Playing Against His Strengths

Somebody should remind Leon Russell that there’s more than one color in the rainbow.

With his gritty, quavery vocals and dazzling piano rolls, Russell’s distinctive body of work has roamed from style to style, including gospel, funk, rock, blues, country and pop ballads. Free from production excesses, an organic, sometimes spiritual quality resides in his most memorable 1970s-era numbers, including “Song to You,” “Delta Lady,” “Stranger in a Strange Land,” “Hummingbird,” “She Smiles Like a River” and “Of Thee I Sing.”

But the 57-year-old songwriter continually played against these strengths in an ill-conceived, unsatisfactory concert Friday evening at the Coach House in San Juan Capistrano. Sacrificing subtlety and grace, the Oklahoma-born, Tennessee-based piano man and his three-piece band cranked up the volume and then raced through a blur of turbocharged selections as if curfew were approaching.

What was the rush, guys?

The omnipresent rock ‘n’ roll of Russell, guitarist John Giles, bassist Jack Wessel and drummer Teddy Jack--Russell’s 21-year-old son--did bring a welcome charge to a few up-tempo songs, including the standard “Sixteen Tons,” a faithful cover of the Rolling Stones’ “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” and a rollicking “Roll in My Sweet Baby’s Arms.”

But those rewarding moments were the exception. There was far too little variety, and material calling for a lighter touch was simply overpowered by the quartet’s sledgehammer delivery. Pitted against an over-amped guitar-and-rhythm section, Russell’s vocals were buried during the usually soulful “Blue Lady” and country nugget “Legend in My Time.”

Uncovering the emotional core of songs proved as elusive when Russell and his son slowed the pace for a pair of duets. Russell, relying on the synthesizer-heavy sounds of his programmable keyboards, turned two of his biggest hits--”Song for You” and “This Masquerade”--into something slick, sterile and anonymous-sounding.

Throughout the show, I longed to hear some of Russell’s classic New Orleans-style piano rolls, an unadorned love song or any of his scorching gospel numbers, where the warm glow touches your insides--in other words, something pure and played from the heart.

It didn’t happen. And making matters worse was Russell’s distant stage presence. Granted, the man is shy and reclusive, and fans have come to accept, perhaps even embrace, his aloof persona. (He refused to permit photographs during the gig.)

Still, is it asking too much to engage your audience with a little dialogue, to acknowledge their presence with more than an occasional “thank you”?

But after a crowd-pleasing romp through “Kansas City,” the 90-minute concert ended abruptly when Russell and his band quickly exited the stage. The house lights came on immediately as recorded music blared through the speakers.

Encore? Forget about it.

*

By contrast, there was no shortage of personality from the opening act, Scottie “B.” Solidly backed by the “C” Men--percussionist Tim Sullivan and bassist Bill Stegal--the Fullerton-based singer, songwriter and guitarist charmed a receptive audience with a lively, self-deprecating set of “love songs for the sick and twisted.”

On one hand, with such silly offerings as “Mambo Pie,” “Hunky BoBo” and “Big Dog Wood,” it’s easy to dismiss “B” (real name: Scottie Bonsangue) as a frivolous novelty act. Yet he paddles in deeper emotional waters, whether trying to learn from his personal shortcomings (“Fictional Relationship [With a Lesbian Girl]”) or rejoicing in the discovery of the perfect woman (“Low Maintenance Mo”).

“B” recalls the neurotic, lonesome loser of the “Play It Again, Sam”-era Woody Allen. One line from another tune, the calypso-flavored “Caribbean,” perfectly captures the complexities of romantic entanglements: “I can’t wait for you to come back . . . and leave.”