The homecoming queen

With five shows left on the world tour that’s kept her on the road for much of 2007, Gwen Stefani stopped at the Honda Center in her Anaheim stamping grounds Saturday night, and to mark the occasion, KIIS-FM (102.7) threw a homecoming celebration -- complete with the USC marching band -- for 17,000 or so of Stefani’s closest friends.

The No Doubt frontwoman shared the stage with some high-profile opening acts, each compelled to perform not only out of respect for Stefani but also by the unspoken quid pro quo that radio-festival gigs represent to artists interested in preserving their on-air presence.

Timbaland, the influential hip-hop producer who this year has become a pop star in his own right, performed, as did the Brooklyn rapper Fabolous, Nicole Scherzinger of the Pussycat Dolls, R&B; crooner Lloyd and Sean Kingston, the 17-year-old Jamaican singer whose “Beautiful Girls” made a serious run for song-of-the-summer status.

Still, there was no question that this was Stefani’s party. When her song “Wind It Up” cropped up in an energy-drink spot during an interstitial video package, the crowd cheered as though the singer herself had appeared.

The roar reached a deafening level when that actually happened.

On her two hit solo albums, Stefani has made much of the idea that she’s “just an Orange County girl living in an extraordinary world.” Thankfully, that’s not at all the case.

In fact, she’s a smart, savvy professional who knows what it takes to make an arena show work. Performing an abbreviated 45-minute version of the spectacle-packed set she premiered in April at the Coors Amphitheatre in Chula Vista, Stefani did appealingly goofy dance moves, changed costumes nearly half a dozen times and mugged for the cameras like a silent-film star -- all while singing in a voice stronger than many of her peers often muster live.

For “Cool,” a gorgeous new-wave tune about her faded romance with No Doubt bassist Tony Kanal, the singer (and a crew of beefy bodyguards) snaked through the adoring hometown crowd. “This is where I grew up!” she crowed, and for a moment the disbelief was audible in her voice.

Compared to Stefani, everyone else on the bill seemed to be killing time onstage while they waited for their dressing-room refreshments to be replenished.

Fabolous couldn’t have seemed more bored as he commanded audience members to get their hands up. Kingston, looking rotund but not exceptionally jolly, sang along halfheartedly to his filler-stuffed CD. Scherzinger’s dancing came through loud and clear, but her vocals were swallowed by booming digital beats. Lloyd took off three different shirts.

In a fascinating display of the producer’s behind-the-scenes inferiority complex, Timbaland spent most of his set insisting that fans prove they value him as much as Justin Timberlake, Nelly Furtado and the other stars for whom he’s crafted hit records. His groundbreaking music is easy to love, but when it comes to live performance, Timbaland could do with a lesson or two from Stefani. With any luck, her enthusiasm might prove contagious.