http://www.thestar.com/NASApp/cs/Con...l=969483191630
Bon Jovi does love the camera
20,000 pumped up to see the man
What worked in '80s works today
BEN RAYNER
POP MUSIC CRITIC
Bon Jovi are children of the TV and the PA system.
There's never been a pretense to anything but populism where Jon Bon Jovi and New Jersey's most durable export since the E-Street Band are concerned, and it's just as well: There's no way a band could get away with anthemic arena-rock hoo-hah this corny and one-dimensional for 20 consistently successful years if it didn't so obviously groom itself for the camera and the biggest stages the world has to offer.
One must, in all fairness, offer a tip of the hat to Bon Jovi for still packing 20,000 delirious fans — mostly female, judging by the pitch of the constant shrieking, but also boasting strong representation from guys in tucked-in work shirts dancing stiffly in their Casual Friday jeans — into the Air Canada Centre when most of the band's '80s contemporaries and '70s ancestors (Journey = Bon Jovi) are lucky these days to get a gig at the Hard Rock Café.
No bellyaching about the agony of fame from our boy Jon. The enormous gang choruses of signature Bon Jovi hits such as "You Give Love A Bad Name," "Livin' On A Prayer" and "Runaway" were absolutely meant to be bellowed back at the stage by thousands of fist-pumping devotees. "Raise Your Hands" was never a command meant to be issued to 45 friends, hangers-on and career alcoholics in some Asbury Park rathole.
The band's "comeback" hit, "It's My Life," sounds exactly like 1986's "Livin' On A Prayer" ("It's a wonder he doesn't mix up the words, really," observed my companion) precisely because Bon Jovi wanted a comeback hit in 2000. And why else does Richie Sambora's Wild West intro to "Wanted (Dead Or Alive)" exist other than to give the sturdy sideman a chance to strut out into the emerald laser lights and soak up a little ample-cleavaged adoration of his own while the hunky lead singer mops his brow and strikes a thoughtful pose in the shadows by the drumkit?
No, Bon Jovi has always been upfront about its pursuit of superstardom. The music, on the other hand, is a matter of taste, and if you didn't like it when Slippery When Wet was first unleashed on the planet, you certainly won't like it now:
"It's like 1986 all over again," Jon remarked at one point. He was referring to the giddy crowd reaction, but he might have been talking about the set list. There's absolutely nothing, save the level of crowd familiarity, to distinguish boomingly obvious new tunes like "Bounce" and "Misunderstood" from anything Bon Jovi's done before.
It's just too bad the band has convinced so many millions of people that such an intensely choreographed, professionally executed entertainment spectacle as last night is any more "rock 'n' roll" than a Neil Diamond performance or a night out at The Lion King. "Spontaneity" during a Bon Jovi show means letting the crowd occasionally take the high notes Jon can't always hit quite on the nose any more. This is a band, after all, whose lead singer has obviously practised cocking his eyebrow askance at just the right camera when he finishes a song. That "Aw, shucks" look at all the applause would seem more authentic, Jon, if it weren't being projected on three 30-foot-high screens behind you.
Bon Jovi does love the camera
