I recently wrote in relation to Alicia Keys' concert, that it was a good sign people were shopping for scalpers two hours ahead of the show. The flip side is it's a bad sign when the encore performance is more interesting and entertaining than the previous 70 minutes. Of course, while one is a portent of good things to come, the other can only be seen in hindsight—after enduring what you'd hope to avoid.
Such was the case at Rob Thomas' Wednesday concert at the Joint. Touring in support of his solo debut effort, Something To Be, Thomas, the lead singer and songwriter from Matchbox Twenty, and his seven-piece backing group put forth a decent-enough effort, but aside from the large contingent of his fan club (yes, Thomas did a shout-out to them), most of the approximately 700 people in attendance clearly were there to hear Matchbox hits.
It didn't help matters that the public had scant time to previously hear any of Thomas' material, with Something To Be not hitting the streets until the day before. It also doesn't help that Thomas' solo style is all over the place, moving from acoustic folk-rock to bubblegum pop-star to attempts at middle-of-the-road R&B.
Thomas isn't the most physically dynamic performer at the best of times, and the energy fluctuated from dead to mildly tepid to warm and back to dead. One fan screamed and waved her arms in the air at the announcement of each new number, but within a minute muttered, "I don't know this one, either" and went back to text-messaging friends. About the only point where Thomas became engaging was with "Lonely No More," introducing it by saying, "Some songs are for your head, some songs are for your heart, this song is for your ass."
Just when the energy in the room couldn't get any lower, Thomas found a shovel in the form of Matchbox's "Dear Joan" and started digging. He prefaced this song by saying it had almost been forgotten by the group. It should have been. The advantage of being in a group as opposed to a solo artist is that your friends and band mates will often stop you from doing something stupid.
The stronger, more successful performances came during the encore, when Thomas re-emerged onto an empty stage with nothing but his guitar. He launched into a powerful, unplugged version of "Real World," followed by "Smooth" and "I Am an Illusion," with the full band back onstage by that point. A fitting song to close on, and until Thomas decides who he is, a fitting moniker.