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Concert Review: Wayne Newton at The Birchmere

By Kyle Osborne

His hair is still black as crude oil, the fabled Golden Microphone in his hand still shines brightly, reflecting the spotlight’s rays to the back of the house, and as he makes his way from the dressing room to the place he feels most at home, Wayne Newton is all smiles. As the soundman triggers the pre-recorded introduction (over the theme from 2001: A Space Odyssey) the crowd comes alive.

“Ladieeeees and Gentlmen (tympani roll) ‘Mr. Excitement’…..’The Midnight idol’…The Legend’…

Waaaayne Newtoooon”

And the dozen tuxedo clad members of the band hit that familiar “play-on” tune—“Dunit-Duh, Dunit-Duuuh, Dunit-Duhm,  Dunit Duuh.”  Newton hasn’t sung a single note yet, but the audience has already been fully immersed in “Showbiz.” It’s as close as you can get to a Las Vegas showroom in Alexandria, Virginia.

On this night at The Birchmere, the venerable venue which Newton keeps calling, with complete admiration, a “Nightclub,” audience members are seeing the last living link to a bygone era. The celebrated “Rat Pack” of the early 60’s included Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis, Jr., all men who grew up in the Vaudeville era, and who still carried those influences with them to the casino stage. A young upstart became a frequent guest of theirs– so young he was almost a novelty act, but Wayne Newton was the heir apparent, and by the time he was handed the baton by the aging legends, only Elvis and an older Sinatra were his competition.

Wayne Newton became a Vegas tourist attraction. You didn’t visit Paris without seeing the Eiffel Tower or Arizona without seeing the Grand Canyon, and you didn’t go to Vegas without seeing (or trying to see) the man at The Stardust who put on the best show in town. A show whose direct roots to Vaudeville were evident in every joke told, every song sung.

Right now, Newton has the Alexandria crowd in the palm of his hands, starting off with a medley of “C.C. Rider” and “Viva Las Vegas.” At 71, Newton looks relatively fit in his full tux with a red rose in the lapel of his jacket.  His moves are agile and his energy high. His voice, however, bears the scars of a performer who has sung six nights a week for half a century. He can still hit most of the notes, but the easy glide to the high notes has been replaced by a man actually working to get there, the problem isn’t so much pitch as it is power. Even his speaking voice has a rasp that betrays his face.

But does anyone notice or care? Hardly, the closest seats appear to be filled by “Wayne-iacs,” women of a certain age who steal disturbingly long kisses from the charmer, and who pass him handkerchiefs, with which he wipes his brow and returns to these fans who have traveled back in time for the evening.

For Newton, the show gives him the chance to travel back, too. A screen is brought out onstage, and Mr. Entertainer shows some rare and enjoyable clips from his career. There’s a kind of wistfulness to his introductions. A clip from The Lucy Show (not the older ‘I Love Lucy) shows a fresh faced Wayne, singing “Bessie The Heifer.” Watching the elegant Lucille Ball, herself a “mature” woman at the time, is a treat. Then Newton introduces a clip of himself singing a duet with Dean Martin. “You’ll notice that Dean looks to his left and to his right, but almost never at me. That’s because he was looking where the cue cards were,” says Newton as the crowd knowingly laughs. Sure enough, not only is Dean looking at the cards, he actually takes drags off his cigarette when Newton his singing his lines—it’s a hilariously dated move that draws even more laughter. Next is a duet with Sammy, a photo with old Blue Eyes, and it takes a moment before we realize that there’s been more talking than singing.

Again, that is a nod to Vegas showbiz. This isn’t Carnegie Hall, it’s “adult entertainment,” which means that Newton says, “Pardon my French” after uttering the word “crap.” As in, “Folks, please excuse my French, but most of what you see on television these days is just crap.” And the audience roars.

Even the rim-shots that the drummer dutifully pops out are a throwback to the old days of entertainment.  “Hey, if it lasts four hours, I’m not calling my doctor, I’m calling the newspaper!”

Badum-Bop.

Yes, the show is corny and dated, and yet it feels somehow important to witness this fading form. An old band member who left decades ago is asked to stand up and take a bow, birthday greetings are delivered from the stage, written on pink 3x5cards. And of course, no show like this would be complete without asking all the veterans, from all the wars, to stand up and take a bow. As the house lights come up, it’s actually moving to see how many men from different generations are in the house. A lot more moving than the “American Trilogy” ends up being, with its schmaltz arrangement of old patriotic songs.

Tomorrow night, the good people of Syracuse, New York will get their chance to visit this living, traveling museum.  They’ll see a man who can play many instruments, though you wouldn’t call him a musician. They’ll see a man who has sung on a self-counted 165 albums (his big single “Danke Schoen” was on the charts 50 years ago)but you wouldn’t call him a singer. He’ll tell jokes all night long, but he isn’t a comedian.

No, the thing that describes Wayne Newton is a word you’ll rarely hear anymore—it’s the thing that might go away with Mr. Newton himself—Wayne Newton is an Entertainer. A one-man variety show that has gone the way of rotary phones and gigantic Cadillacs and, well, TV variety shows. That rare blend of schtick and showmanship that young people watch “ironically,” as they would say.

So, as we say a misty goodbye to Mr. Vegas, he bids us farewell with his most “heartfelt” adios:

“Ladies and gentlemen, I cannot promise you that I will love you for the rest of your life (dramatic pause) but I can promise you that I will love you for the rest of mine. “

Dunit-duh, dunit-duuuhhh

“Goodnight Everybody!”

Dunit-Duhhh, Dun-it duhhh.

View Slideshow Photos of Wayne Newton at The Birchmere

Hear The Original Recording of ‘Danke Schoen’

One thought on “Concert Review: Wayne Newton at The Birchmere

  1. Ric

    is s easy for most to forget what an Entertainer IS! But your fine snapshot here will flash those of us back to when we last saw an entertainer and will give glimpse of just how timeless and skilled these vaudeville guys were and are! Nicely done KO!

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