dangerous imposter

Canada Concert Sept. 2003

Urban sets C&W crowd a-rockin'
Johnson delighted to play at home

By FISH GRIWKOWSKY, EDMONTON SUN FREELANCE

Keith Urban is a dangerous imposter.

The ease with which he owned last night's soldout country crowd at the Jube was remarkable. Especially so, considering - really - you have to ask yourself, in what way is he "country?"

Ah, but therein lies his skill and beauty. Skill for the boys, beauty for the girls, incidentally. And ask any record store clerk, cookie-cutter Nashville's on its way out, anyway.

Born in New Zealand, trained in the land of Oz, there's no doubt Urban has mastered that certain Tennessee drawl when he sings his infectious dirt-road rock tunes.

He lets out with the direct passion of Garth Brooks and even, during You Look Good in My Shirt, all sweet and nasal, like Terri Clark.

So while occasionally formulaic last night, he slapped them silly with lots of humour and a very dynamic band, suprisingly full of woesome fiddle, deep bass and molten steel.

And, stupidly enough, he wasn't even the headliner.

Northern Alberta's Carolyn Dawn Johnson was.

I say stupidly, because when Urban beckoned half the Jube out of their seats to the front, there was no hesitation.

I'd never seen that rebel energy before at the soft-seater, and especially not at a country show there. If this had happened at the Winspear, security would have had aneurysms.

Basically, the headliner came on in the middle of the show. He lured everyone down with Tom Petty's 1989 hit, Free Fallin'.

There was no way to top that, once he sung Somebody Like You, until he reportedly rejoined Johnson for her encore with a Crowded House song, believe it or not.

Jimmy Rankin, who opened up for both of them, did a great job with some new folk songs and, of course, the more accepted Followed Her Around.

Johnson, for her part, did her job.

Instead of cool retro T-shirts and ragged jeans, her four players wore typical short-sleeved dress shirts.

Their sound matched their predictable outfits.

Johnson got the audience up with Little Bit of This and, right off, Georgia, the go-ahead track off Room With a View.

She was dressed like a cute cocktail waitress, and seemed sincere when she said, "It's so good to be back home."

But how do you follow the dude who should have been headlining?

The perfume dominating the air on the buckle bunnies reminded us of that the entire twangy, eager and emotional set.

But like I said, Urban's not excessively country.

He told a funny story about walking in and surprise-playing for a wedding couple outside of Dollywood.

"Then I charged them two grand. I didn't really," he added.

"It was 1500."

Urban, starting with his name, is just that. He's modernizing pitifully stagnant hot country by getting rid of the hokey shiny shirts and turning up the influences to reflect bands much better than those that live in Nashville. He's not about to take on the world, but he's definitely kicking up dust in the genre he's invaded. I mean, when was the last time you were reminded of Godspeed You Black Emperor, full of rising metal licks, at a country concert? Viva New Zealand!
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