Review: Seal, Colston Hall

And through a fractal on a breaking wall
I see you my friend, and touch your face again – Crazy

Seal has been in the game a long time. His breakout hit Killer stormed the charts way back in 1990 and kick-started a meteoric rise to pop fame. Now, in the autumn of his career, he has followed the path of so many before him and released (another) covers album. Tonight, on the eve of his 55th Birthday, his Standards tour brings an uneasy mixture of timeless swing and acid house to a packed Colston Hall.

In a library quiet hush, the band intro the opening stabs of Sinatra favourite, Luck Be A Lady, and Seal appears, silhouetted in front of a plain backdrop of softly glowing lights. The production is top notch, and that unmistakeable voice glides with ease over a tight band and a slick horn section. It sets the tone, and what follows is half an hour of Rat Pack styled classics; I Put a Spell on You, Gershwin’s  Can’t Take That Away From Me, I’ve Got You Under My Skin and It Was a Very Good Year all show up, delivered with subtlety, confidence and contained passion.

If it rubs shoulders with blandness at times, or if the familiarity of the material engenders boredom, then I guess I can forgive, in the face of a man, and audience who are clearly enjoying themselves a great deal. It feels churlish to hope for some covers that have a bit more grit and the sense of a life lived, from such a remarkable voice, but I can’t help but wonder what he would sound like, blasting through some Gil Scott Heron or some Bobby Womack.

At this point though (after everyone sings him Happy Birthday), the show flips. He shrugs out of his long jacket,  gets his guitar out, and he and his band jump to the 90’s and do an energetic and muscular run through his hits. The crowd wake up too, and it’s no surprise. He is clearly more at ease almost instantly.

I have always liked Seals lyrics, his range and his unique take on soulful pop, and here, he’s a man transformed. Gone are the awkward dance moves, the restrained delivery, and here is an artist in marriage with the best of his material, performing 100% for an audience who are lapping him up. Kiss from a Rose, Future Love Paradise (everyone on their feet for this one) and of course the ravey thump of Adamski’s Killer, during which he jumps into the aisles and has a proper get down with the crowd. Smiles all round.

It’s not all great. Steve Millers’ Fly Like an Eagle was a big hit for Seal in his early days, and it goes down well, but seems oddly laborious and lumpen tonight. Even the forgettable club tosh of Life On the Dance Floor fails to dampen the energy in the room though, so that when he leaves the stage, It’s heart-warming to witness the sustained whooping, and floor stamping that thunders around Colston Hall, and eventually of course brings him back out for the encore. This was never going to be anything else other than Crazy, and its mix of surreal lyricism, 90’s chill out and impassioned singalong still manages to sound nostalgic and forward thinking at the same time. It’s a good way to end the evening, and despite misgivings about the juxtaposing of saccharine swing and club Seal, I can’t begrudge him the goodwill that follows him off the stage.

There is a part of me that always struggles with once-relevant artists slipping into middle age and filing the corners off the edge they once possessed, but perhaps Seal shouldn’t be a target for my preconceptions in that regard tonight. In the introduction to his pin-drop version of My Funny Valentine halfway through his set, he pauses for a second to ask the audience  “Imagine that, if you will; Doing what you love for a living…” Then he laughs, “And who am I to argue with that?”