the keys of her piano accordion.

By contrast, “Me Voy” (I’m Leaving) must be one of the sunniest breakup songs in pop music. Without bitterness, Venegas recites her laments about an unfulfilling romance, and departs with, “Que lastima, pero adios” (What a shame, but goodbye).

No conflict. No crying. No recriminations. Just clear-eyed certainty that she should move on. That’s why the song is so upbeat. Even the guy getting dumped must feel good.

It’s a great way to end a relationship, and a concert. She leaves you hoping the whole world finds the love it deserves.