A country titan broke records with his first Atlanta appearances in 18 years. The cute Beatle proved why he’s still a melodic ace. And a hip-shaking soul singer who deserves to be much more famous kicked cancer in the gut and triumphed in her return.
Those are a few of the performers who made it into my Top 10 concerts of 2014.
It’s a challenge to winnow a list of the 100-plus shows I attended this year, from the Red Clay Theatre to the Tabernacle to the Georgia Dome. But, after much internal debate, reliance on my waning memory bank and list shuffling, these are the concerts that resonated for various reasons.
Sure, the shelf life of a boy band is equivalent to a photo on Snapchat, but that doesn’t mean they should be dismissed for what they are offering their we-love-you-forever-and-ever-and-always-until-the-next-cute-band-comes-along fans. The British quintet might have been cobbled together on a TV talent show, but in the past couple of years, Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson and Liam Payne have matured into stylish young men who don’t offer goofy coordinated dance moves, but, rather, timelessly creamy pop harmonies coupled with affable personalities. If they can make a 12-year-old girl feel special in the middle of a cavernous stadium, then they have achieved liftoff.
What a year for the humble singer-guitarist with the shaggy hair, multi-colored tattoos and poetic soul. At only 23, Sheeran has risen from pub crooner to club act to opener for buddy Taylor Swift on last year’s arena tour to headlining his own arena production — a feat he accomplished with only his guitar, looping device and some cool lighted panels accompanying him. He also possesses the beyond-admirable ability to silence a room of 10,000 people simply by asking.
It wasn’t a huge surprise that Brooks set a record at Philips with his stretch of seven shows during two consecutive weekends. But it was admirable that he not only maintained his stamina throughout, but turned a basketball arena into an intimate platform to share his immense catalog. Yeah, there was a new tune thrown into the mix, but Brooks is a savvy cat who gave fans exactly what they paid for (a truly reasonable amount at $71.50), with sing-alongs galore.
Even if we now know that Andre 3000 was apathetic about Outkast's return to live shows after a lengthy hiatus, he ably masked his feelings during the duo's triumphant three-night stand in their hometown in September. Perhaps he and partner Big Boi recognized the uniqueness of the shows. Or maybe the slew of Atlanta guests who joined them — Janelle Monae, 2 Chainz, Killer Mike, Raury, Sleepy Brown, Big Gipp, etc. — jolted some new life into the shows, which really became more like events. Whatever the motivation, Outkast was electrifying.
It’s always a joy to watch a master at work, and one thing became obvious moments into the show — Wonder still loves to play. And play. And play. He might still be on the Philips stage with his crackerjack funk band, guest singer India Arie and the songs from his landmark “Songs in the Key of Life” album except, at some point, the man had to welcome his new child into the world.
The young band from Manchester, England, stalked a darkened Buckhead Theatre stage on a majorly sweaty night and cranked out the kind of jangly, punchy songs that made acts such as INXS and Duran Duran so intoxicating in their early days. Frontman Matthew Healy emitted an innate magnetism that generated more than typical teen swooning — this dude can rock a room.
When McCartney fell ill over the summer and had to postpone a series of dates — including Atlanta’s — it became all too real, the fragility of one of music’s most enduring legends. But, four months after his hospitalization for a viral infection, McCartney cranked out a nearly three-hour set of gems that haven’t diminished an iota over the decades. And he did it all with that impish grin, his trusty Hofner bass and an airtight band that he has now played with longer than the Beatles or Wings.
If you’ve never experienced Sharon Jones live, then you really haven’t experienced music. The spitfire Jones isn’t so much a soul singer as a singer who defines soul, and to see her onstage mere weeks after completing her final round of chemotherapy for the bile duct and pancreatic cancer that sidelined her in 2013 was nothing short of stunning.
Some deride her as a moderately talented singer who requires the assistance of a platoon of songwriters to craft a hit. That may well be true. But she knows how to put on an expertly crafted pop show. Her massive Prismatic production included homages to “Cats” and Madonna’s “Vogue” as well as cutesy additions such as a golden pony and dancing mummies that suggested a Broadway show on an acid trip. Oh, yeah, and she performed about a gajillion of her hits, which, love ’em or hate ’em, get lodged in your brain.
For six months, Perry held the torch as my top concert of the year. And then Christine McVie changed everything. In a show that continuously teetered between visceral emotion and unfettered joy, Fleetwood Mac demonstrated that they are far from a retirement act. The return of McVie after 16 years has reinvigorated this band to limitless new levels. If you missed them in December, don’t skip their March return.
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