Will Young, St David’s Hall

I am a latecomer to the Will Young party. I was aware of his talent show success but probably unfairly blotted him out of my consciousness for that reason. That and the grim debut single that is still one of the greatest selling of, well, some category or other.

It has only been in the last few years that the steady flow of attention-grabbing songs, particularly the mournful ballads, finally breached my wall of defence against manufactured pop stars and I realised what I had been missing.  I now own a couple of CDs, although one is the greatest hits, and I’ve watched rather than avoided TV appearances and checked out videos on Youtube. I even went to see him in my favourite musical, Cabaret, at the Savoy Theatre.

However, the concert at St David’s Hall – the Welsh leg of his Love Revolution Tour – was an altogether different thing; a sort of art-pop concept that sailed over the top of my head albeit in a pleasant way. It was a rather strange yet entertaining stage show from someone predominantly adored, judging from the audience, by groups of women and groups of gay men and even in these rather nebulous groupings, they are of certain ages.  There were, of course, all manner of groupings I am sure including couples of mixed gender, same gender and where gender is totally irrelevant, but as I say, this seemed to be a special outing for the Will Young faithful, a girls’ night out and fellow travellers. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but I did wonder what they would have made of this perplexing theatrical creation had they not been adoring fans.

If, like me, you came for the singing then you will not have been disappointed and all of the stage activity, the lights, although wonderfully atmospheric at the right times, and those other less explicable imaginations were all secondary.  Naturally, with a new album out, his sixth studio album, called 85 per cent Proof which his the top spot, there was a smattering of new songs, including a very upbeat number called Thank You, all of which were immediately accessible.  No fear of having to get through new songs waiting for the big hits to appear. Rather the whole evening was a combination of both so we had the glorious power ballads and the more bouncy singles,  Jealousy, Light My Fire, Who Am I?, Changes, Grace, and the encore closing with Leave Right Now.

The audience lapped up every moment of the 90 minute set and behaved impeccably, standing and clapping along when gestured to do so, engaging in enough of the rather surreal banter (although I could have done without the unfunny hoffi coffi stab at speaking Welsh even if it did follow an anecdote about an extremely good-looking man at a coffee drive-through) and singing along without drowning out the singer during the most enjoyable “unplugged” sections of the set.

Towards the end of the show three identical posters of Will (from the Love Revolution video) are unfurled of our star looking like some sort of Messiah figure, clean-cut, in a nifty suit and with hands clasped almost in a prayer or perhaps inviting prayer. He takes this same pose at the end of the concert. Just as at the end of the Love Revolution video he makes a facial gesture to undermine the upbeat message of the video is the whole concept one of  having a go at the corporate pop culture that spawned him or a society based on the religion of brands and materialism?

Is this also why he had his crew bring on a wheeled-on piece of apparatus that has rollers enabling a sort of Generation Game conveyor belt on which tour merchandise is placed (a few items given to audience members – yes, there was a cuddly toy – including to those who shared anecdotes with him when prompted to) and the rest thrown on the floor and discarded? An anti-merchandise statement? Strange, as he and his singers (excellent they are) all wear such clothing once our star has discarded the top half of his odd Kimono-esque/ Shaolin monk-esque black outfit. The outfit and a swept up top knot was reflected in the Tai Chi sort of movements around the stage. When he is not making these movements his dances around the set remind me of a young Andy Bell from Erasure, a sort of late 80s happy pop style.

Stage activity also included the opening number set piece of singing against a wind machine blowing shreds of paper and newsprint at him (while singing Brave Man from the new album) and this extended to glitter descending from the heavens and then a multi coloured strips of paper confetti fluttering onto the audience.

He climbed onto a sort of platform on the rollers of that conveyor belt device to sing Like A River ( is that the river?) from the new album and contrasts such arty experimental performance with old-fashioned rocker poses with his band. All fun and some of it probably deeply meaningful, as was no doubt the plastic strip curtain that was wheeled on in the closing moments and behind which Will and his complete entourage pose at the end. The stage crew wore white all in one overalls, think police at a scene of crime investigations, and ominously moved around, operating the fans and other gizmos as if we were in a quarantine area where an experiment was taking place.  In some ways I suppose it was.

Yes, Will Young is still the sweet, charming, every mother’s son, a little bit cheeky, likeable chap whose success allows him to dabble in  more edgy performance styles. Ultimately, however, what sets him apart is that  the man can sing, he can deliver a haunting lyric that moves and delights, he can up the pace to be convincingly pop and peppy, his voice is elegant, distinctive and rare in the range and  diversity of songs he can embrace.

Show photography: Gareth Griffiths