Yahoo! Music Review

Gig played on 31/07/08

These days, because musicians tend to be insanely talented with rich creative visions, they don't rely much on stagecraft. Being Arcade Fire or Fleet Foxes or Sufjan Stevens at full tilt is stagecraft enough, it seems. But when you're a cabaret punk hamming your way through the cultural dregs of the '80s, you need some tricks and gimmicks. So Idol and long-term guitarist Steve Stevens kick off "White Wedding" with just Idol's still strong voice and Stevens bashing out the riff on an acoustic guitar. And it works brilliantly ­ whipping up a joyous clapalong and singalong out of nowhere. That's showbiz, folks.

This is the final date of Idol's European tour to support his greatest hits and, in keeping with another showbiz tradition, they've "played all over Germany". His crowd is a curious mix of ageing cyber goths, people who've danced to "Rebel Yell" at wedding receptions, and a woman behind your correspondent who bellows with laughter at every rock'n'roll cliché (ie, every 30 seconds). Everyone's here for the hits and when Idol's played "Dancing With Myself", "Eyes Without A Face" and "White Wedding" by 9:15pm, it's tempting to head off to the pub. It can't get any better than this, can it?

Alas, the answer turns out to be no. There's a moment when he strips back the basic rock'n'roll of "Sweet Sixteen" and "To Be A Lover" to sound more like the Stray Cats, playing to the strengths of his throwback croon, that makes you think this could actually work. Reinventing himself as a rockabilly party leader feels like a dignified dotage for the former Sir William Of Idol. But sadly there are too many stodgy LA rockers, a mood-killing ten minute guitar solo from Stevens (Idol nips offstage to play Scrabulous, presumably), and not enough Generation X songs (only "Ready Steady Go", when "King Rocker" would have soared).

In the end, it descends into karaoke farce. Idol throws what looks like paper plates into the crowd (clearly advanced stagecraft at work here) before a pointless version of The Doors' "LA Woman" (which becomes, tiringly, "London Woman"). "Rebel Yell" and "Hot In The City" spark fun singalongs, but an interminable version of "Mony Mony" is like slipping into a waking coma, with yet more endless guitar wa*kery (the only moment of entertainment being a roadie nipping on to squirt hand cream onto Idol's hands). But still - at least the UK escaped with just two dates. All over Germany, we feel your pain.

by Ian Watson