On the Road Again
Live Reviews:

Jim Cuddy
November 5, 1998
The Phoenix Concert Theatre, Toronto, ON

All the hooks, all the melody, above all the voice, and twice the stability.

Armed with these talents, Jim Cuddy took command of the Phoenix stage and within minutes had the near-capacity hometown crowd singing along to the choruses - not only of the familiar Blue Rodeo material, but the fresher songs from his current solo album, All In Time.

Almost as striking as his clear, keening voice is how fine a songwriter he is. Cuddy can take an acid-soaked day in the BC countryside, an unhappy New Year's Eve, or an I'll-pretend-she's-you night of cheatin'; filter those experiences through an alchemy of pop, rock 'n' roll, soul and country (old and new); and project the results - with his top-notch band - so they offhandedly pin you to the wall.

The set was peppered with a few Blue Rodeo standards - "Trust Yourself," "Till I Am Myself Again," "It Could Happen To You" (a personal favourite) - but in this context, as "Jim" songs (which he did write, after all), they seemed less an acknowledgment of his history, and more of a piece with his solo work.

He's such a charming, self-deprecating gentleman, cueing his songs with a joking comment here or a moderately serious aside there. He lays claim to the stage as his natural, comfortable home.

Cuddy's generous with the band, too, allowing guitarist Colin Cripps (Crash Vegas, Junkhouse) to sing one, (Blue Rodeo) bassist Bazil Donovan to cover Steve Earle's "Sometimes She Forgets," and offering fiddle player (and multi-instrumentalist) Anne Lindsay the opportunity to blow the room away (she did, too) with her wild-ass solo on "Five Days In May." Ace drummer Joel Anderson didn't get a solo spot, but then, he was exceptional throughout the proceedings.

The encores alone were worth the admission: A soulful, churchy, three-part-harmony version of Aretha Franklin's "Do Right Woman" that owed much to The Flying Burrito Brothers' countrified cover; and a pleasantly surprising, faithfully poppy take on Elvis Costello's "Oliver's Army." (Hard to believe that sucker's more than 20 years old now).

But I did mention stability at the top, and therein lies a small but proverbial rub.

It's a minor point, but the presence of Greg Keelor provides a creative tension that drives Blue Rodeo onstage, whether it's the odd-couple bickering between songs, or the threat that the music might fall (or fly) off the face of the earth at any second. Cuddy and Keelor play off each other as near-perfect foils. In Keelor's absence, that tension's gone - and so is some of the edge. (James Gray's keyboard skills would have been welcome, too.)

The trade-off is, no 10-minute solos, semi-indulgences, off-kilter instrumental episodes or arguments - which Cuddy probably appreciates.

Of course, this isn't a Blue Rodeo show, and was never meant to be, so it's unfair to compare. But if you've seen as many Rodeo shows as I have, you can't help but do it.

Still, to dwell on it would be churlish. Considered in and of itself, it would be hard to imagine a better Jim Cuddy show than this.