Post by tempfan on Mar 1, 2006 3:33:20 GMT -5
TEMPTS A BLAST FROM THE PAST
By Tiffany Yates
naplesnews.com
It's been nearly a half a century since the Temptations first exploded onto the R&B scene in the glory days of Motown Records with their matching tailored suits and tightly choreographed dance moves, defining an era with megahits like "My Girl" and "Papa Was a Rolling Stone."
There's only one original Temptation still lending his imprimatur to the group on their current tour — founding member Otis Williams, considered the driving force of the long-lived quintet.
But the current lineup of "the Tempts," as they call themselves, boasts a sound that's as velvety smooth as it ever was, harmonies as tight as a drum, and, yes, those signature synchronized dance moves that make them look like male Supremes.
There isn't a weak link in the vocal chain of the five-man group. Three of the members sing first and second tenor, baritone, and lead: G.C. Cameron, Ron Tyson, and baby-faced Terry Weeks. Joe Herndon has a rumbling bass so low, it seems to bubble up out of the earth like lava from a volcano. And Williams travels from the basement to the attic with his range.
Each has a distinctive vocal quality when breaking out of the five-part harmonies and taking lead singing duties, as they all do at various points of the set.
Cameron is a standout, looking like the love child of Smokey Robinson and Lionel Richie, a perma-smile plastered on his face you can't help responding to with one of your own. With a purported five-octave range, he has a full-throated, gravel-coated roar in his deeper register, a Joe Cocker growl that seems too large for his trim frame. But he also soars effortlessly through a creamy tenor and into a falsetto Whitney Houston would envy.
Terry Weeks, at 42 by far the youngest of the current lineup, adds a Jackson 5 flair to his dance moves, crisply snapping out his arms and legs, throwing in a Morris-Day-and-the-Time hip sway here and there. He has a silky middle range, and a falsetto so high and pure it seems only dogs can hear it.
But what's even more fun than the precision of their blended voices, and the Busby Berkeley simultaneity of their choreography, is the upbeat, kinetic energy of the Motown hits they popularized in the Sixties and Seventies.
Try all you want — it's hard to keep your toes still, your head from bobbing, your whole body from swaying when the Tempts break out "The Way You Do the Things You Do" or "Ain't Too Proud to Beg" or "Get Ready."
Despite the ages of most of the members—Williams is on the downside of 60, Tyson 58, and Herndon 57 — the guys get around on the stage, each holding his own nicely in dance moves, though a couple of the members break an alarming sweat by the end of the hour-and-a-half show.
Their distinct personalities show in the way they customize their moves, their banter with one another, and their interactions with the audience — the latter of which are plentiful. The audience is a participant in the Temptations' show to the extent that lights are frequently shined out into the house, and patrons are exhorted often to stand and dance.
Like a quintet of Barry Whites, the Temptations dedicate a number of songs with amusing frequency and a deep, sultry tone "to the ladies," playing the sexy soul-brother card to the hilt. Ron Tyson — "Ty," as the others call him — precedes one song with the promise to make it "real, sensuous and sexy." Cameron asks the men if they'd like a song of their own, urges them to their feet, and then teases, "We're gonna sing this one — to the ladies" before launching into "Treat Her Like a Lady."
They also take time to "pause for a cause," as Tyson says, and unabashedly peddle their wares, like Williams's book about the group that spawned the Emmy-winning 1998 NBC miniseries "The Temptations," and their latest CD, released with new label New Door Records in January of this year, entitled "Reflections," including covers of Supremes, Marvin Gaye and Jackson 5 songs.
The five singers are backed by a top-notch band: a 10-person horn section to create their signature brass sound, two keyboard players, a guitarist, bass player, and a drummer who lets loose on his percussion like the Muppet Show's frenzied Animal.
It's a fairly quick show — 90 minutes, with no intermission or opening act. But the group seems to have decided on that format deliberately, to build the performance into a nonstop, solid block of indefatigable energy.
In their butter-colored suits and tails and the whitest of shiny white shoes, the Temptations are a welcome throwback to the innocent days when a "drive-by" implied the local fast-food joint, and a "hit" meant music like this.