The Stylistics at Colston Hall on Tuesday 15 November 2016 - Concert Review
Posted on: 2016-11-16
Our rating:
Bristol's Colston Hall on Tuesday 15 November was home to the cool strains and romantic, melodic riffs of the very essence of soul, man - or rather, more accurately, soul men, as 1970s vocal group sensation The Stylistics took to the stage.
Preceded by warm-up act Small Town Girls - a trio of unquestionably talented Swedish songstresses who (minor quibbles) could have possibly done with a slight wardrobe re-think and more fluently coordinated, synchronised choreography, but whose acoustic rendition of Elvis Presley's I Can't Help Falling In Love With You was a sublime stand-out - the main attraction was, of course, The Stylistics.
And when the fabulous foursome waltzed onto the stage with uber-gracious ease and effortless cool and flanked by their six-piece band, the crowd went absolutely ballistic - and remained so inextinguishably exuberant for the entirety of the gig.
Best known as one of the preeminent and most successful Philadelphia soul groups of the 1970s, the band originally formed in 1968 and now comprises of two of the original members and two more recent additions. If there was ever an evening of slick moves, beautiful lyrics and a palpable, irresistible and heady wave of nostalgia, then this was most definitely it.
Still punctuated by the silky, soaring falsetto gloss made famous by Russell Thompkins, Jnr, the evening was a non-stop jukebox of classic tunes and unforgettable hits such as Can't Give You Anything (But My Love), You Are Everything, Betcha By Golly Wow, I'm Stone In Love With You, Can't Help Falling In Love, Na Na Is The Saddest Word, You'll Never Get To Heaven, Rockin' Roll Baby and You Make Me Feel Brand New.
Between the back-to-back succession of incredible soul, R&B, disco songs and epic yet intimate love ballads, the cool quartet took it in turns in the spotlight, bantered, shook hands and had selfies with front-row audience members, and were clearly lapping it all up and enjoying every single second of the evident love and adoration nearly 40 years on from a feverish, passionate, often dancing-in-the-aisles crowd who couldn't get enough of their musical heroes.
Even my mum couldn't contain herself and leaped up out of her seat at one point with irrepressible spirit to join the enthusiastic dancing multitudes. (53 years before, to the very day, she'd attended the Colston Hall to see The Beatles perform so, although it wasn't the Fab Four this time, the night still carried something of a movingly nostalgic depth and resonance.)
.jpg "The Stylistics at Colston Hall")
Evidently still awed and overwhelmed by the undeniable, often quite moving love and reverence everyone still has for them and their truly rather stunning musical back catalogue, they demonstrated time after time and song after song precisely why, though obviously with a few more grey hairs and a bit older (cue: chuckle-inducing, smoothly delivered Viagra gag), these are still masters of the medium.
Slick, stylish, charming, charismatic, utterly professional and cooler than a room full of Fonzies, these men owned the stage from the minute they walked on to the moment they stepped off. In an age of pop star nobodies wallowing in their own turgid musical mediocrity, The Stylistics remain the real deal: fabulously entertaining and musically breathtaking, plying everyone with the hits that made them a household name and the tunes the audience indubitably had come to hear.
One of the concert highlights of the year by a quartet of top musicians who can still show performers half their age how to put on a show, this was an exhilarating, energetic, unapologetically fun 90-minute crowdpleaser and a gig that left everyone with a shameless rictus grin on their mushes, a buoyant spring in their step, and those magical, nostalgic songs tripping affectionately and effortlessly from their tongues.
5/5
Article by:
Jamie is a writer, blogger, journalist, critic, film fan, soundtrack nerd and all-round Bristolian good egg. He loves the music of Philip Glass, the art of Salvador Dali, the writings of Charles Bukowksi and Hunter S Thompson, the irreverence of Harry Hill, and the timeless, straw-chomping exuberance of The Wurzels. You can sometimes find him railing against a surging tide of passing cyclists, or gorging himself senseless on the Oriental delights of a Cosmos all-you-can-eat buffet.
