Chesney brings the house down

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 14/07/2011 (5533 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

The faces of the crowd, spotted by a roving camera and beamed on the big screens, told the story of the whole damn show.

They were damp and red-cheeked, split by toothy grins. For an instant, the eyes shone electric under the spotlights from the stage. And then the image disappeared under a sea of hands reaching out, reaching up, straining to catch the tip of a boot or the hem of a boot-cut jean.

And for the noise, there are almost no words: the noise was thunderous.

Let it be said that Kenny Chesney has many enviable assets. There’s his half-billion in tour revenues over the last decade, for instance, or his almost 20-year catalogue of heel-tapping pop-country pleasers. He has a clothing line, a pile of awards, and one pair of admirably toned arms.

But the Tennessee megastar’s very best asset, for his first explosive show in Winnipeg since the beginning of his career, is his fans.

Because when the clock struck 9 p.m. and the lights in the arena dipped to darkness, when his silhouette was flashed behind a giant curtain and the thumping opening beats of Live a Little boomed over the speakers, the sold-out crowd of 13,000 stamped and screamed and nearly brought the MTS Centre down.

So imagine the noise when that curtain fell and Chesney, clutching his tan cowboy hat and pumping a tanned fist, took to the microphone and started to sing. And imagine the frenzy only minutes later, when he put the guitar down and strode out onto the arms of the cross-shaped stage.

“Let’s take a chance and live this fantasy,” he crooned the lyrics to Reality, gripping his heart and periodically falling to his knees in front of fans’ outstretched hands. “’Cause everybody needs to break free from reality.”

That was the theme of the show, really. Back after a 2010 hiatus to record his 14th album, Hemingway’s Whiskey, Chesney’s Goin’ Coastal Tour is unapologetically escapist. The pre-main set music: Bob Marley. The images: tropical beaches and, ahem, tender oceanside kisses.

Let’s not forget the tour sponsor, Corona – a branding which made the giant crowd sing-along to Beer In Mexico that much more apropos.

Of course, with this crowd, bursting at the seams with virile young men and women, literally every tune was a full-on sing-along. “I go baaaaaaaack,” the fans boomed on the song of that name. Or, during Chesney’s 2002 hit No Shoes, No Shirt, “and noooooooo problems,” they’d cheer in thrilling unison.

Nor did they calm down when Chesney and the pocket-perfect seven-piece band did: when Chesney paused to offer what sounded like kind words about Winnipeg, the immediate and ecstatic cheers exploded up to the rafters and off the walls of the press box and drowned out the homage.

In fact, the only thing in the arena with more energy than the crowd and the band was the star himself. When strumming the guitar, he was a dynamo; when he set it down, he blazed sparks clear across the stage. As the concert drove to the two-hour mark, Chesney’s voice still rang firm and his fist still sliced the air, despite the sweat drenching the back of his worn-out Pittsburgh Pirates tee.

Indeed, in a packed house, Chesney had no problem emoting clear to the very back of the arena. “Tomorrow morning… I hope that when you wake up, you remember every single word of this song,” Chesney called out, before kicking into Out Last Night.

And from the surging crowd in the front rows to the John Labatt Lounge at the back, fans danced and cheered, bobbed and stood arm-in-arm. Toes tapped on the upper decks and the voices rang through every corner.

Something else flew from every corner, too.

Pushing through to the end of the first encore, Chesney brought up opener Uncle Kracker to offer up a party-hearty rendition of their duet, When The Sun Goes Down. They slapped hands like a tag-team and sauntered up to the very tip of the stage.

And that’s when a big black bra hit Kenny Chesney square in the head, nearly knocking off his hat.

Then there was another bra flying through the air, a bright pink one, and more — a whole pile, in fact, accumulating on the stage. Each one drew huge cheers, especially when Chesney — and later second opener Billy Currington, who joined Chesney for the riotous She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy — held them up for public approval.

She thinks something’s sexy, that’s for sure. Don’t think it’s your tractor though, Kenny.