The Jamie Foxx phenomenon is a curious one. On the one hand, he's a successful actor who has parlayed a creepy In Living Color drag-queen character into a major film career, while sustaining respect in the stand-up field and beyond. And he's as proficient a singer as he is an actor — certainly more so than Bruce Willis or Phillip Michael Thomas — but there was something limp and strange about his Tuesday night concert, no matter how many times he told us that we were “partying like it was Saturday.” (FYI: he told us that four separate times.)
The screens at the side and back of the venue showed that Foxx truly is a movie star: funny-looking but handsome, qualities that are only amplified on camera. Speaking of amplification, the sound for the show could have used some tweaking — a grimace-inducing guitar solo on an elevated stage was inaudible. On the other hand, a stab at holding a wireless electric guitar resulted in some pulverizing (likely canned) riffage to close out the climactic playing of his No. 1 hit "Blame It," a song that I love, even though I question its values — the line "shorty thought it was a dream, so I made her say, 'aah'" does not necessarily teach the best date etiquette.
Unfortunately, "Blame It" was the only real highlight of the night, even if moments beforehand he had brought out a cane-wielding Drake, who received a local-hero's welcome (though among the cheering there were several sarcastic shouts of “Degrassi!”). After praising Foxx, Drizzballz unenthusiastically rapped a verse over his vocals from “Best I Ever Had.” In spite of that, it's commendable that, pre-surgery, he still went out of his way to do a favour. And at least the appearance provided a break from Foxx’s own material, which seemed to blend into one syrupy soul song, lending a lent a torpor to the proceedings that seemed to take hold of the entire crowd.
However, Foxx’s between-song dialogue showcased his charm and humor, as he lightly mocked contestants in an onstage dance competition, or refused to throw his jacket into the crowd because of "the recession," or asked the crowd if they would kiss his “black ass motherfucking weed-smoking lips.” They were all-too-brief moments that lit up a show that was too muddled: part celebration of celebrity, part grown-and-sexy R&B affair, and altogether weird to get through. Most awkward was the moment when Foxx came out as Ray Charles, blindly walking onstage and then launching into a song revue worthy of a county fair. At two hours, Foxx did his best to give the crowd their $50 worth, but I’d take half of that with a lot more of a focus.