Joey Arias would like your attention, and he's not afraid to ask for it.
In fact, on a dozen or so occasions during his performance of
Joey Arias IS WITH YOU NOW at Joe's Pub on October 9---the second in his three-show residency---he straight-up demanded the crowd's attention, shouting, "Look at me!"
Looking like a classic Hollywood diva in an obsidian ensemble as he took the stage, Arias was as visually commanding as he was verbally, sporting a cape and a veil, as well as garters he showed off a handful of times. Like a vocal theremin, his singing sounded more onomatopoeic than lyric as he kicked off the show, cooing the words to Cream's "White Room" (
Jack Bruce). Nobody knows that better than Arias, who, after one absurdly high-pitched note, remarked, "That's my voice."
And what a voice it is. He gave off strong
Tony Bennett vibes on the folk classic "House of the Rising Sun," if Bennett could also contort his voice to sound like a punk-rock baby (with a finely-honed ear, of course). As the song approached its conclusion, Arias let out a high-pitched wail.
The show's namesake, an original song called "With You Now" (
Ben Allison/Arias) performed in the middle of the show, displayed more vocal range than the covers, as he set his bag of tricks aside to belt out the moody track.
"Have you ever heard anyone like me before?" As the audience member Arias posed the question to responded, the answer is, simply, "No." He spent nearly as much time off stage as on, schmoozing with---and smooching---people in the theater, forcing them to play the straight man in his wicked little comedy routine.
Arias was joined by musical director
Ben Allison on bass, both Steve Cardenas and Brandon Seabrook on guitar, as well as Allan Mednard on drums. Despite a member of the band introducing the performance as a "debate-free zone" (with the second presidential debate airing the same night), Arias refused to play by those rules. But he'd have been better off leaving Trump's name out of his mouth together, as the cognitive dissonance between slamming the man's highly-publicized comments about women and using them as a punchline of his own can leave a bad taste in one's mouth. To that end, Arias was at his best when he skipped the fart jokes and sexual innuendos and let his one-of-a-kind singing voice do the speaking.
There was one exception: He pulled off a stellar
Billie Holiday impression with his take on "God Bless the Child" (Holiday,
Arthur Herzog, Jr.). The patter during the number was as funny as the vocal impersonation was precise, with Arias at one point hilariously mumbling, "I hope you like this 'cause I'm 101 years old now."
The only time he was ever in true danger of being upstaged was when he made a star of a child whose innocent ears probably shouldn't have been anywhere near that room. Joking that there's always one youngster in every audience, Arias stalked around the theater in his Christian Louboutin heels. When he spot
Ted Christopher, a small boy sitting near the back who couldn't have been a day over 12, he insisted on bringing him up on stage for a duet on "Why Don't You Do Right?" (Kansas
Joe McCoy).
Following a bit of call and response, having the boy repeat lyrics like, "Get out of here and get me some money, too," Arias asked him to improvise some words. After sweetly asking what improvisation is, Christopher obliged. While adorably awkward at first, he quickly found his comfort zone, spitting out a story about taking some money down to the bank and depositing it in his savings account, resulting in thunderous laughter and applause from the crowd.
That wasn't the only surprise from the audience, however.
Closing out the show with a cover of The Ronettes' "Be My Baby" (
Phil Spector/
Jeff Barry/
Ellie Greenwich), referring to Spector, Arias rasped, "This song was written by a bad man." Yet that didn't stop him from crooning, stepping offstage once again as he did, snaking through the crowd and shoving the mic in the faces of unsuspecting audience members.
But unlike some of the often cringe-worthy banter in which Arias seemed to delight, there was nothing awkward about it. Not one, not two, but at least four or five of the chosen had voices that, at the very least, would make them an asset on karaoke night.
At times, even Arias seemed a bit surprised by the talent in his audience. But the veteran performer was unshakable, taking back the mic and forcing to crowd to look at him once again. "Musicianship is alive and kicking ass here," he said near the end of the show.
And with Arias's performance, it certainly was.
