So there I was: 20 rows back along the left aisle of the classic Moore Theatre in Belltown. Poised. Ready to experience...Alanis. I was in a weird place. We (my wife - a big time Alanis-head - and I) had just witnessed a man named MC Souleye (rapper, reported tiger enthusiast, and - most importantly - husband to Alanis) bounce around the well-lit stage, and rap to full room of nineties alt-pop fans. People, namely myself, sat limply in their seat in some kind of tequila daze, making mundane small talk about the usher's mustache and the room's decor, occasionally cracking a joke about the opener's outmoded style and forced rap dancing until they finally gave in to boredom and and wandered down stairs to satisfy their growing agave deficiencies.
Contraband Alanis photo
|Woman throwing up "the W"|
With that said, as an "impartial" observer, there was a certain cheese factor to it all: she marched in basically the same V pattern across the stage and back all night, executed some pre-planned-looking retro hair-swings, looked like she was holding her guitar (many different, sparkly guitars, actually) just for show much of the time, and kind of did that Ricky Bobby thing with her hands when she wasn't holding the mic; but the crowd loved it. She played ALL the hits. "You Oughta Know" and "Ironic" were, of course in the mix. "Celebrity" - a new favorite - was thrown in for good measure. By the time she came back out for her second encore, people looked rather exhausted, and made a beeline for the door once she finished, but I didn't see too many disappointed faces on the way out (AND I WAS LOOKING).