
“Weird Al” was a live wire. I found my eyes flitting around to follow his every move, like I was a freaking cat watching a laser pointer. Not only did he do costume changes nearly every song, but his whole band played along by switching get-ups too, with enough change-ups to wonder if backstage looked like a teen girl’s bedroom with cast-off garments covering every surface. The man even did costume changes mid-medley – some of the most indulgent sing-along swirls that generated massive applause blipping through hits like “Gump,” “Inactive,”I Love Rocky Road” and “Like a Surgeon.” But while the songs obviously swelled hearts (it sincerely felt like he played every song in his catalog in only two hours) and the lights, costumes, props and guest stars (like Darth Vader!) obviously widened eyes – the main spectacle, of course, was “Weird Al” himself.

Any time “Weird Al” needed a break, he had video cued up to allow for it, so the show was seamless. The reel pulled in his music videos, but also clips from Al TV and probably every pop culture reference to “Weird Al” from his random cameos on shows like My Little Pony to endless name-drops on hit shows like Scandal and New Girl. It’s what you’d expect to flash before the eyes of “Weird Al” before he dies – except by now his influence is nearly as pervasive as the culture his songs mock, so he’s basically immortal.

Which led me to seriously ponder: Is there a more versatile and gripping frontman than “Weird Al”? He never stumbled while switching between rock, pop, hip-hop and, of course, polka, and you’d know instantly if he did, because you can’t take your eyes off him – that wild hair catching the light while being whipped around by the wind machine was as entertaining as his “Perform This Way” octopus suit. His delivery felt flawless. Every move felt deliberate and hit your funny bone hard. So even though he’s definitely still predominantly “Weird,” I walked away feeling more in wonder at this marvel, a genius wordsmith, shrewdly wicked observer and, in my experience, pretty peerless entertainer.

This article appears in Aug 12-18, 2015.
