Ok, I admit I’m hopelessly biased on this review. See I hold the tenant that Rufus Wainwright is the finest songwriter of our generation. Even Elton John agrees, and that ain’t hay. True, Wainwright is an acquired taste, like caviar or oysters or Julie Wilson. Even I had difficulties with his nasally Canadian drawl and difficult diction (the word "be" becomes "bay") but as you adjust to his extremely distinct vocal inflections the lyrics and compositions draw you in and never fail to fascinate.

Wainwright has incorporated the very best of the great American Songbook composers and fused it with a troubadour’s sense of fascinating character/situation development set in very modern social contexts. His weaving of complex vocal patterns, key changes and lush orchestrations set his music apart from the majority of pop/cabaret material—he’s the Shubert/Gershwin/Rodgers & Hart of our day and has developed a cult following of wildly divergent fans from adoring gay youth, to middle-aged soccer moms, to astute cabaret aficionados who recognize his immense talent.

This show, featuring Rufus solo on piano and acoustic guitar, strips away all the accoutrements of his full band sound to display the barest of essentials—the haunting, languid voice, the intricate melodies and the clever lyrics. Performing material covering his prolific repertoire, Wainwright gave a comfortable, technically adroit and extremely satisfying evening of some of his best loved songs. From his latest CD Release the Stars, came the languid "I’m Not Ready for Love." Is Wainwright incapable of love as the repeated title suggests? No, he’s not ready “until I'm ready to love you the way you should be loved.” It’s sweet and tender and horribly romantic in the very best sense. Wainwright wears his heart on his sleeve and tenderly exposes it freely in songs of adolescent loves ("The Art Teacher") and the mature expressions of sexual want ("Sanssouci") the acknowledgment of beauty ("Nobody’s Off the Hook") and the angst of lost love ("Dinner at Eight"). We can all connect deeply with his astute perspectives of the heart, and can be buoyed and charmed by his lyrics that drip with irony, sarcasm and wit ("California," "April Fools" and  "Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk").

I suggest not missing your next opportunity to see Rufus Wainwright after giving his recorded music a few listens. A read of his lyrics while listening is a eureka-type experience.  His following have bumped him up to medium sized halls, but it’s still always an intimate and enchanting experience. Wainwright might defy simple categorization, but it’s definitively what I would call cabaret and he’s the best there is.

Steve Murray
Cabaret Scenes
March 9, 2008
www.cabaretscenes.org