“You all look like you’re ready to get a little bit nasty,” Maxwell declares to an audience full of lust. Moans, yells, and shrieks is all he gets in reply. He’s essentially segueing into his beloved hit single, “Til the Cops Come Knocking” but the suggestive stage banter is hardly necessary: The women in the audience have been ready to get nasty for hours and staff at the Paramount might still be cleaning up certain puddles of drool. With an eight year lapse in between national touring dates, Brooklyn’s finest soul crooner’s triumphant return to the stage last night was more than worth the wait. I don’t know what seeing Maxwell perform 8-10 years ago was like while he was still in his mid 20s, but seeing him last night, not just as a soul singer, but also a band leader with impeccable command of the stage was far better than I could have expected. Without wasting time, he dove straight into past favorites like, “Lifetime” and “Ascension (Don’t Ever Wonder)” giving the audience exactly what they wanted from the jump.With a ten person band behind him (organs, keys, percussion, drums, bass, two guitars, and a three man horn section), the sound coming from the stage was pristine and right where it needed to be. He sounded much better with full accompaniment behind him and utilized all of it to set a vibe that teetered between sensual, erotic, and damn near pornographic. At one point, Maxwell stated: “This is the part of the concert where I talk to the fellas, to sort of set you up for what’s going to happen after the show.” It was a nice gesture, but to be honest, I don’t think there was a woman in the house that was thinking about the man they showed up with. They were all glued to Maxwell, sprung on Maxwell, cooing for Maxwell, as if the man had hypnotized half the audience with the sound of his voice. And actually, he did. But with a voice like that, it’s hard not to sit back and just say “damn.”By the time he worked himself into more familiar jams like “Sumthin’ Sumthin,'” “Get to Know Ya,” and “Fortunate,” the vibe in the room was at pure, bedroom-babymaking levels. At one point, he started crawling, or rather, making love to the floor and the only real surprise is that he wasn’t plastered with flying panties throughout the night. After an hour or so of walking us through his catalog, from Urban Hang Suite to Embrya to Now, Maxwell said good night and the house lights went dark. It always amazes me the amount of people who don’t know a concert isn’t over until the house lights go on full blast. Unfortunately, for the people who left early, they missed not one, but two encores. First of all: it’s been a long time since I saw a two encore show, and usually, it’s not even worth it. But even after saying goodbye for a second time, as far as I was concerned Maxwell needed to bring his back on stage. Everyone there probably had a favorite song they wanted to hear, and mine was the one he closed with: “Whenever Wherever Whatever.” Good God that’s a beautiful song and he sang it letter-perfect last night. As he sat there on the edge of the steps crooning in his own inimitable way, it was apparent that this concert was well worth the eight year wait.