Live music review: Tony Bennett

Bord Gais Energy Theatre

At 88, Tony Bennett is the last of the great crooners and, watching him in action, you almost wish the Beatles, Rolling Stone et al had never come along and hastened his genre’s artistic decline. An era when popular music meant dapper emoters such as Bennett singing their hearts out was surely a golden time indeed.

While the march of the decades has left him shakier, his voice has barely aged at all. Stopping off in Dublin en route to Israel for a concert with Lady Gaga (they are about to release a collection of duets), he was charming and masterful, his extraordinary vocals segueing from melancholy to triumph. Sadness and joy never felt so palpable; Bennett packed a lifetime of feeling into each extravagant quaver.

Backing him was a wonderfully understated jazz band. There is lots of excess in Bennett’s repertoire and with the wrong accompaniment you imagine matters turning a little artery-clogging. Here, the musicians allowed Bennett space to be himself.

He was fascinating to watch. The microphone never stayed in the same place for long. ‘During Maybe This Time’ — a paean to eternal hopefulness from Cabaret — he held it at his midriff and appeared to project his voice downward, as if emoting into a deep well. Sometimes he didn’t require a mic at all: for the encore tilt at ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ he sang without accompaniment, his rich cadences booming through the sell-out venue.

“This place is it,” he said, gesturing around the auditorium as he received an umpteenth standing ovation. “This is the real deal”. Audience members could have said the same about Bennett.