WHY LEON BRIDGES shot from obscurity in Fort Worth, Texas to worldwide fame in such a short time—aside from his smooth-as-butter voice—was in large part because he had a level of sincerity and humility not often seen in modern R&B. He was a soft-spoken mama’s boy who just-so-happened to possess a voice that could make you break out into a cold sweat.
But somewhere between his visits to Portland last year and now, somebody must have convinced Bridges to beef up the showmanship. Where in earlier concerts he had never seemed fully comfortable with being a frontman—often standing behind the mic and mumbling his way through scripted stage banter—now, onstage at the venerable Schnitz, Bridges slinked, hopped, and bopped across the stage, pumped his hips awkwardly, did the running man, and let out few unprecedented yawps.
He and his impossibly-tight backing band filled the setlist with plenty of new material, which sees them heading more toward a '50s and '60s rock-and-roll sound, from back when rock-and-roll and rhythm-and-blues were synonymous. While not exactly brand-new, “Daisy Mae” remains the highlight of recent material, though other new songs like “Mississippi Kisses,” and “There She Goes” hint that Bridges’s best material might still be ahead of him.
Nevertheless, Bridges, no matter how hard he tried, didn’t seem completely at ease up on that grand stage—his banter was stunted, he seemed uncertain of himself, and even his dance moves looked at times like a cross between Jackie Wilson and Pee-Wee Herman. It doesn’t help that the Schnitz isn’t exactly the easiest place to get down and let loose. The sold-out crowd also seemed unsure whether to dance, stand, or sit in their comfy chairs, so they did a little bit of everything. But nothing else matters when Bridges sings, because, lord have mercy, that voice.
LEON BRIDGES
SOLO WOODS
