Chatty Chantal
She puts on a great show ... if only she'd stifle the small talk!

CHANTAL KREVIAZUK
Winspear Centre, Edmonton
Tuesday, April 1, 2003

EDMONTON -- Chantal Kreviazuk is one of Canada's brightest musical talents. Her songs are beautifully written, lyrically powerful and her voice is just about perfect. Songs like Surrounded and Wait For Me kill me every single time. Plus, she's gorgeous.

If only she didn't talk so much.

Kreviazuk seems to be one of these people whose thoughts run right out of their mouths. Fair enough. That's who she is. But while there's nothing wrong with mixing mirth with melancholy, she's no Jann Arden. Before a sold-out crowd at the Winspear Centre last night, she crossed the line from delightfully loopy to obnoxious.

She put her foot in it early on. "You're pretty much, by Chantal standards, next to Calgary, the best city in Canada," she told the crowd, which took a moment to work it out. Never mind the municipal rivalry faux pas - she referred to herself in the third person. This is Garth Brooks territory. Not by my standards, she could've said, but by Chantal standards. OK, it's a small thing, but it betrays a self-absorbed celebrity ego at work. She looked awfully pleased with herself while she performed, too, I couldn't help but notice.

Move on, move on, I told myself. Ignore the patter. The aforementioned Surrounded followed and a captivating spell was cast. The fans were rapt. Musically, it was a terrific show. Eschewing the big band, Kreviazuk performed solo - grand piano and chandelier overhead (plus the illuminated Winspear ceiling looking like the descending mothership). It's ironic that her albums are filled with the latest in pop production with subsequent radio airplay that has brought in the big crowds, yet it's by herself that she shines the brightest.

The show last night had the perfect intimate mood. Morning Light, a light-hearted song from her new album, What If It All Means Something, likewise had the type of magic that puts Kreviazuk on the cusp of greatness.

Then she broke the spell - not for the first or last time -with a rambling tale about her American friends that contained a veiled shot at Alberta. Something about the war and Ralph Klein's hawkish ways, but "we won't go there because we are in Alberta," she waffled - and "Alberta is different ..." Get it straight, lady: Ralph Klein doesn't speak for all Albertans. You had 1,900 people hanging on your every word. If you're going to say something political, feel free, but be clear about it.

Then she followed that speech with wonderful treatment of Randy Newman's Feels Like Home done as if she'd written the song herself.

Then came Wait For Me. I was starting to develop a love-hate relationship here.

Throughout the night between her enchanting songs, Kreviazuk prattled on about all manner of things. (She at least is aware of this, saying at one point, "I think I have Tourette's Syndrome, swear to God.") She followed her opener with a story of how smart she was as a child, being able to appreciate the film Mommy Dearest at the age of seven. She polled the crowd for opinions on various issues, including on whether they'd heard the "Nicole Kidman" story. A few had. She told it anyway. Apparently, Kreviazuk got in trouble for slagging the actress in a magazine interview and so on and so forth and "to make a long story even longer - and it is long, so just chill," she went on. By this time, I was regretting not having brought earplugs.

Opening act Jason Mraz, on the other hand, expressed nothing but love for the headliner, saying, among other things, that he tunes his guitar in C - "for Chantal." Mraz, too, was brilliant, delivering a dreamy, blissed-out fusion of soul, roots and jazz with a powerful voice we'll surely be hearing a lot more of in the future. He talked quite a bit, too.

I will never again criticize Bob Dylan for not saying anything between songs.

By: Mike Ross