Still Twinkling, Still Belting From Daily Telegraph, by David Cheal, 16 Jun 2003
David Cheal reviews Shirley Bassey at Wembley Arena
She's 66 years old, and her high-kicking years are clearly behind her, but
Shirley Bassey has a voice that is remarkably untouched by time: not once in
this performance, the last date on a tour celebrating the Welsh singer's 50th
year in showbusiness, did it betray any signs of frailty or wear. From the
opening bars of the opening song, Goldfinger, it rang out loud, rich and clear,
and for the next 100-odd minutes she continued to unleash a stream of big notes
whose force threatened to ruffle the hairstyles of those members of the
predominantly grey and/or gay audience who were sitting towards the front of the
arena.
Dressed in a sparkly (though not ostentatiously so) floor-length gown that was
split to the thigh and also revealed an impressive décolletage, Bassey twinkled
and twirled and flirted with the audience with the practised ease of someone who
has been doing it for - well, for 50 years. In return, the crowd showered her
with gifts and flowers: after almost every song, Bassey paused to come to the
front of the stage to shake hands with a well-wisher or kiss a small child, and
receive another sparkly package or bouquet.
The voice itself is not, it must be said, the most subtle of instruments: given
a song such as Crazy, she showed none of the throwaway world-weariness that
characterised Patsy Cline's version of the Willie Nelson song, but rather
launched into it with all guns blazing. And her jaunty rendition of Hey Jude
made a further case for the introduction of the musical equivalent of the
planning permission laws that would require consent before anyone attempts to
carry out such massive structural alterations. But when she was good, she was
very, very good: Never Never Never was a blaze of glory, History Repeating - her
1998 dance crossover hit with the Propellerheads - was an epic blast of sound,
while on I (Who Have Nothing) she seemed to become completely embroiled in the
drama of what she was singing.
Supported by a proper orchestra - and I couldn't help making a comparison with
Liza Minnelli, who performed with such a cheapskate ensemble at the Albert Hall
last summer - she kept the crowd enthralled and thrilled. And when she made her
final, sweeping, dramatic exit, a glittering golden cape billowing around her,
she left behind not the slightest suggestion that her 50th year in the business
might be her last.