Band Name of the Day

BND BONUS: Pellavision Awards

The Architectural Atrocity Award goes to the Orpheum Theater. It's a beautiful historic facility with ornate plasterwork and a swaggering balcony. However, the classical ambiance was ruined by mammoth speakers depending from the lofty ceiling and a makeshift stage jacked seven feet off the floor by ill-concealed scaffolding. My fourth-row seat had me craning my neck all night, and I couldn't see the dancing feet. Across the street, a new Overture Centre for the Arts is under construction. Let us hope that when it's finished, the Orpheum will be restored to its rightful splendor.
Surprising Hottie: George W. Baldi III in a post-modern, snow-white suit. Can I get an amen? In photos, George looks great. They all do; you just expect that. In person, however, George will make you squirm in your seat. He moves with a sly grace that suggests he knows exactly what you're thinking, and he's thinking the same naughty thing. And the eye contact? Lethal.
Best Bling: John Brown. What he lacks in height, he makes up in accessories.
Virtuoso Award: Scott Leonard. Hearing Scott on a recording is very impressive; he scampers up and down and around the scale like a monkey in the treetops. But you figure he had as many takes as he wanted and expert sound editing to get it right. Then you see him live, looming overhead about 20 feet away, and you realize Holy high notes, Batman, he just did that miraculous riff right in front of me. And another. And another. With one hand in his pocket. While limboing. Suddenly there's no doubt at all why he's the front man.
Albert Peterson Award: Kevin Wright. Albert Peterson was a character in Bye Bye Birdie whose girlfriend Rosie wished he would have been an English teacher. "An English teacher is really someone/how proud I'd be if you had become one," she laments. Rosie would have been proud of Kevin Friday night, as he looked very pedantic in a V-necked sweater over a wing-collared shirt. Class, please open your books to chapter six . . .
Perpetual Motion Prize: Jeff Thacher. I kept an eye on him all night, and he never stopped moving for a second. The facial contortions and hip snaps go with the job of making inorganic sounds with organic equipment. But even on songs where he sat out for a breather, he was always swaying or tapping time. For Jeff, rhythm is life. What makes him intriguing is the sense of profound stillness that inhabits the worlds between the beats.
Don't Know Much About Anatomy Award: Kevin Wright. Dude. We appreciate your effort to change up the tired old zombie eyeball shtick, but the femur/pituitary mumbling has got to go. Stat.
Mr. Congeniality: Jeff Thacher. He was the first Pella I met, because he walked up to me with a hand out and introduced himself. He chatted easily, remarking on my scarf, asking where I was from, etc. Then he wiggled his Sharpie at me — not as dirty as it sounds — and offered to sign anything and everything in my bag. All the guys were gracious, but Jeff seemed even more enthusiastic at the m&g than he had onstage.
Audience Overachievement Award: The opening act's fan club. I don't mind rowdy college students loudly cheering their classmates, but when the yelling is so loud the singers on stage can't hear their starting pitch, it's too loud. Give 'em a break, people.

Runner-up: a service dog belonging to a lady in the front row. It barked loudly during John's "Glow Worm" soft-shoe routine, inspiring much caution during John's later foray into the audience.
Best Smile Lines: Jeff Thacher. In addition to joking with fans after the show, Jeff got Scott good during the performance. Scott had lamented about a slip he made during a morning radio appearance, accidentally referring to the University of Wisconsin as the U of M. ("You've got to flip the M, see, so it makes a W.") Later came a song that ended with a reference to whatever venue they happened to be playing, so Jeff inserted "here at the U of M" as the closer. Scott's expression of "Oh crap, not again!" dismay was so genuine that it prompted Jeff, laughing, to pat him on the shoulder and say, "It's a joke, man."

Runner-up: Kevin Wright, for a brief belly-to-back moment during "Zombie" and for his self-conscious "This is SO not me" grin during his brief vp solo. Apparently that’s as much a joke to the band as it is to the rest of us. "Break it down, white boy," Scott teased.
Best Nose: Scott Leonard. It's straight and narrow, unlike his mind, and the tip bobs up and down as he speaks. Gaze raptly at his profile for a stalkerly long time. You'll see.
Most Likely to Get Voiceover Work: George Baldi. He doesn't just purr that basso rumble into the microphone, he'll make your feet itch standing around on a concrete floor. The college boy singers mobbed George at the m&g trying to soak up some vicarious testosterone.
"Looks Like" Award: John Brown. Remember the Will Smith TV show Fresh Prince of Bel Air? Remember nerdy cousin Carlton? That's who John reminds me of. Ask a dozen people and you'll get a dozen answers, but everybody thinks John looks like somebody else.
Pneumatics Cup: Kevin Wright. He sometimes sounds like a breathy teenage girl, and those gaspy inhalations are as much a part of his songs as the notes he sings. The way he was pressing his lower abdomen during "A Change in My Life," I feared one of the passages was giving him a hernia. But all that air must have been for breath support, because he hit every note cleanly. Woo!
Least Likely to Make an Impression: John Brown. Sorry. He's good, certainly; wouldn't have gotten the job otherwise. Maybe he's still just feeling his way through all the new material. But frankly, I was expecting more stage presence from somebody who has been performing with most of the guys as Swank for as long as he has.
Most Conspicuous By His Absence: Elliott Kerman. This needs saying. Elliott lent the group both a suavity and a sweetness that now are missing. He seemed able to achieve in third gear what the rest of them need overdrive to do, and they're working too hard to make up the difference.
Most Decibels Per Cubic Inch: Scott Leonard. He must weigh all of 67 pounds holding a case of Diet Coke, yet he rattles the rafters. How is that possible?
More Than Meets the Eyes Prize: tie, Jeff and Scott. Jeff clearly inhabits a world inside his own head (and what I wouldn't give for a tour!). Onstage he has a dreamy soft focus that makes you wonder whether he's channeling those strange noises directly from the mother ship. Face to face, however, he zooms in to make you feel like the most interesting person he's met all day.

And I'd forgotten the ease with which Scott works a room. Normally I hate it when singers spend too much time talking. (Yes, that was me muttering "Shut up and sing!" any time one of the Redefined kids started yapping.) But Scott's between-song banter is actually smart and funny. When he remarked, "This is turning into a stand-up show. We should sing," I was almost disappointed.
Rising Stock Award: Kevin Wright. Strong and steady (when he's not wandering off looking for girls), he's got a little bit of Elliott's understated appeal. I was more impressed with Kevin than I expected to be. That's a pleasure.
Unsinging/Unsung Heroes: Phil Gulotta and Fred Shulman, of course. Thanks to their road manager and sound man, the band looked at ease and sounded outstanding. There would be a lot less rock to the Pella without Phil & Fred.