Mandy Moore – House of Blues, Los Angeles, CA – 08/23/2007
Posted by Morgan Marx on 09.06.2007
A genuine movie star makes a bid for indie credibility
It’s no secret that stargazing is one of the favored past times for citizens of Los Angeles. Granted, you have a better chance of being blindsided by an intoxicated, SUV driving Lindsay Lohan than seeing any part of Orion’s belt in the skies over LA, but it can be cool to wander across a famous actor outside a café. Or at least Vince Vaughn. However, you become normalized to these random encounters soon after relocating. Eventually you develop a disinterested gaze, coolly ignoring the wannabe starlet flocked by pre-tweens in line at Pinkberry on a mid-week night. It doesn’t even phase you.
Still, getting a chance at seeing a genuine star in person can still be thrilling. And while indie rock boasts a number of bandleaders who play the part of “rock stars,” neither Karen O nor Kevin Barnes can claim one-tenth the Q rating of Ms. Mandy Moore. The one-time teeny bopper and current A list actress found herself playing a set of stripped down rock on a semi-cool late summer evening, inches off the Sunset Strip. This was the Serious Mandy Moore, the one who guest stared on Scrubs and stole the show in Saved. Gone are the days of over-produced, sugary, Disney-styled pop, replaced by a soulful, almost folky woman. Moore, still ridiculously young, is seeking a reinvention of sorts. She was always more mature than some of her peers (re: Spears, Britney) and is now looking to cash in on that sense of credibility.
Her set was fascinating to watch. Flanked by a set of session pros, Moore played a series of nice, melodic rock. You don’t have to be a critic to realize Moore’s voice is perfect. While not as bombastic as a Christina Aguilera, Moore has by far the best voice of the actress/singer duel threats. She never misses a note. While her band could overshadow her at times, the moments the music dropped away were some of the best of the night. Whether holding the audience captive with a smokey hush, or pushing upwards with a country-tinged cry, she always sounds good.
It was her mannerisms and banter that proved a bit more perplexing. Moore is so steadfast on playing the part of a regular musician; it can almost seem like she’s acting a role. I fear I’m being a bit too cynical, but her humbleness and overall nice persona is almost too much to swallow. When Moore asked the spotlight to be dimmed so she wasn’t so prominently lit, I’m sure it was simply because the lights were too bright. But it seemed like she didn’t want to be too front and center, to be the superstar.
Moore introduced a number of songs spouting the sorts of cliches we’ve heard a hundred times before. Prior to a generic song about the travails of dating she delivered the typical, “Men suck” comment that could have been directed at one time flame Zach Braff, though she assured us it wasn’t (which is good, cause no one knocks my boy from Scrubs). While I don’t want to suggest Moore hasn’t experienced the same kind of pain that countless other singer-songwriters have, she’s still Mandy freakin’ Moore. There were at least 3 non-homosexual men in the audience who would possible kill to be with someone of Moore’s caliber.
Her songwriting ability has definitely grown in leaps and bounds, but it was a telling fact that the best performances of the night came during cover songs. Most of Moore’s original work is quickly forgettable, not too bad, but certainly not too good. Generic sentiments like “She loves to watch the sunset/But she is partial to the rain” aren’t exactly exploring the depths of Moore’s psyche. Her songs blend together, providing lovely background noise, but rarely commanding attention.
Even Moore’s physical appearance fails to hold onto one’s attention. After you get over the mere presence of a movie star a few feet from where you’re standing, she’s not a dynamic singer. Karen O is imminently more entertaining, as Moore’s mannerisms extend to playing the tambourine or air guitar.
Moore ended her set by begrudgingly playing her first (and arguably biggest) hit, “Candy.” And while Moore may loathe everything about the song (she went on a mini-rant about how inane and meaningless the song is), her fans couldn’t have cared less. The song got the biggest reception of the night, and generated the most audience participation. So while Moore is making a go at credibility her pop star past might be more difficult to shake then she imagined.
The 411: I think I’m being too harsh on Mandy Moore. Her show was perfectly fine, a fun way to spend a Thursday evening. While I doubt she will ever be taken seriously as a “female singer/songwriter” she deserves credit for making music that matters to her. She might not be as powerful as a performer as Christina, as utterly bizarre as Britney, or as overtly sexual as Jessica, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Mandy Moore is releasing albums long after her contemporaries.
