My Shoes Are On Top of the World

Brought to you by a cappella innovators the Bobs.

The Bobs recorded their first (eponymous) album in 1984, and I've been an on-again/off-again fan since 1987 — half my lifetime, for those keeping track at home. So you'd think they'd be better performers by now. I don't mean to imply that the Bobs suck, because they don't. The singing is swell. I enjoyed the show. But in my own personal ideal world, they'd do a few things differently.

For instance:

1. Use their space. I'd like to see them move about the stage more. The Bobs just stand there for the most part. The Flying Karamazov Brothers, their co-entertainers for the evening, had outlined an octagon about 10 feet across on the stage floor to mark places for their set, and the Bobs stayed inside it. Four static, dark-clothed people on a mostly bare black stage: not exciting.

I think I remember reading somewhere that they usually camp it up in lounge lizard-wear for their live shows, so maybe they were sartorially low-key that night to match the FKB, who had a legitimate reason for their all-black attire (contrast with their white juggling clubs). Amy Bob donned a champagne-colored gown during intermission, so at least she was more visible during Act II.

2. Notice us. The Bobs sometimes seem to forget that there are other people present. They spend plenty of time amusing themselves and each other while the audience waits for them the shut up and sing, but if you're not already in on the joke, it's time to break out your knitting. And this is a band that recorded an entire album titled Shut Up and Sing (1993), anchored by a song detailing this very complaint.

3. Dumb it down a bit. Never thought you'd hear me say that, did you? The Bobs expect you to keep up with their murmured cleverness, and to be as impressed with it as they are themselves. They're those nerdy kids from high school who sneered over their hornrims at you for not knowing the latest SCTV catchphrase. They seem to have missed the part about brevity being the soul of wit and carry jokes far past their funniness thresholds. (See also: Da Vinci's Notebook.)

Now, the Bobs are wicked smart; you can't observe their teleprompter-assisted opera medley or the contrapuntal Bach motet without noticing that they've got some serious music chops. As a huge nerd myself, I admire the Bobs for embracing their nerdity and displaying it proudly. But excessive cleverness is not always excessively entertaining; just ask Dennis Miller, if you can find him.

4. Throw me a musical bone. The Bobs don't always sound pretty. Nor are they obliged to; we've got a thousand other a cappella groups to turn to for pretty. They're less interested in the blend than in the creative arranging of the music. Their four disparate voices, three men and a woman, are easy to differentiate pretty much all the time, even when they're making chords. (Amy Bob and Matthew Bob are sometimes too willing to rely on screeching to achieve interesting high-end effects.)

Again, I applaud their willingness to be experimental. I wouldn't want the only New Wave a cappella band, as they bill themselves, to drop that part of their persona. But I would appreciate something a little easier to listen to sometimes. I'm not implying that the world needs yet another arrangement of "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" — please, let that cat rest in peace! — I just have a soft spot for traditional four-part harmony. That's a "me" problem, not a "them" problem.

5. Introduce themselves. I appreciate that little bit of connection that comes with the sharing of names and wish the Bobs would take a moment to tell us who they are. Not their lives' stories, just a quick who's who. I only know their names because they're all called Bob. Oh, and I've read their web site (www.bobs.com), where Amy Bob brings a great deal of personality to the scene with her Bob Tales travelogues.

All right, enough kvetching. It probably sounds like I'm sorry I went to the show, and I'm not. They did several things I quite enjoyed. The first was to sing one of my all-time favorites, "My, I'm Large" (from the 1987 album of the same name, which also includes the song titled "My Shoes," from which comes today's band name). It's about the weird tricks the mind plays just as you're about to fall asleep. It's not clever, just interesting. And a little creepy.

A truly cool thing they did was to have Dan Bob, the newest, tallest, and most interesting member of the group, sample and loop a four-track vocal percussion part right there on stage. They then sang along to it with Dan Bob freed up for the low tenor/baritone part. Nice use of technology, and they only did it once. Plus Dan Bob is lanky and cute and has cotton candy hair, so I like him.

Overall grade: B for the Bobs

Today around the world: May 12 is International Nurses Day and International Midwives Day.