McCoo, Davis: What growing old gracefully sounds like
It was Fil-American Friendship Day, July 4, when former Toto singer Bobby Kimball performed at the SMX Convention Center—the last of his four-night series that took him to Cebu, Tacloban, Genting (Malaysia) and, finally, Manila.
Apropos to the occasion, a Pinoy band, Zoo, was hired to back up Kimball, who said in an interview a few days before the show that he would likewise be singing some Beatles, Led Zeppelin and other classic rock stuff.
The whole idea sounded exciting, and we considered smoking ganja to get into the “proper” mood. Alas, not even beer was available at the venue. But never mind, we thought, the music would surely take care of everything.
A few days later, looking back on what transpired still made us grope for words that would help make sense of it. In hippie terms, it was like an acid trip gone wrong.
To start with, how else to describe what was supposed to be a rock concert, but which had, as front act, a group called Mucho Macho, whose two female members were outfitted like a striptease act?
When the group opened with “Bonggahan” and the girls started undulating, we secretly wished someone would come along with some weed—at the very least, we could have a laughing trip! Especially when Mucho Macho front man Sonny Parsons, ex-Hagibis leader, came on, and proceeded to cover The Village People’s “YMCA” and “Macho Man” with a lone backup vocalist. In fairness, Parsons gamely played along with the ruse and sounded like the original—making him a perfect clone who didn’t need to have former Hagibis cohorts by his side.
When he segued to Hagibis’ “Nanggigigil Kami,” “Legs” and “Katawan,” our imagined jutes trip wore off and harsh realization set in: Jeez, these were the very songs that rock star-turned-record label executive Mike Hanopol was forced to write on the behest of his bosses to take advantage of the disco trend in the late 1970s.
We felt good for a spell when a second front act, a lady introduced simply as Joyce, courageously performed minus-one versions of Michael Jackson and Maureen McGovern songs and one by Lani Misalucha, “Tila.”
Turned out, Joyce was the grand winner of the recently concluded “OPM@Pagcor” singing contest. Somehow, she soothed our nerves.
It took a little more time, but when Kimball finally appeared, we wanted to shout to the heavens. “Lord, forgive us, but could You please send some heroin?”
We can explain: Opiates just then might have deadened the senses and the pain of hearing Kimball struggle in such “easy” Toto songs as “Georgy Porgy” and “99.” It bothered us to watch him sip water a little too often, like he was suddenly stricken with stage fright. He was also taking bits of… something, chewing it like bubble gum. Whatever it was, it didn’t improve his singing.
The problem, we thought, was that the 64-year-old Kimball tried to tackle the Toto hits in their original keys. But those were recorded in his peak years, from the late ’70s to the early ’80s, when he provided the lead vocals to such classics as “Hold the Line,” “You Supply the Love” and “Rosanna,” as well as the backup vocals on “Africa.”
He should have just improvised, as would experienced jazz or blues artists; sadly, he kept struggling… and struggling some more, until he covered “Stairway to Heaven” and his voice cracked, of course.
Mercifully, all was not lost. His best moments came while playing keyboards and singing two swinging old tunes that he credited to “Professor Longhair” and which he dedicated to US Ambassador Harry Thomas, seated in the front row.
Zoo saved Kimball from ending up a total wreck. The band took over center stage whenever Kimball had to take a break and, true to its vaunted good-as-the-originals playing skills, entertained the crowd in grand Fourth of July fashion.
Zoo’s covers of The Beatles, Tears for Fears and Van Halen were enough to overturn what could’ve been a nightmare.
An all-hits show
In striking contrast, three days later, the concert of Marilyn McCoo and Billy Davis Jr. at the Araneta Coliseum was the very definition of “growing old gracefully.”
Front act Arthur Manuntag sang with a full band, lending his own touch to soul music. He highlighted his set with an emotional version of “Kahit Isang Saglit,” which he dedicated to his mother, who was in the audience.
McCoo, 67, and Davis, 73, breezed through a 15-song repertoire with power and confidence—eliciting gasps of approval from a delighted audience.
It was an all-hits show, with the husband-and-wife team refreshing their fans’ memories, starting with the first four numbers: as members of the group 5th Dimension in 1967’s “Up, Up and Away” and 1972’s (“Last Night) I Didn’t Get To Sleep At All”; as a duo in 1976’s “You Don’t Have to Be a Star (To Be in My Show)”; and again with the group in 1969’s “Wedding Bell Blues.”
McCoo and Davis acknowledged the collaborative effort that went into the songs, citing composers Jim Webb, Laura Nyro and others, as well as producers and musicians who worked with them in the studio.
Davis’ elegant R&B singing style shone in a solo spot that recalled his roots, influenced in part by the legendary Sam Cooke, via the gospel sound of “A Change Is Gonna Come.”
McCoo had her own solos as well. Though there were at least two instances (“If I Could Reach You” and “One Less Bell To Answer”) when McCoo’s full-bodied voice bumped into little rough edges in the middle stanzas, she quickly ironed them out and finished with aplomb.
The couple was excellent as a duo on covers of “Chain of Fools,” “You Are So Beautiful,” “People Get Ready” and “Try a Little Tenderness”—their voices smoothly gliding up and down the grooves and rhythms of those classics, the music pumped solidly by a five-member band.
This band, composed of guitarist Major Black, bassist Kevin O’ Neal, drummer David Cowan, keyboardist David Iwataki and pianist Darrell Alston, was the current that charged Davis’ rendition of the 1955 blues vamp tune “All Around the World.”
The gig’s climactic finale, “Age of Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In,” had the crowd all hyped up. We felt like dancing, the way McCoo did at the height of flower power—even if our hair is now too short.
