And so it passed that we happened to be at the National Indoor Arena in Birmingham last night for the Funhouse Tour, a two-hour sensory assault of inflatable clowns, circus freaks and Jack-in-a-Boxes, lead by the one and only P!nk. We were never enormous fans of Ms. Moore before last year, when we were given the masterpiece that is "So What" and so the opportunity to delve properly into her back catologue for further audiogasmic nuggets (which of there were plenty). Then came
Funhouse, which while a grower at first, is truly a fantastic album; every song, while not an immediate head rush along the lines of the debut track, there is genuine emotion and passion in every track which is more then effectively translated into live performance.
From seeing videos on YouTube and tours on 4Music etc., we were more then aware of P!nk's dramatic stage presence and boundless charisma, however we were
not prepared for the enormous step-up in production values from the last tour to this. The I'm Not Dead Tour in 2007 was an excellent show and demonstrated P!nk's prowess as an entertainer but it seems she was handed a great deal bigger whack of money with the Funhouse Tour, and it truly shows. From song to song, section to section, we noticed something new every time, be it lights, dancers, video screens (very well done may I add); the stage was awash with kineticity and there was always something to transfix you. The world's biggest lesbian-but-not made a glorious entrance as a Jack-in-a-Box, after a clown-dancer came out in Girlie Show fashion and wound the box up. The screams of Birmingham's homosexual female population could be heard miles around. We must admit, when we first saw photos of the costumes, they did look a little on the tacky side of gaudy, but in person they err definitely more to the fabulous side.
Highlights were her channelling of Freddy Mercury for a surprisingly good version of "Bohemian Rhapsody", the ultra-erotic cover of "I Touch Myself" featuring ACTUAL HANDS TOUCHING HER PRIVATE PARTS (the air was thick with lady moisture), and of course the
breathtaking trapeze work. I have never seen such a mainstream performer take part in such exciting and amazing stagework. Considering P!nk didn't enter the business as a dancer, she can sure "bust a move" with the best of them, and her abs have to be seen to be believed. There was definitely more than an air of Madonna about the show (groan, we know), and not just because both shows shared dancers, but it's expected for the pop princesses of today to take regular inspiration from the Queen. A small disappointment was the lack of
Can't Take Me Home material, but in all honesty it likely would have stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of Max Martin/Linda Perry guitar heavy music that P!nk does best. I think any show that does giant blow-up clowns and makes it work should be commended.
I can't write this and not mention the finale. After the token closing song "Get the Party Started", the stage went black and an aerial cluster of three of her female dancers rose in the air, carrying an ethereal looking P!nk, in stark constrast to the punked up, energetic singer we had seen just a song earlier, in a nipple-pink sheath of silk. As she belted out "Glitter in the Air", the dancers sprinkled glitter over her (again, she managed to do this cheesy-as-it-sounds act extremely well without an air of corn) before sending her back into the Jack-in-the-Box at the end of the catwalk (where we were standing two people from the bar, you know). Personally, we assumed she'd stay in there and the show would end. No, bitch comes back out of the box, SOAKING WET. Clearly she'd been dipped in a bath of water or something, because she was literally drenched from head to toe, and as the dancers spun her in the air, the crowd was eagerly sprayed with eau de P!nk. It's safe to say not a soul in the house went home any less then satisfied.
Speaking of Madonna, a direct message please. P!nk managed to put on one of the best shows ever in the history of pop for a ticket price of £32. HINT THE FUCK HINT.
And so it passed that we happened to be at the National Indoor Arena in Birmingham last night for the Funhouse Tour, a two-hour sensory assault of inflatable clowns, circus freaks and Jack-in-a-Boxes, lead by the one and only P!nk. We were never enormous fans of Ms. Moore before last year, when we were given the masterpiece that is "So What" and so the opportunity to delve properly into her back catologue for further audiogasmic nuggets (which of there were plenty). Then came Funhouse, which while a grower at first, is truly a fantastic album; every song, while not an immediate head rush along the lines of the debut track, there is genuine emotion and passion in every track which is more then effectively translated into live performance.
From seeing videos on YouTube and tours on 4Music etc., we were more then aware of P!nk's dramatic stage presence and boundless charisma, however we were not prepared for the enormous step-up in production values from the last tour to this. The I'm Not Dead Tour in 2007 was an excellent show and demonstrated P!nk's prowess as an entertainer but it seems she was handed a great deal bigger whack of money with the Funhouse Tour, and it truly shows. From song to song, section to section, we noticed something new every time, be it lights, dancers, video screens (very well done may I add); the stage was awash with kineticity and there was always something to transfix you. The world's biggest lesbian-but-not made a glorious entrance as a Jack-in-a-Box, after a clown-dancer came out in Girlie Show fashion and wound the box up. The screams of Birmingham's homosexual female population could be heard miles around. We must admit, when we first saw photos of the costumes, they did look a little on the tacky side of gaudy, but in person they err definitely more to the fabulous side.
Highlights were her channelling of Freddy Mercury for a surprisingly good version of "Bohemian Rhapsody", the ultra-erotic cover of "I Touch Myself" featuring ACTUAL HANDS TOUCHING HER PRIVATE PARTS (the air was thick with lady moisture), and of course the breathtaking trapeze work. I have never seen such a mainstream performer take part in such exciting and amazing stagework. Considering P!nk didn't enter the business as a dancer, she can sure "bust a move" with the best of them, and her abs have to be seen to be believed. There was definitely more than an air of Madonna about the show (groan, we know), and not just because both shows shared dancers, but it's expected for the pop princesses of today to take regular inspiration from the Queen. A small disappointment was the lack of Can't Take Me Home material, but in all honesty it likely would have stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of Max Martin/Linda Perry guitar heavy music that P!nk does best. I think any show that does giant blow-up clowns and makes it work should be commended.
I can't write this and not mention the finale. After the token closing song "Get the Party Started", the stage went black and an aerial cluster of three of her female dancers rose in the air, carrying an ethereal looking P!nk, in stark constrast to the punked up, energetic singer we had seen just a song earlier, in a nipple-pink sheath of silk. As she belted out "Glitter in the Air", the dancers sprinkled glitter over her (again, she managed to do this cheesy-as-it-sounds act extremely well without an air of corn) before sending her back into the Jack-in-the-Box at the end of the catwalk (where we were standing two people from the bar, you know). Personally, we assumed she'd stay in there and the show would end. No, bitch comes back out of the box, SOAKING WET. Clearly she'd been dipped in a bath of water or something, because she was literally drenched from head to toe, and as the dancers spun her in the air, the crowd was eagerly sprayed with eau de P!nk. It's safe to say not a soul in the house went home any less then satisfied.
Speaking of Madonna, a direct message please. P!nk managed to put on one of the best shows ever in the history of pop for a ticket price of £32. HINT THE FUCK HINT.
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