Things just don't quite gel for sincere Hamilton

REVIEW - ANTHONY HAMILTON
Criterion Theatre

THIS gig ended with me hiding my head in my cardigan.
Why? Because poor Anthony Hamilton was dying onstage and I couldn’t take it.
The American soul singer is gifted with one of the best voices around and yet he absolutely flopped at the Criterion Theatre in Piccadilly Circus, despite a lunge into the crowd late on in the evening, commendably attempting to resuscitate the night.
Was the venue to blame? With the audience seated throughout, it all felt very flat.
Apart from some bobbing heads, the crowd only came to life when dragged off their feet by a Jabba-the-Hutt like backing singer for the closing number.
Is it that English people are simply too stuffy for the heart-on-sleeve style of the religious Hamilton?
He actually drew guffaws from the crowd as he preached about love. Imploring us to treat each other with respect, he added: “Even the ones addicted to pornography.”
Had no one told him British people ridicule such earnest claptrap – it wasn’t some Evangelist channel.
Maybe his set was too long, maybe his funky tweaking on the night was too different from the recorded version, or maybe he just doesn’t “get” the Brits.
But his standout tracks Charlene and Comin’ Where I’m From went down a treat with all.
Maybe he just shouldn’t ask us to lose our inhibitions.

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