The Opera House was gorgeous, the stage beautiful and sparse. Ray playing pretty well and sang with that undeniably full, smoky and soulful voice. The formula seemed perfect.
But there was a whole lot missing. His performance seemed rote, the few stories canned, and the anti-radio, anti-Europe sentiments expressed at the end just plain brat-ish. I had good seats on the main floor, but Ray did not reach me on any emotional level, though I was primed for it. His projected abject sincerity tipped of a seeming lack thereof - going through the motions of intensifying the voice, moving the body, and hushing his tones once in a while does not a generous performer make.
The acoustics at the opera house are amazing, but the sound system seemed sub-par for the range of Mr. Lamontagne's intensity, or perhaps it was a bad choice of mics as their was an unpleasant muffling, static coming from the speakers at every extra-loud moment. Yuck.
I am disappointed I spent so much for these tickets and that much of the crowd around me seemed to be swooning and cheering for an idea of an intense musician suffering heartache and spilling medicine-man guts (of years gone by) on the stage vs. genuine musicality and offering.
Bummer. I'll stick to the recorded versions of his songs that I like, but will skip having to encounter this pompous exhibitionist disguised as a gentle vagabond in the flesh from here on.