Nicolas King
Birdland, NYC, February 10, 2016
Reviewed by Rob Lester for Cabaret Scenes
Once upon a time, in a kingdom called Cabaret, there was a perky, very young prince named Nicolas who had a voice of gold. He greatly admired the kings and queens of music, living and dead, who’d ruled in the past. They were his idols. He studiously spent his days in their fan clubs and his nights in a nightclub, singing with skill even before he was a teenager. An evil witch cast a spell on him, making this situation of emulation appear too close to imitation, causing limitation in how his performances were received and perceived. Although acknowledged as a powerhouse, Prince Nicolas was pegged as precocious—purely pizzazz. Vexed with more than a vaguely Vegas veneer, some dubbed him “Slick Nic,” a royal pain for the fellow. But, as he grew, so did his talent and sense of individuality. He was spotted earlier this year in a kingdom of songbirds called Birdland. Instead of a witch, there was a Stritch. His name was Billy. He led a band and they all made magic by snapping their fingers.
In other words: singer Nicolas King has really come into his own, now owning songs he once merely borrowed. I’ve watched it happen. Boy Wonder becomingly becomes his own man (mid-20s) while still evoking his predecessors’ panache and polish.
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His immense joy in entertaining remains; he gives his all with focus and fun. Shadows of his role models roll away.
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He tips his hat to them, rather than wearing their second-hand hats. He croons, he swings, he kibitzes. The audience ate it up and it was delicious. With Billy Stritch (piano), Tom Hubbard (bass) and Rick Montalbano (drums), the night’s second set found no dearth of energy or talent. Bravo! More to come And we’ll all live more happily ever after.
