Rheinischer Merkur - November 22, 1996
by Hilde Malcomess translation by Astrid Nolde-Gallasch Chris de Burgh / Nobody loves him like the Germans do - now the Irish man is on tour againBIG FEELINGS, FAR BEACHES
For more than 10 years he is one of the bigger ones in rock business: The bard of the green island sings about love Oh, he shouldn't have done it! Why did the Irish "charmeur" surround himself with the "four beautiful girls"? Absolutely unnecessary, this squeeking string quartet, that accompanied Chris de Burgh in the second half of his until then fulminant concert. At the prelude to his tour in Stuttgart, it has been a string orchestra, which opened up a comfortable sound carpet for the songs of his current album "Beautiful Dreams" (1995) to the romantic bard. At the second evening of the German tour in Mannheim a solistic casting had to be enough: four young ladies, well lined-up in the background and enormously nervous. The graces didn't cope with the full-sounding voice, the guitar and the voluminous grand piano of de Burgh. Therefore the 2000 fans heard most of the times only the first violin, when it stood out apparently abruptly howling from the bassy sound with its high notes. Chris de Burgh's fad to make his soft songs even softer by the jubilation of violins, is - orchestra or no - however an average musical disaster. Oh how beautiful earthy songs the meanwhile 47 year old has written: the fabulous "Spanish Train", which he - all alone on stage - sang, declaimed, cood, cried to a gruff play on the guitar. "Transmission ends", a soft but however powerful blues piece, which reminds of Donovan and in which de Burgh's great voice plays little caprioles: Because while he operates his instruments only averagely virtuos, his vocal chords are his capital. They go wildering in rough depths, they laze in the medium part flattering, round and cosy. Cheeky and peppy the tones jump high and the Irish man plays with his head voice, setting accents sometimes expressively, sometimes ironically: "Aaah, uuuh, ah", longly pulled vowels are skipping through the hall, hopping playfully up and down. The pop singer, song writer and composer published fifteen albums since 1975. He sold 35 millions of them. Especially the Germans love the ballads of the son of a diplomat - and he loves us: he drives a BMW, eats sauerkraut with mashed potatoes, drinks, apart from Guinness, German wine as well, and likes to relax in the Black Forest. Only in his songs he is less native. There the nice star sings about far beaches, blazing hearts and ever again about water: as a symbol for big feelings, as a threshold to other worlds, as a place for mystical meetings - "Out on the water it's another world". In his poems there are castles far away from the world, "... an ancient fortress, high above the worries of the world", mysterious cathedrals, nightly bells, ghostly figures like the ferryman and of course "love forever". All alone the gracefully black haired comes on stage in the cone of light. Black Jeans, black-and-white shirt. He waves, laughs, waves again, turns his head and shrugs his shoulders, as if he wants to say: "It's only me, your Chris." No synthesizer, no drummer, no saxophone, no choir. The fans between sixteen and sixty welcome him yelling enthusiastically. Only him, practising himself in more than thousand appearances, accompanying himself on the guitar or diffusing the sweet message at the piano: "Here is your paradise" is the name of the first title of the evening, a beautiful, emotional song and everybody may believe: He means me. And right away he plays a faster, more powerful version of "Sailing away" - only with guitar of course. "Shine on", a female voice is yelling in the simmering hall. He grins with a sweet, disarming smile and plays the wished song on the piano: "We shine on, you and me tonight, way across the universe, burning like a fire in the night." You have to give yourself to the gentle harmonies, round melodies, the flattering voice. Who presses himself critically against allegedly schmaltzy songs, can only smile at de Burgh and his fans. "It's the classical dilemma between the head and the heart", he breathes later in a refrain and hits the point. Especially in the eighties millions decided for the heart: The albums "The getaway", "High on emotion" and "Into the light" blocked the charts for months. The declaration of love "Lady in red" - only a heartless person calls this song a sobby piece - accompanied the erotically longing of a whole generation. If he succeds in doing that with one of the songs of the "Beautiful Dreams"-CD, which are wrapped into soft and cuddly string sounds? He changes himself to a real rocker when he plays old hits like "Ferryman", "High on emotion", "Traveller". There he trashes the chords off the strings, rhythmically pointed and he yells into the microphone with a scratchy voice. We nearly forgot how much power this man has. After 2 1/2 hours, when still nobody wants to go, the fans, men equally as women, dance lost in thought in front of the stage and on the balconies, he strikes up the Beatles classic "Hey Jude". And while the hall sings unrestrained and overjoyed, he retires quietly, and lets us arousingly finish the song in front of the empty stage.